MasukVictor.
Five years, and Bonnie’s room at home is still empty.
Some mornings, I woke up expecting to hear music blaring from her room. Then reality hit. She wasn’t here anymore.
The headaches never really left. Sometimes dizziness came with it, or moments where my mind went foggy and I forgot things I should remember. The strong meds helped, but they didn’t fix everything. I still felt responsible. If I had been stricter, if I had protected her better, maybe she would still be here.
I sat in my office staring out at the city. This building, this company — it was my father’s legacy. I had taken it and made it bigger than he ever dreamed. I had changed the world. But Dad wasn’t here to see it. Mom wasn’t. And the one that hurt most was Bonnie.
I rubbed my temple and tried to push the thoughts away. Today wasn’t the day for that. Today, I was going to propose to Jasmine.
I looked at the ring on my desk. It sparkled under the light. She lived in Amsterdam for her job as a senior investment banker. Brilliant, ambitious, the love of my life. I couldn’t wait to spend the rest of my life with her.
Tyler walked in without knocking, like always. He dropped into the chair across from me and grinned.
“Everything’s ready for the proposal. Private jet, violinist, the whole thing. Are you nervous?”
I picked up the ring and slipped it into my pocket. “No.”
Tyler laughed. “Bullshit. You look nervous, man. What time’s her flight?”
I checked my watch. “Thirty minutes. I should head to the airport.”
My phone buzzed. Jasmine. I smiled and opened it.
Baby, I’m sorry. I couldn’t board. A deal clicked at the last minute, and I couldn’t walk away. I’ll make it up to you.
My mood dropped. Tyler noticed right away. “What?”
“It’s Jasmine. She can’t make it.”
“I knew it.” He leaned back, shaking his head. “Why didn’t she tell you sooner? She knew you were waiting.”
I was already calling her.
She picked up on the first ring.
“Hey baby,” I said, keeping my voice calm. “How are you?”
“I’m okay. Just stressed. This deal is huge, Victor. It could change everything for my career.”
“We talked when you were at the airport. You knew I was waiting. How could you decide to stay without even telling me?”
“Why are you shouting?” she snapped. “You’re not my boss, Victor.”
I wasn’t shouting. I took a breath. “Baby, I just miss you. I want you to prioritize me for once instead of work.”
“Work matters too,” she said. “If you want to see me, book a flight and come here.”
I tried to stay calm while Tyler gave me side eyes and mouthed things I ignored. “The last time I came to Amsterdam, I barely saw you. I stayed two weeks, and we didn’t even…” I paused, glancing at Tyler. I wanted to say we hadn’t had sex. Hadn’t cuddled. Hadn’t talked properly. I felt like a stranger in my own relationship.
I swallowed. “Look, I miss you. I want a family. It’s been five years of dating, and you keep putting it off. I don’t want to wait anymore. I want a woman in my life, Jasmine. I want that woman to be you.”
Tyler mouthed, "Not gonna happen." I ignored him.
She went quiet.
Then she asked, “Have you been cheating on me?”
“What?” I said, surprised.
“Have you been faithful these past five years? I know how horny you get, and we haven’t had sex in two months because I’ve been so busy. You must be getting it somewhere. Who is she? Is it someone at your company?”
“Excuse me?”
“Answer me, Victor.”
Tyler watched me like a hawk. I hated defending myself in front of him.
“I’ve never cheated,” I said. “I’ve been faithful. Why would you even think that? Is this about you? Are you—”
“No,” she said quickly. “I’m not.”
I took a breath. “I want to see you. You have to let that deal go and come to Los Angeles.”
“Are you making me choose between you and my job?”
I’d had enough. I knew I wanted marriage. I had planned everything.
“It’s not an ultimatum,” I said. “But it’s time you prioritized me for once.”
“I’m done talking,” she said.
“Jasmine, If you hang up on me, that’s it. You no longer have me as a boyfriend. Understand?”
She hung up.
I stared at the dark screen. “She hung up on me. On the day I was going to propose.”
Tyler leaned forward. “Come on, man. Forget her. That girl doesn’t love you.”
I stood up and walked out. Tyler called after me, but I didn’t stop.
…
I didn’t know where I was going until I reached Bonnie’s grave.
In times like this, when my heart felt this broken, coming here had become comfort. I have done it so many times over the last five years.
I touched her name engraved on the stone.
“Bonnie, after five years…” I whispered. “Five years of me flying to Amsterdam, making time, trying to make it work, while she always had excuses. Work. Deals. Emergencies. It's finally over.”
The ring in my pocket felt heavy. I pulled it out and turned it over in my hand. I had planned a whole proposal today. I had pictured her face when I got down on one knee. Instead, she hung up on me.
"I guess it’s time to forget Jasmine. Or what do you think?"
I waited for an answer I knew wasn't gonna come.
Then, I slipped the ring back into my pocket. I didn’t know who this ring would go to now. Maybe no one.
Then I noticed the fresh flowers. I knew who put them there. Claire. Even after I told her to stay away. Why couldn’t she just leave me alone? I walked back to my car. I needed to see her. I needed to remind her to stay away.
...
I parked across the street from her little restaurant and sat there watching Claire through the window.
Why was I really here? To yell at her? To dump all my aggression on her like a punching bag? Yeah. That was probably it.
She had taken my baby sister away. Bonnie was sweet and innocent, and Claire ruined her. I hated her. The hate scared me sometimes. I wished I could wake up one morning and forget her. Forget how much I hated her. But I couldn’t.
I gripped the steering wheel, staring at the shop, rage boiling under my skin.
Then, three big men walked in. One grabbed her arm. She tried to pull away. He yanked her forward.
