Scars of Time

Jo's POV Enveloped in his warm embrace, I let myself melt into Alex's arms, closing my eyes as the steady beat of his heart synced with mine. His scent; cedar and something softer I could never name; filled my lungs, and I breathed him in like I was storing him for winter. This is happiness, I thought. This is what it feels like to be whole. I memorized the rise and fall of his chest. The way his fingers traced slow circles on my back. The quiet hum that vibrated through him when he was content. Alex wasn't just my boyfriend. He was home. The most precious thing in my life, and I couldn't imagine a world without him. But time has a cruel way of interrupting perfect moments. I had to leave. I pulled away reluctantly, my hands lingering on his chest a moment longer than necessary. “I love you,” he whispered. I turned, and his eyes were fixed on mine, those eyes that made the room shrink, the world fade away. That smile. The one that could stop my heart in its tracks. Say it back, my heart screamed. I love you too. But the words hovered just behind my lips, trapped by something I couldn't name. I swallowed hard. My throat burned. I lingered for a moment longer, memorizing every detail of his face, the way his brow softened when he looked at me, the flecks of gold in his brown eyes that only appeared in certain light. Neither of us spoke again before I slipped out the door. On my way to work, Maya’s voice snapped me out of my reverie. “You look positively glowing today, Jo!” she teased, her eyes twinkling as she met me with a playful grin. I forced a smile. “How can you not be happy on a day like this? Look at that sunshine!” The words felt hollow, even as I said them. Like I was trying to convince myself that everything was as bright as it seemed. Maya rolled her eyes, dramatically sighing. “Why is it that this sun refuses to shine for me though?” She paused for a second before confessing, “Ugh, I just want a boyfriend, is that too much to ask?” I laughed. “Well, if you’d just given Patrick a chance, you wouldn’t be standing here complaining!” “Patrick? From accounting? Get real, Jo.” “Yes, Patrick! You friend-zone him so hard, it’s practically a restraining order.” “There’s no way he actually likes me.” “Sure, keep telling yourself that." I nudged her shoulder. "You keep breaking hearts and you'll end up single forever." She sighed dramatically. "Why is it so hard to find someone both good-looking and decent? Honestly, I just want someone like your boyfriend. Is that so much to ask?" The words hit me somewhere soft. Someone like your boyfriend. I shot her a playful glare, grateful for the distraction. "If you so much as flirt with him, I'll give you a brand-new haircut. You've been warned." She giggled. "Who can resist his charm? It's not my fault he's insanely hot." "Don't test me, Maya." But before I could scold her further, her eyes darted over my shoulder. Her mouth fell open. "Oh my god," she whispered, her voice filled with awe. "Forget Alex. Look at that guy." I turned, already dismissing her; Maya always exaggerated;and then I saw him. He was standing near the entrance, scanning the lobby with the bored, distracted air of someone who'd done this a thousand times. He was handsome, yes. Sharp jaw. Dark hair swept back. A suit that probably cost more than my monthly rent. The kind of man who belonged in glossy magazines or on the arm of someone equally polished. Maya was already elbowing me, breathless. "Jo. Jo. Tell me you see him." "I see him," I said, still watching He hadn't noticed us yet. His gaze was drifting, unfocused, like he was waiting for something tedious to end. And then his eyes found mine. By accident. I saw it happen. The way his gaze swept across the lobby, not looking for anything in particular, and then landed on me like an afterthought. But then something changed. His step faltered. Just slightly. Almost imperceptibly. He was going to keep walking, I realized. He was going to walk right past. But now... Now his eyes were on me. And they stayed. The distraction vanished from his face, replaced by something I couldn't read. His gaze locked onto mine with sudden, sharp focus, like I'd just become the only thing in the room worth seeing. My heart hitched. His eyes were cold. Flat. Unreadable. The kind of cold that had nothing to do with anger and everything to do with stillness. No warmth. No curiosity. No interest. Just... presence. The lobby, the elevators, the people passing by, it all faded. He didn't blink. Didn't look away. Didn't acknowledge the reception desk or the company logo or any of the things that should have told him where to go. Why is he still looking at me? I didn't know. I couldn't explain it. But I felt something cold crawl up my spine, a prickle of