Chapter 2

Heart racing with beads of sweat dripping from her forehead, Solo stood outside Dominic’s apartment. The borrowed keys he had given her weighed heavy in her hand. This was how it always was. For the past three years, she had to borrow the spare keys to enter the apartment without him.

The thought sent bile chasing toward her lips. She swallowed the bitter taste as she remembered the kind of life she was letting go of. Dominic had never been physically abusive, but his words were cutting at times.

Three days ago, he ended their relationship. She sighed, steadying her breathing—she unlocked the door and stepped inside. The morning sun fought through the clouds, casting a pale light over the city, a sight to behold.

She paused, gazing at the effect through the large windows at the view she would never witness again.

She had spent three years in this apartment, but now it felt foreign, devoid of shape and familiarity. Her time here was over, and this place wasn’t her home anymore, not that it ever was.

She sighed, combing her fingers through her hair. “Get a grip, Solo…you knew this day would come.” She spoke aloud to the room, her voice echoing in the silence as she walked through the apartment.

Her eyes scanned every room. Memories flooded her mind with each step and object she saw and touched. Tears swelled in her eyes, but she fought them back. She wasn’t going to cry over something she never really had.

 The familiar scent of Dominic’s cologne lingered in the air. Breathing in deep, she reveled in its familiarity. It had been a smell she had once thought comforting. The faint scent wrapped around her as if dragging her into the past.

 She closed her eyes, letting herself remember the quiet moments they shared—sitting in silence after dining together, the evenings when he worked late into the night, his sharp voice cutting through the stillness with quick phone commands.

And the intimate nights when he’d come into her room to make love to her, on these occasions, he would let down his guard a little and give in to the pleasure they’d share. Her finger traced her lips as she remembered the pressure of his lips on hers.

 He had always been distant, even when she had tried to bridge the gap to reach him. His cold demeanor was a rebottle, rejecting any sibilance of warmth. Drawing a distinct line between them to ensure she knew her place.

 Solo dragged herself back to reality. Today, she wasn’t here for memories. She was here to erase herself. Even so, she still couldn’t stop the snippets flooding her mind.

 “I’m not asking for anything, Dominic,” she had said one night as they sat on opposite sides of the couch. She had been trying to reach him, to connect, but as usual, he was miles away.

 His gaze had remained fixed on the documents in his hands, not even sparing her a glance. “Good. There’s nothing to ask for.”

 The coldness of his words had stung, but she didn’t flinch. She had learned to mask her pain well.

 “I just thought—” she had begun, but he cut her off.

 “There’s nothing to think about, Solo. You know what this is.” He had looked at her then, his dark eyes indifferent. “We have an arrangement, a trade-off. That’s all.”

 She shook her head, dragging her thoughts to the present. Her hand trembled as it hovered over the jewelry box on the dresser. She opened it, staring at the contents—expensive meaningless trinkets, diamonds, emeralds, and rubies Dominic had given her over the years—pricey, cold tokens of what had never been love. She removed each piece and placed them into a bag.

 Little by little, she stripped the apartment of everything that bore her presence and touch—the clothes he had bought her, the decorations she had added to make the sterile space feel like a home. It had never been home, though, not for her. It had always been Dominic’s place, his world, where she had never belonged.

 By the time she was done, the apartment was as cold and minimalist as the day she had moved some of her things in. Every trace of her was gone.

 With the last of her things packed, Solo took a deep breath and walked out, leaving the key on the kitchen counter. She didn’t look back.

Before returning to her old apartment, she stopped by the orphanage, donated everything she had taken, and signed over the check for a million dollars.

 Dominic entered the apartment later that evening, his mind preoccupied with work. The day had been long, and he hadn’t thought about Solo since their previous conversation. She had taken the news well, making it easier for him to push it aside.

When he stepped inside, something felt off—it was different, sterile. The warmth he had never acknowledged before was gone. The scent of fresh flowers, which Solo had always insisted on, was absent. Everything seemed cold, hollow, and lifeless.

 Dominic furrowed his brow as he entered the living room. His gaze roamed the room, which was stripped bare and filled with empty shelves. He made his way to the bedroom, his heart racing, and opened the closet.

 Nothing.

 Her clothes were all gone.

 The jewelry box—empty.

 He checked the bathroom, the guest rooms, and the hallway closet. There was nothing left of her. Every piece of her life that had once occupied the space was gone. His frown deepened, and for the first time, a gnawing sense of unease settled in his chest.

 What did she do? Did she have a reset button? She hadn’t just taken her things but erased herself from his life.

 His jaw tightened as he reached for his phone. Scrolling through his contacts, he found her name. He tapped the call button and listened to the digital tone—one ring, two, three, and a click, followed by an automated message.

 ‘The number dialed is no longer in service.’

 He dragged the phone from his ear, glaring at the screen in disbelief. It was as if he had never seen such a device. His mind reeled from this unexpected turn of events, and he scratched his head.

No longer in service? Impossible.

He dialed again, but the result was the same—a cold, empty message.

 “Has she changed her number?” he asked aloud in confusion, pacing through what was now an empty apartment—only the original furnishings remained. “What the hell is she thinking?”

 Dominic felt a pang of emotion he’d never allowed himself to experience as an adult. He felt it now—panic. Sure, he had expected her to take a few things when he ended it. But this? This was different. This was...final.

 He walked into the kitchen and stared at the counter where she had left the key. The key sat there, cold and metallic, a reminder of how easily she had walked away.

 A memory flashed through his mind—Solo, sitting in the corner of the apartment, reading a book by the window. Her presence had been constant and steady, even if he had never acknowledged it.

 But now, she was gone.

Dominic stood in the middle of the empty apartment, the emptiness and silence pressing around him. It made him realize how much of himself he had kept hidden from her—and how much she had given, only to disappear without a trace.

Though he knew the outcome, he couldn’t resist redialing her number. It didn’t work.

‘The number dialed is no longer in service.’

The apartment felt like an empty shell, stripped of all warmth, leaving a cold, hollow ache that settled deep within him as he stood there.

 He had lost her.