A Love Left Behind

Damian had learned a long time ago that success could buy almost anything. Time. Silence. Security. Even distance. What it couldn't buy was peace. He stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows of his office, looking down at the city beneath him. Frankfurt glittered in the darkness, thousands of lights stretching across the horizon like a constellation someone had scattered carelessly across the earth. Behind him, the office was quiet. Too quiet. His laptop was still open on the desk. Three contracts waited for his signature. His assistant had sent him another message fifteen minutes ago, reminding him about tomorrow's meetings. He had ignored it. For once, there was nothing urgent. No board meeting. No investor waiting for an answer. No crisis that needed his attention. And somehow, that was worse. Damian loosened his tie and leaned one hand against the glass. Thirty-eight. Successful. Independent. A CEO whose name had become familiar in business circles long before he had expected it to. People often told him he had built an impressive life. They were right. He had. He had built it carefully, brick by brick, decision by decision. There had been no shortcuts. No inheritance waiting to rescue him. No father handing him a company and telling him to take over. Whatever Damian had today, he had earned. And yet, sometimes, standing alone in an office that was bigger than the apartment he had grown up in, he wondered what exactly he had been trying to prove. He looked at his reflection in the window. Light blond hair, almost golden. Tired blue eyes. A face that looked older than it did in photographs. His phone vibrated on the desk. He turned around. Mum. Damian stared at the screen for a moment before answering. “Hi, Mum.” “Are you still working?” He smiled faintly. “You know me.” “I do. That's why I'm asking.” Her voice was warm, but there was something tired underneath it. Damian walked back to his desk. “I'll leave soon.” “You said that yesterday.” “And the day before.” “And the day before that.” He laughed quietly. For a moment, he was no longer the man who sat at the head of a company. He was simply Maxime's son. “You're impossible,” she said. “So I've been told.” There was a brief silence. Then she said, “Chloe called me today.” Something in Damian's expression changed. “How is she?” His mother hesitated. “She's okay.” Damian knew that answer. Okay rarely meant okay in their family. He sat down. “Did something happen?” “No. Nothing new.” Nothing new. Two words that could carry an entire history. Damian looked toward the window again. “I'm coming over this weekend.” “You don't have to.” “I know.” Another silence. Then his mother sighed. “You work too much, Damian.” “I know.” “You're becoming like me.” That made him smile. “That's supposed to scare me?” “It should.” He laughed again. But after they hung up, the smile disappeared. His eyes fell on the photograph sitting in the corner of his desk. It wasn't a picture anyone who knew him professionally would have expected to find there. It was old. Slightly faded. Three children stood in front of a beach house, squinting into the sun. Chloe was standing in the middle, one arm around Damian's shoulders. Damian couldn't have been more than ten. His mother stood behind them. Everyone was smiling. Everyone looked happy. Mallorca. He hadn't thought about that summer in years. Or at least, he had tried not to. Damian picked up the photograph. His thumb brushed over the edge. There had been a time when Mallorca meant nothing more than summer. Warm evenings. Salt on his skin. His mother's laughter. Chloe complaining about the heat. And a version of his family that still existed—at least in photographs. Years later, Mallorca had become something different. A place his mother and Chloe returned to whenever they needed to escape. A place filled with old friends, familiar houses and memories Damian rarely allowed himself to examine too closely. Maybe that was why, a few years ago, he had bought them a house there. He had told himself it was a gift. A thank-you. Something beautiful his mother and sister could call their own. But deep down, Damian knew the truth. He had bought that house because there were some things money couldn't repair. And he had spent most of his life trying anyway. His phone vibrated again. This time, it wasn't his mother. It was his assistant. Flight confirmed for Friday. Mallorca. Damian stared at the message. He hadn't planned to go. Not really. But perhaps it was time. He placed the photograph back on the desk. Then he looked once more at the city outside his window. A successful man. A successful life. Everything exactly where it was supposed to be. So why did it feel as though something was missing? Damian didn't know the answer yet. He only knew that by the end of that week, he would be standing on an island he hadn't visited in years. And he had no idea that somewhere there, waiting completely outside the life he had so carefully built, was the one person he had never truly managed to leave behind.