awareness that made my skin tighten. And then, slowly, the corner of his mouth lifted. Not a smile. Something sharper. Acknowledgment. Like he'd found what he was looking for. He was never going to stop at reception, but his eyes found me by accident. And now... Now he was walking toward me. I forced myself to breathe. His voice cut through the air, smooth and unhurried. "Are you deaf," he asked, one brow raised, "or is ignoring people just part of your charm?" I blinked, realizing with horror that he'd been speaking to me the whole time. I hadn't heard a word he'd said. My face flushed, but I steadied myself. "I'm so sorry," I said, keeping my voice professional. "I didn't realize you were speaking to me. How can I help you?" He let out a soft, exaggerated sigh, like I was already exhausting him. "I've said it three times. I'm here to meet Mr. Gonzalez." "One moment. I'll confirm that for you." I reached for the phone.... But his hand slid in fast, fingers brushing mine as he took it from me. Too close. Too casual. The brief touch sent something cold down my spine. "No need," he said, his voice dropping, conspiratorial. Like this was now our secret. But I didn't look at his hand. I looked at his eyes. And in that moment, I saw it again. That terrible stillness. That knowing. Like he was waiting for me to recognize him too. Do I know you? I wanted to ask. Have we met before? But I knew we hadn't. I would have remembered those eyes. Those empty, terrifying eyes that saw too much. I pulled the phone back gently but firmly, meeting his gaze without flinching. My hands were steady, even though my heart was racing. "Actually, I do need to confirm with his assistant, sir." My smile was pleasant but immovable. "It's company policy. I'm sure you understand." He didn't argue. But the corner of his mouth twitched. "Astor," he said, his eyes tracking me closely as I dialed. When the assistant confirmed the meeting, I relayed the information with calm professionalism. "Mr. Gonzalez's office is on the fifteenth floor. Take the elevator to your right, and someone will meet you there." He didn't move. Instead, he studied me. A long, deliberate pause. His eyes traveled over my face, unhurried, like he was cataloging every detail. "You know," he said slowly, "most people are either terrified of me or desperate to impress me." I blinked, caught off guard by the honesty of it. "Should I be either?" I asked quietly. "I don't know." His head tilted slightly. "Should you?" I held his gaze. "I'm just doing my job, sir." A beat of silence. Then, something shifted in his expression. Not warmth. Not coldness. Something unreadable. Something that made my skin prickle again. "Shame," he said, his voice smooth as glass. "I was starting to enjoy being handled." The words landed like a stone in still water. Handled. Like I'd done something more than just follow protocol. Like my quiet refusal to be rattled had been a performance he appreciated. Like he was already planning our next encounter. He didn't thank me. Instead, he gave a barely-there smile...one that didn't even pretend to be sincere...and turned without a word. Except I felt his gaze. Even after he turned, even as he walked away, I felt those eyes on me. That empty, knowing stillness. Like he was filing me away for later. Like he knew me. My hands were shaking. I pressed them against my desk, trying to steady myself. "Unbelievable," I muttered under my breath. "Unbelievably hot, you mean," Maya added with a smirk. I shot her a withering look. “If you even think about settling for someone like that, I will personally kill you.” She laughed. “As if he’d notice us, Jo. Guys like that don’t see people like us...they see right through us.” Her words landed like a stone in my stomach. He did, I thought. He saw right through me. “You’re ridiculous.” “And you’re blind. He’s literally the hottest guy we’ve ever seen, and you’re acting like he’s nothing.” “I've got Alex." I said it firmly. Too firmly. "And trust me, this guy? Nothing compared to him." Maya shook her head, sighing dramatically. “Fine, fine. No one’s ever good enough for you now that you’ve got a perfect boyfriend.” Maya shook her head, sighing dramatically. "Fine, fine. No one's ever good enough for you now that you've got a perfect boyfriend." I glanced back toward where the man had disappeared. Astor. "Good looks aren't everything, Maya." My voice came out quieter than I intended. "Trust me, that guy's nothing special." ............... ALEX'S POV I was bursting with anticipation to see Jo, so I quickly sent her a message. It was a strange kind of happiness, the kind that fills every corner of your heart. She was everything. My everything. The missing piece that had healed old scars I didn't even know I had. With Jo, life