Chapter 13: The Return
1084 Words
The sky was dull and overcast, the kind of gray that clung to the air and made everything feel heavier. Callum stood outside the glass-fronted studio, staring through the window like a man outside a life he had once tasted but could never claim again. Behind the glass, he saw color—brush strokes of passion on wide swaths of fabric, sketches pinned to boards, and workers moving with purpose.
But she wasn’t there.
He took a breath, steadied the guilt crawling down his spine, and stepped through the door.
He wasn't here to beg.
He wasn’t here to win her back.
He just needed to say it: I'm sorry.
But fate had a twisted sense of timing.
The door hadn’t even closed behind him when Levi Kim appeared from a side hallway, wiping his hands on a cloth, his dark brows lifting in slow realization.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Levi’s voice dropped an octave, slicing through the soft hum of the studio like a cold blade.
Callum didn't flinch. He met Levi's glare with the calm of someone who'd already been gutted once before. “I’m here to speak to Elena.”
“She’s not here,” Levi said immediately. “And even if she was, she doesn’t need you dragging your mess back in.”
He drag him to most not unfamiliar premises.
“I just need a minute,” Callum replied, jaw tightening. “Not for her to take me back. Just... a minute to say what should’ve been said.”
Levi dropped the cloth onto the counter and stepped forward. “You had plenty of minutes, Callum. You had months. You lied to her. You broke her. And now what? You want to stitch a bandaid over it with an apology?”
Callum didn’t respond. He knew what he’d done. No defense would sound anything but pathetic.
“I gave up everything to take Cade down,” he said instead. “I walked away from my life. My reputation. I didn’t ask her to wait. I didn’t even contact her again. But this... I need to face her.”
Levi’s mouth curled in a cold smile. “You’re months too late.”
Callum’s eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Levi hesitated only a beat.
“I’m her boyfriend now.”
Silence.
The words rang between them like a bell struck too hard.
Callum stepped closer. “Are you?”
Levi straightened. “I am. I show up. I take care of her. I don’t disappear into the shadows and then reappear when it's convenient for my conscience.”
Callum’s voice dropped low. “You’re lying.”
“And you’re trespassing.”
Without warning, Callum’s fist connected with Levi’s jaw—not with full force, but enough to snap his head to the side.
Levi stumbled back, shocked for only a second before he launched forward. The two collided, arms grappling, limbs shoving. Fabric bolts tumbled. A mannequin fell, clattering to the ground.
Callum ducked the next punch. Levi wasn’t trained, but he was fast and angry.
“You don’t deserve her!” Levi shouted.
“And you think you do?” Callum grunted, pinning Levi briefly before they both slammed into the back shelf.
Punches landed.
One to Levi’s cheek. Another to Callum’s side.
A final thud, and they collapsed onto the ground, both breathless, both bleeding pride.
Levi coughed and rolled away, cradling his bruised eye. “She’s not yours anymore,” he muttered.
Callum sat back against the wall, catching his breath. “She was never mine to begin with.”
The studio door opened.
They froze—but it was just a delivery guy dropping off a package.
Both men scrambled to their feet, equally ashamed and stubborn.
Callum adjusted his jacket and turned for the door. “Tell her I stopped by. She deserves to hear it in person, but... maybe she doesn’t want to. And I’d respect that.”
Levi didn’t stop him. He only stood there, clutching his ribs, watching as Callum disappeared out the door.
Later That Day – Elena’s Studio
Elena leaned over a drafting table, fingers stained with pencil lead. Her collection was nearly complete—just three more designs to polish.
The door opened.
She looked up and blinked. “Levi?”
He looked like hell. One eye swollen, his lower lip smeared red, and a nasty bruise forming along his jawline.
“Oh my god,” she said, hurrying over. “What happened to you?!”
Levi tried to wave it off, but she was already guiding him to sit, pulling out a first aid kit with practiced hands.
“Did someone mug you? Where were you? Why didn’t you call—”
“A wild cat appeared and attacked me,” he said casually, wincing when she pressed a cotton pad to his lip.
“A what?” she frowned, confused.
He shrugged. “Just a metaphor.”
She narrowed her eyes but didn’t press. “Hold still. You’re bleeding.”
He did as told, watching her carefully. Her brows furrowed in concern, her fingers gentle despite the sharp way she always barked orders at interns and clients alike.
He liked this version of her—the quiet, worried one who still had room in her heart to care.
He cleared his throat. “Elena.”
She paused. “Yeah?”
“I know things have been… hard. And I’ve always been around. But I don’t want to be just your delivery guy or the friend who brings you soup.”
She looked up at him, uncertain.
“I want more,” he said. “I want you.”
Her hands dropped away. “Levi…”
“I’m not pressuring you,” he added quickly. “I just thought… maybe after everything with him, you’d finally see what’s right in front of you.”
Elena looked away, throat tight.
She had seen it. Levi was loyal, kind, and safe.
But safe didn’t set her heart on fire.
Still, she didn’t say no.
Instead, she tucked the first aid kit back on the shelf and turned to the window.
Outside, the city glimmered with the soft light of a setting sun.
Inside, her heart warred between two men—one a storm she had weathered, and one a harbor she had quietly leaned on.
And yet, neither knew the truth.
She wasn’t ready.
Not yet.
But she’d have to choose.
Soon.
- Writer
