Haunted by what once was
1017 Words
Laura buried herself in work as if her sanity depended on it—because today, it truly did. With the engagement ceremony already buzzing with emotions she wished were not hers to feel, she forced herself to stay grounded, to stay professional, to stay invisible.
Her camera felt heavier than usual in her hands. Every flash, every click was like a heartbeat—steady, repetitive, helping her drown out the noise in her head. But no matter how hard she tried to focus on the job, she could feel Jonathan’s eyes like a knife at her back. She didn’t need to look to confirm it. She had known that gaze too well, for too long. The same cold, possessive stare she once convinced herself was “love.”
She inhaled sharply through her nose and kept adjusting her lens, determined not to give him the satisfaction of meeting his eyes. But eventually, she had no choice.
The moment had come—the symbolic highlight of the evening—the instant the groom-to-be slipped the ring onto his fiancée’s finger. The crowd leaned closer, some holding their breaths, others already raising their phones. Laura stepped forward, timing the shot perfectly.
But just as she lifted the camera, her gaze fell—unintentionally, unwillingly—on Jonathan.
And he was already staring at her.
Not a blank stare. Not a casual glance.
A piercing, cold, calculated look that froze her spine solid.
She clicked the shutter out of instinct, but her hand trembled. A wave of fear rolled through her body, sudden and violent, as if the mere sight of him forced her mind to relive every moment she had fought so hard to escape.
She swallowed, blinked rapidly, and refocused.
No. Not here. Not now.
She had survived him. She had rebuilt herself. She would not shatter again because of one look from a man who no longer had the right to touch even her shadow.
She steadied her camera, adjusted her angle, and took the shot again. The second click was sharper, stronger—steady. Like reclaiming a piece of herself back.
The crowd erupted into cheers, claps, and small happy screams. The couple held each other, beaming at the guests, but Laura didn’t allow her eyes to linger on them. She kept her movements brisk and professional, packing up her equipment with practiced efficiency. She wanted nothing more than to get out of that hall before her composure cracked in front of strangers—and in front of him.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the ceremony wound down. People gathered in small clusters, chatting, laughing, congratulating. Staff moved around clearing things up, and Laura slung her camera bag over her shoulder, ready to slip out unnoticed.
She had barely taken two steps when a warm, familiar voice called after her.
“Laura!”
She paused—and breathed a little easier.
Cole.
She turned to find him walking toward her, that gentle smile she had come to associate with safety resting comfortably on his lips.
“Hey,” she said softly.
“You didn’t forget our meeting afterwards, did you?” Cole asked, teasingly raising a brow.
Her eyes widened a bit. “Oh—oh my God, I’m so sorry. I completely forgot. Everything happened so fast today and—”
He laughed lightly and cut in, “It’s fine, Laura. I understand. You’ve clearly had a busy day.”
Busy was an understatement. Emotionally draining, mentally suffocating, and painfully triggering—that was more accurate. But she nodded instead, appreciating that Cole didn’t push.
“Let’s not worry about the meeting today,” he continued, “I won’t keep you for anything serious. At least let me drive you home.”
She hesitated. Not because she didn’t trust him, but because accepting kindness still felt strange. After everything she had been through, good people sometimes felt harder to believe than bad ones. But with Cole... she didn’t feel fear. She didn’t feel watched. She didn’t feel judged.
She felt seen.
“Okay,” she said quietly. “Thank you.”
Cole’s smile softened. “Good. Come on.”
They began walking toward the exit, side by side—slowly, comfortably. Laura let herself breathe for the first time today. Cole’s presence had a way of calming her nerves without trying too hard. He didn’t ask invasive questions. He didn’t push for explanations she wasn’t ready to give. He simply existed beside her, steady and patient.
But at the far end of the hall, within the shadows cast by dimming lights, Jonathan stood watching.
And he didn’t bother to hide it.
His fiancée was busy greeting another guest, unaware of the darkness pooling behind his expression. His jaw was locked, veins rising against his skin. His eyes—those same cold eyes—followed every step Laura took beside Cole.
Rage burned there.
Sharp.
Visible.
Possessive.
As though Laura had no right to speak to another man. As though she had no right to move on. As though she owed him something simply because he had once broken her.
Laura didn’t see him. She didn’t feel his stare anymore. For the first time in a very long time, she walked away without fear guiding her steps.
But Jonathan saw everything.
And the fury building inside him simmered quietly, dangerously—like a storm waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
And as Laura and Cole disappeared out the doors, Jonathan’s expression hardened into something dark.
Something unspoken.
Something far from harmless.
- Writer