made sense. Sometimes, I wondered if we were together because we had no one else, or if the universe had brought us to each other. It didn't matter. She was mine, and that was enough. I stood outside her workplace, grinning like an i***t, waiting for her to finish. We had a date tonight, and I was bursting with excitement. But underneath all that joy, there was a flicker of fear. Fear that something this perfect couldn't last. That one day, it could all disappear, leaving me right back where I started. Alone. I took a deep breath, trying to shake off the unease. People streamed out of the building, their faces a mix of exhaustion and relief. I watched the crowd, counting the minutes until Jo would walk through those doors; her usual lateness was no surprise to me. Then, something strange caught my eye. A crowd had gathered, people pointing and murmuring. My curiosity got the better of me, and I edged closer to see what was going on. That's when I saw her; a girl standing on the edge of the roof, teetering dangerously close to a fatal drop. My heart clenched. Below, a young man, probably her boyfriend, was calling out to her, his voice desperate, pleading for her to step back. The love and fear in his voice echoed in my chest, and I knew that feeling. I'd been there. That overwhelming darkness, the temptation to let go, to make it all stop. I remembered it like it was yesterday. The cold air on my face. The distant sounds of the city below, muffled and meaningless. The way the ground had seemed so far away, and yet so inviting. The numbness that had settled into my bones, convincing me that nothing mattered, that no one would care, that the world would keep spinning without me. I was standing on that edge once, I thought. I was ready to let go. I had already let go inside. My body was just catching up. And then something had pulled me back. A memory. A voice. A flicker of hope I hadn't known was still there. She doesn't have that yet. She hasn't found her reason to stay. The girl on the roof swayed slightly, and the crowd below gasped. Her boyfriend's voice cracked, broken and raw, pleading with her to step back. I could hear the panic in it, the same panic I'd heard in my own voice once, in a different life, when I was the one begging someone to stay. He's going to watch her fall. The thought hit me like a physical blow. I knew that feeling too. The helplessness. The horror of watching someone you love slip away and being powerless to stop it. The way your soul tears in two, half of you wanting to scream, half of you wanting to follow them into the dark just so you don't have to feel the pain of being left behind. She doesn't know, I realized. She doesn't know that there's a way back. She thinks the darkness is all there is. I can't just stand here. My legs were moving before my brain caught up. I pushed through the crowd, ignoring the confused looks, the hands that reached out to stop me. The building's entrance was to my left, and I was running before I even made it through the doors. Stairs. I took them two at a time, my lungs burning, my heart pounding against my ribs. Five floors. Six. Seven. My thighs screamed, but I didn't stop. I couldn't stop. Every second felt like an eternity, and I knew, I knew, that if I was too late, I'd never forgive myself. I know what she's feeling. I've been there. I've stood on that edge. I've looked into that void and thought it was the only answer. She needs to know she's not alone. She needs to know someone sees her. Someone understands. I burst through the roof door, gasping, and there she was. So close to the edge. Her back was to me, her shoulders shaking, her hair whipping in the wind. One wrong step and she'd be gone. I forced myself to breathe. To stay calm. If I panicked, I'd lose her. I knew that from experience. When you're in that place, any sudden move, any sign of fear, it pushes you further toward the edge. You're already convinced no one understands. You need someone to prove you wrong. "Hey," I said, keeping my voice as steady as I could manage. "Let's talk for a minute before you make any decisions." She didn't even turn around. "Who are you?" Her voice was cold, detached. "Just a stranger." I took a slow, careful step forward. "But I know what you're going through. I've been there." She scoffed. "Leave me alone." "I can't." Another step. "Not while you're up here. Listen, I know it feels like there's no way out, but there is. This... this isn't the answer." She shook her head, her voice cracking. "You don't know anything about me." "I don't." Another step. Closer now. "But I know what it's like to be in pain. Real pain. The kind that makes you forget there was ever anything else. The kind that convinces you nothing will ever get better." She was quiet. Her