2
1110 Words
Nia’s pov
I bent slightly, picking up the edge of Ashera’s gown, letting the silky fabric slip through my fingers as I helped her straighten it. The weight of the dress in my hands felt almost symbolic, delicate, fragile, yet carrying a quiet strength. “You ready?” I asked softly, my voice barely more than a whisper, though my heart was hammering as if I were the one walking down the aisle.
She turned toward me, her eyes shimmering with excitement and nerves. “I think so,” she said, giving a small, reassuring nod.
As she stepped toward the door, I caught my own reflection in the mirror, a pale, tense version of myself. Bare shoulders, tired eyes, a smile that didn’t quite reach the corners of my mouth. I told myself I was here for her, that my past, my feelings, my foolish heart had no business intruding on this day. But the truth clawed at me anyway.
Then I froze.
I heard it first, his voice, calm, measured, but with an edge of authority that made my chest tighten. That voice… I knew it all too well. My stomach flipped as a flush of fear and longing collided. I had told him I didn’t want anything serious. I had walked away. And now, here he was.
I looked up slowly. Rowan. Standing in the hall, his broad shoulders squared as he spoke to one of the guards, his expression taut with something, annoyance, concern, I couldn’t tell. His presence was undeniable, commanding the space in a way that made it impossible to look away. And yet, even with the hint of anger in his jaw, there was no erasing the sheer, magnetic way he looked.
Black suit, crisp and tailored to perfection, the kind of suit that could make anyone’s heart stutter. His hair perfectly in place, his sharp cheekbones catching the light, and those eyes, dark, intense, and unreadable, trained on the guard. My breath caught, my pulse racing, and I realized I’d been holding it all along.
And then, deliberately, he turned.
Our eyes met.
Everything around me, the chatter, the footsteps, the soft hum of the mansion seemed to vanish. There was only him and me. My heart lurched violently in my chest, threatening to betray me entirely. The familiar pull, the quiet ache, the impossible longing I’d tried to bury, all of it came rushing back like a tide I couldn’t hold at bay.
I felt the old, electric tug in my stomach, the same one that had made my knees weak the last time he’d touched me. My fingers tingled, my throat dry, and for a terrifying second, I imagined what it would feel like to let myself fall back into that world we’d shared, soft kisses, heated touches, the way his hands knew me like no one else could.
I blinked, trying to force my gaze to shift, but his eyes held mine for a heartbeat too long. Every instinct in me screamed to look away, to retreat, but I couldn’t. My chest felt tight, my pulse a frantic drum inside my ears, and I was acutely aware of how small and exposed I felt under the weight of his stare.
And then, just as quickly as that frozen moment held me, he broke it.
Rowan’s eyes flicked away, sharp and precise, back to the guard he had been speaking with. His jaw clenched slightly, the faint crease between his brows softening only as he leaned in, continuing his conversation. Whatever tension had tightened his posture seemed to settle into professional composure. The air between us didn’t vanish entirely, it hummed with the unspoken, but he was no longer looking at me.
I exhaled sharply, almost in disbelief. He looked away. He didn’t acknowledge me. Not a flicker, not a nod, nothing. My chest felt tight, a strange mixture of relief, hurt, and… anger. What right did I have to feel any of it? I’d walked away. I’d made my choice. And yet, here I was, my heart lurching anyway. How dare he act like I didn’t exist, like I didn’t matter at all?
Before I could dwell further, a soft but deliberate sound of heels clicking against the polished floors caught my attention. A woman appeared, dressed in a gown that left little to the imagination, the kind that would make any head turn. Her smile was playful, teasing even, as she approached Rowan with an ease that made my stomach twist.
Rowan’s guarded stance softened immediately. She reached up, brushing her lips against his cheek in a quick, almost flirtatious kiss, and I felt my jaw tighten. Her hand found his, and for the briefest moment, I felt my chest hollow. A slow, intimate smile spread across his face as she whispered something in his ear, words I couldn’t hear but that clearly delighted him.
I clenched my fists at my sides, letting my nails dig lightly into my palms. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t about fairness, I reminded myself...it was about survival, about keeping my own heart intact. And yet, seeing him like that, so calm, so untouchable, so… infuriatingly handsome, made my chest ache all over again. Black suit, perfectly tailored, broad shoulders, that infuriatingly commanding aura… and here I was, just standing frozen, unable to do anything but watch.
Rowan gave a small nod to the guard, dismissing him, and then, hand in hand with the woman, he walked down the hallway, their pace relaxed and intimate. My heart thudded painfully in my chest, a mix of longing and stubborn irritation.
Ashera, who had been adjusting the folds of her gown beside me, caught my gaze following him. Her eyebrows lifted slightly, a knowing look forming as her mouth opened to speak.
“I…I really don’t wanna hear it, Ash,” I said quickly, sharper than I intended, my voice trembling slightly with the weight of all the emotions I was trying to suppress. “Today is about you. Rowan can do whatever the hell he wants. Like I said back then, it’s not serious, and I haven’t changed my mind about that.”
Her eyes softened with understanding, and she gave me a small, almost imperceptible nod.
I exhaled, forcing my hands to relax on the edge of her gown, but even as I forced my attention back to Ashera, a stubborn part of me couldn’t shake the image of Rowan walking away, his smile so effortlessly hers. And the more I tried to push it down, the hotter that little ache in my chest burned.
And I hated myself a little for it.
- Writer
