Chapter 10

Roman's POV

The apartment was too quiet and I woke up late. Maddie was gone by then, thank fuck. Her perfume still lingered cheap and sugary, clinging to the couch like regret. I didn’t need a reminder of the night before. I didn’t want it. Not when all I could think about was her.

I don’t know what time Ariana came home last night, that was If she came home at all.

I kept telling myself I didn’t care, that it didn’t matter. That whatever she saw—whatever she thought she saw—wasn’t my fucking problem. But the longer the silence stretched, the more I started to notice every creak in the floorboards, every second ticking by without her footsteps, her humming, her presence.

Her room was still locked when I passed by.

I stood there like an idiot, fingers twitching against her doorknob, listening. Nothing.

A flash of her face when she saw me on the couch with Maddie punched through my skull like a knife. The shock in her eyes. The way she didn’t say a word—just turned around and left. No yelling. No questions. Just... gone.

And I hated that it got to me.

I rubbed my hands over my face and threw on a hoodie. I needed air. Something. Anything to get her out of my head.

I ended up outside, leaning against the railing of the balcony with a cigarette burning between my fingers, even though I barely smoke anymore. Below, the city buzzed like it always did. I stared down at it, trying to let the chaos drown out everything inside me.

But all I saw was her.

She used to follow me around everywhere when we were kids. Little feet slapping on pavement, ponytail bouncing, always asking a million questions. She'd cry if I ran too far ahead, so I always waited. Pretended I didn’t care, but I always waited.

One night, we sat on the roof of our old house. Just me and her, a blanket wrapped around both of us. She was scared of the dark, so I pointed out stars and made up constellations just to keep her calm.

"You’re never gonna leave, right?" she asked.

"Never," I said. Swore it.

And I did leave.

When my dad and mom we got sent to different schools, I disappeared. I didn’t even say goodbye. Figured it was easier that way. But still she left for a different country.

Now she’s back. And she doesn’t even know who I am.

She looked at me last night like I was some stranger who just ripped out her heart.

And maybe I did.

I told myself I didn’t want her remembering. That it was better she didn’t. But when I saw that flicker of recognition in her face just for a split second before she masked it all away...

Fuck.

I was happy, deep down, I was happy she remembered me. But fuck, I hate myself for that.

Ariana’s POV

I didn’t sleep. No, I couldn’t.

I spent the night walking in circles around the city, my phone dead, my legs sore, my chest aching with something I didn’t have a name for. I just kept walking, past strangers, traffic lights, fast food joints, glowing windows full of lives that weren’t mine.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw them. Her on his lap. His hands on her. Their mouths—

God.

I couldn’t breathe.

I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I didn’t know anyone. School hadn’t even started yet and I was supposed to be settling in, finding my rhythm, figuring out how to live under the same roof as the boy who used to be everything.

Instead, I was unraveling.

By the time I got back to the apartment, the sun was rising, painting everything a pale, golden lie. It looked peaceful. Like nothing had happened. Like my entire world hadn’t cracked in half.

The door was unlocked and I stepped inside and everything was... normal.

Too normal.

The couch looked undisturbed. No clothes. No lingering perfume. No lipstick stains. But I’d seen it. I’d felt it.

The image burned behind my eyes but I didn’t say a word. Didn’t make a sound.

I walked straight to my room, locked the door behind me, and leaned my back against it, pressing my palms to the wood like I could keep everything out. Him. Her. The way his head tilted back when she kissed him. The way he didn’t stop her.

My throat closed up as I slid down the door and sat on the floor, knees to my chest and for the first time in years, I cried.

Not just tears. Not just sniffles.

Real crying.

Ugly, choking sobs that ripped out of me in waves, that had my whole body shaking. My mind screaming why, why, why like a broken record that couldn’t just shut off.

Why did he let her?

Why didn’t he stop?

Why did it feel like he belonged to me when he never really did?

I thought... I thought maybe there was something between us. I thought those looks meant something. The way his voice changed when he said my name. The way his gaze dipped when I walked into the room like he was trying not to stare.

I thought he saw me.

Maybe I was just stupid.

Just some stupid girl with a crush on the boy who used to hold her hand when she was scared of the dark.

A boy who grew up and let another girl ride him like a toy.

Right in front of me.

I don’t know how long I stayed like that. Minutes. Hours but eventually, I crawled into bed fully clothed, my limbs heavy, my heart worse.

But just as I pulled the covers over my head, I heard it—

Knock. Knock.

My breath caught, once Then again.

"Rie," he called through the door. His voice was low and cautious. "Are you awake?"

I closed my eyes. I wanted to ignore him and I wanted to scream. I wanted to throw open the door and slap him. Or kiss him. Or both.

But I stayed still.

"Ariana..." He paused. His voice cracked just slightly. "Can we talk?"

No.

We couldn’t.

Because talking would mean I’d have to admit that he mattered. That he’d gotten under my skin. That I wasn’t just hurt, I was jealous.

He knocked again. Three soft thuds. "I didn’t know you were home last night. I swear. If I had"

"Just stop," I said, my voice hoarse and muffled under the blanket. "Please, just go away."

Silence.

Then, after a moment, I heard his footsteps retreat. And I hated myself for wanting him to turn back.