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After the Fire
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2025-06-29 06:15:54
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Surrendered Desires The Voicemail
Ariana’s POVThe courtroom delay was announced that morning. Again. Another postponement. Another vague email from the court clerk. Another day of silence disguised as procedure. Daniel’s legal team called it “an unfortunate scheduling issue.”I called it cowardice. But I didn’t rage. Didn’t pace. Didn’t scream. I just made tea. Sat on the windowsill. And stared out at a city that felt quieter than usual — as if the sky itself was holding its breath. My phone buzzed. Unknown number. I almost ignored it… until the voicemail notification appeared. One new message. I pressed play. And then I froze.“Hi. It’s me.”“I don’t know if this will help or hurt. But I didn’t want to go another night without trying.” “That night at the gala — I saw something in your eyes I hadn’t seen in years.” “Not pain. Not regret. Not even anger.” “…I saw the woman you were before the world broke you.” “And I need you to know, even if you never speak to me again — I still believe that woman deserves everyt
Surrendered Desires The Door I Closed
Ariana’s POVThe first thing I noticed when I walked into Daniel’s office was how cold it was. Not the air conditioning. Not the walls. Just… him. He stood when I entered, surprised. I hadn’t called ahead. Hadn’t texted. I wanted this moment unscripted — like the truth always should’ve been.His expression shifted fast — from professional concern to something softer, something rehearsed.“Ariana. This is unexpected.”I didn’t sit. I didn’t even take off my coat.“I don’t have long,” I said. “And I won’t stay if you try to make this about sympathy or control.”He raised an eyebrow. “Control?”I ignored the bait.“You remember the night I lost the baby?”The question hit like a slap. He didn’t flinch — Daniel never flinched — but his eyes twitched. Slightly.“Of course,” he said. “I haven’t forgotten.”“You never held me that night,” I said softly. “You came home. Took off your coat. Asked if I’d eaten.”“Ariana—”“I’m not here to argue,” I cut in. “I’m here to say this out loud. To sto
Surrendered Desires The Things I Never Said
Ariana’s POVSome memories don’t fade. They wait. Like shadows in rooms you forgot to lock. Like perfume trapped in old scarves you haven’t worn since everything changed.And tonight, after seeing Luca again — after standing in a room that silently held the weight of everything unsaid — one of those memories returned. Uninvited. Unforgiving.It was the night after my miscarriage. The house was too quiet. Daniel had just come home from work. No flowers. No embrace. Just the sound of his keys dropping on the counter like everything was normal.I sat on the couch. Blanket around me. Skin pale. Eyes dry from crying too much. And he walked in like a surgeon entering an operating room — clinical. Efficient. Cold.“Have you eaten?”That was the first thing he said. Not “How are you?”Not “I’m sorry.”Just “Have you eaten?”I remember looking at him and realizing something that hurt more than the bleeding, more than the loss, more than the painkillers and the sterile white sheets.I realized
Surrendered Desires The Room That Watched Us
Ariana’s POVThe invitation arrived on cream cardstock. Embossed letters.Gold lining. The kind of elegance that tried to impress before it spoke.It was the rebranding gala for Maison Faye — one of our competitors in the luxury design world. The kind of event that everyone important would attend. And I almost didn’t go. Not because of Luca. But because I was tired.Of performing. Of watching my every breath. Of being the woman everyone thought had it all together. But Evelyn convinced me.“This is your arena, Ari. You built your name without shortcuts. Don’t hide from it just because someone from your past might show up.”She was right. I didn’t owe the world my absence. Especially not now — when I was finally learning how to arrive for myself.I wore black. Not for mourning. But for power. A velvet evening dress that hugged my curves without apology, back dipped just low enough to remind them I wasn’t anyone’s afterthought. My heels were sharper than some men’s egos. And my lipstick
Surrendered Desires The Door I Never Knocked On
Luca’s POV — Flashback Continues I didn’t sleep that night. Not out of nerves. But because the city felt too loud — like every rooftop remembered me. Like every shadow had memorized her footsteps. I wandered streets that used to belong to us.Sidewalks where we’d once argued about art and politics and what kind of wine was appropriate for breakfast. Corners where we kissed like we were trying to rewrite history with our mouths. It was both beautiful and unbearable. Because the past doesn’t always ache in sharpness.Sometimes, it aches in softness. And that softness kills you slowly. I planned to write her a letter. Something honest. Simple. Something that didn’t ask for anything — not forgiveness, not understanding — just truth. But by the third line, I tore the page out and tossed it. Because nothing written felt worthy. Not of her. Not of what we once had. So I did the unthinkable.I walked to her office building. Not with a dramatic speech. Not with flowers or a ring or a desperate
Surrendered Desires The City That Still Held Her
Luca’s POV – Flashback ContinuesThe city hadn’t changed much. Same skyline. Same blurred lights. Same cool wind that smelled like pavement and memory. But I had changed. And that terrified me more than anything else. Because what if the version of me she remembered — the wild, reckless, burning man — was the only one she ever truly loved?And what if the man I’d become — quieter, heavier with grief, slower to trust himself — was a stranger to her now? Still, I came. I took a cab from the airport and didn’t tell a soul. No calls. No updates. No distractions. I just stared out the window, counting every familiar street sign like it owed me an apology for still existing without her.I had no plan. No speech. Only a name I hadn't said out loud in years.“Ariana.” It tasted like ash and hope.The first place I went wasn't her apartment. It was the bookstore where we used to meet on rainy Sundays. There was a little café inside — mismatched chairs, too many teacups, a smell of old paper an
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