My first thought was, "This is her mess." He's probably one of her boyfriends. Let her deal with it.
I started the car but didn’t drive. What if something bad happened? Those guys looked dangerous. My conscience nagged at me. I hated that I still had one.
I killed the engine, got out, and crossed the street.
“Let her go,” I said as I pushed open the door.
Claire froze. Her eyes went wide, like she’d seen a ghost.
“Uncle Victor…” she whispered.
The man let go of her arm and turned.
“Who the hell are you?”
I pulled out my phone. “I’m calling the cops.”
I started dialling. He moved fast, grabbed a heavy metal plaque off the counter, and swung it at my head.
ClaireHe's too perceptive. He always has been. He knows something's wrong. He's going to ask questions, and I'm going to lie to him again, and I hate myself for it."Just tired," I said, forcing my voice into something more steady. "Didn't sleep well. I'll be out in a minute."Another pause. Then, softer: "Okay. Take your time."I heard his footsteps retreat, and I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.You can do this. You can pull yourself together. You can walk out there and pretend everything is fine. You can smile and kiss him and act like your world isn't crumbling around you. You can do this. You have to do this. Because if you fall apart now, you'll lose everything.You're going to lose everything anyway, the voice inside my head whispered. But at least this way you get to hold onto him a little longer.I took a deep breath, turned on the faucet, and washed my face again. The water was cold, bracing. I blotted my face dry with a towel, looked at my reflection on
ClaireI barely slept.The hours after my father's call stretched thin and sharp, each minute a blade pressed against my throat. Every time I closed my eyes I heard the name again—Jasmine—and saw the shape of a future that no longer included me. I lay on my side staring at the dark, replaying Victor's voice from earlier last night. The careful way he had said I was safe. The quiet promise that he would never push. The forehead kiss. The blanket pulled up to my shoulders. He had meant every word. I knew that. And that was what made it worse. He had given me tenderness without knowing the full truth of what we were. Without knowing that I've been lying to him.My father's voice echoed in my skull. Victor’s real girlfriend is coming back to Los Angeles. The words had burrowed into my chest like parasites, feeding on every moment of happiness I had stolen with Victor. Because that's what it was, wasn't it? Stolen.But Jasmine was his past. His almost-fiancée. The woman he had planned to s
VictorI closed the door.The click was too loud in the quiet hallway. I kept my hand on the knob a second longer than necessary, palm pressed flat against the cool metal, listening. Nothing. No voice calling me back. Just the thick, waiting silence of the house.I let my hand fall.Then I looked down at myself.Still hard. Ridiculously, stubbornly hard. The front of my trousers strained against the evidence of what had just happened a few minutes ago, as if my body had decided to stage a private rebellion. I stared at it like it belonged to someone else.“For God’s sake,” I muttered under my breath. “Enough.”My body did not listen.I turned away from the door. The hallway felt longer than it should have. I made it to the kitchen on pure willpower.The refrigerator light cut a hard white line across the dark floor when I pulled the door open. Cold air washed over my face. I grabbed a bottle of water, twisted the cap with more force than necessary, and drank until the chill stung my t
Claire“Then what are you afraid of?”I opened my mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. The truth sat like a stone on my tongue—I’m afraid of the day you remember, I’m afraid of how much I want this, I’m afraid that if we keep going you’ll realise I don’t know what I’m doing—but none of it would come out.Instead, my voice cracked on something smaller and far more dangerous.“I’m afraid that... I—" I stopped.I tried again. The words snagged somewhere between my chest and my throat.“I—just—” My voice cracked. I took a step back without meaning to. Heat rushed up my neck. “I can’t— I mean— it’s—”I stumbled back another step. Then another.“Claire—” Victor’s hand lifted, slow, like he was reaching for a frightened animal. The sight of it made something in me panic.I turned and almost tripped over my own feet. The hallway stretched too long. I pushed through the bedroom door. It shut harder than I meant it to. My back hit the wood. I stood there, chest heaving, palms flat again
ClaireThe words landed so deeply that something inside my chest cracked open. This version of him—the one who had lost his memories—loved me with a raw, uncomplicated certainty that made me feel more cherished than I had ever known how to ask for. And that was exactly what terrified me.Because, what would happen when those memories returned? When he discovered I had never truly been his girlfriend? That everything between us had begun as a mistake he didn’t even remember making?Fear rose sharp and sudden. Tears pricked my eyes before I could stop them, spilling over almost at once.Victor’s expression shifted instantly. His brows drew together, concern flooding his face as he cupped my cheek.“Claire… why are you crying?”A sob broke free before I could stop it. Then another. Tears spilt faster, and the words came out fractured between them.“I’m— I’m crying because—” my breath hitched sharply “—you’ve changed a lot.”Victor’s eyes softened with something unbearably tender. "Change
Claire The question hung between us, soft and completely serious. Why not you? Something fluttered hard in my chest. For a second, I couldn’t find an answer that didn’t feel too small. Victor’s thumb kept moving slowly across the inside of my wrist, warm and steady. His eyes never left mine. “You’re qualified,” he said quietly, “because you already understand the thing most kitchens never learn. You just told me a restaurant is a system of care—that food is the most immediate language we have for saying you care about someone. You spoke about making strangers feel seen. That isn’t technique, Claire. That’s vision. I’ve watched you at your restaurant — the way you stay calm when everything is moving too fast. The way you read what people need before they can name it, the quiet pride you take in sending them out lighter than they came in. Technique can be taught. That kind of heart, that kind of meaning… can’t. The Cavendish Imperial Dining has perfect plates. I believe what it does