shoulders trembled. "I know what it's like to stand where you're standing," I continued, my voice soft. "To look down and feel nothing but relief at the thought of it ending. To believe that no one would miss you, that the world would keep spinning, that you're just... tired. So tired you can't remember what it felt like to not be tired." Her breath hitched. "I know that feeling. I've lived it. I've been so close to the edge that I could feel the wind pulling me forward. And I know that right now, you think there's no way back. But there is. I'm proof of that. I'm standing here because someone didn't let go of me. And I'm not going to let go of you." She wavered, her legs trembling. She was so close to the edge now that it made my stomach lurch. One gust of wind. One moment of dizziness. That's all it would take. Please, I begged silently. Please don't let her fall. "Please," I said softly, extending my hand. "Take my hand. I can help you." "Help me?" She finally turned her head slightly, just enough to look at me. "Can you take the pain away?" I swallowed hard. The question hung between us, heavy and raw. She was asking me for something impossible. Something no one could promise. But I couldn't lie to her. Not now. Not when she was standing on the edge of everything. "I can't take it away," I said honestly. "I wish I could. I wish I could reach inside you and pull out every ounce of hurt you're carrying. I can't do that." Her face crumpled, and I saw hope die in her eyes. No. Don't let her go. Don't let her slip away. "But I can stay," I said, my voice breaking. "I can stay right here, and I can hold on to you, and I will not let you fall. I promise you that. I'm not going anywhere. I swear to you, I'm not going anywhere. Just take my hand. Please. Just take my hand." For a moment, I thought I'd lost her. Her gaze drifted back to the edge, and my heart stopped. The wind pulled at her hair, at her clothes, and I could see her considering it. I could see her weighing my words against the void. Please, I begged. Please choose life. Choose anything but this. And then, slowly, she reached out her hand. Relief surged through me, so powerful it almost brought me to my knees. I lunged forward, my fingers stretching toward hers... But her foot slipped. She lost her balance, and for one terrifying second, she was falling. Her eyes went wide with shock, her mouth opening in a silent scream. "No!" I grabbed her hand just in time, my fingers locking around her wrist. Her full weight yanked me forward, and I felt myself being dragged toward the edge. My feet slid on the concrete, my heart slamming against my ribs. "Don't let go!" she cried, her voice a mixture of fear and desperation. "I won't." My muscles screamed, my arm burning with the strain. "I promised. I'm not letting go. I'm not letting you fall!" Her hands were slick with sweat, slipping through my grip. I could feel her sliding, centimeter by centimeter, and panic clawed at my throat. No, no, no. Not like this. Please, God, not like this. I promised her. I promised I wouldn't let go. I can't break that promise. I locked my jaw, dug my heels into the concrete, and held on with everything I had. Every ounce of strength. Every shred of determination. I wasn't going to let her fall. Just when I thought my arms would give out, another hand appeared. Her boyfriend had made it to the roof. Together, we pulled her to safety, collapsing onto the concrete, exhausted but alive. The girl, Hope, as her boyfriend called her, sobbed uncontrollably. He wrapped his arms around her, whispering reassurances, and I couldn't help but feel a wave of relief wash over me. She was safe. I sat there for a moment, my chest heaving, my hands shaking. Adrenaline still coursed through my veins, making my fingers tremble, my heart pound. She's alive. She's okay. I kept my promise. I didn't let go. I stood on unsteady legs, ready to slip away, to give them their privacy. "Wait!" The boyfriend's voice stopped me. I turned to see him looking at me, his eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you." I nodded, feeling a strange lump in my throat. "Take care of her." But as I walked away, I felt a soft hand on my arm. Her voice was barely a whisper, fragile from crying. "You saved my life," she said, her eyes wide with emotion. Even with her makeup streaked, her beauty was undeniable. I smiled faintly. "No, you saved yourself. I just helped." But as I said it, I saw something flicker in her eyes. Something that made my stomach twist. She was looking at me like I was her only anchor. Like my promise had become her reason to breathe. I hadn't meant it as a vow. I'd meant it as comfort. As hope. But she had taken it as a promise. And I had a sinking feeling that she would hold me to it.