MY ONE NIGHT DON

Chapter 7:Maya's apology

I hadn’t seen Maya since the night my world shattered. Since I walked into Liam’s apartment and found my heart, my dignity, my trust sprawled between them like discarded sheets, tangled in their betrayal. The image was burned into my mind her legs wrapped around him, his groans, her moans, the Rolex slipping from my hand to the floor. I’d blocked her number, blocked Liam’s, avoided our usual haunts coffee shops, bars, the park where we used to laugh until we couldn’t breathe. I’d even called in sick to work for two days, needing space from the suffocating weight of their betrayal, the way it clung to me like damp air.

It was as if a silent war had erupted inside me, a battle between the Elara I’d been trusting, open, foolish and the one I’d become overnight. Elara 2.0 was quieter, colder, sharper, like a blade honed by pain. I didn’t laugh freely anymore. Didn’t give people the benefit of the doubt. I moved through the world with a new wariness, my eyes scanning shadows for threats I couldn’t name. And in my pocket, always, was that black card, Valen Moretti’s name, a constant pulse, a reminder of the danger I’d stumbled into and couldn’t shake.

So when the knock came on that rainy Saturday afternoon, sharp and insistent against my apartment door, I ignored it. The rain battered the windows, a relentless drumbeat that matched the ache in my chest. The city outside was a gray blur, its lights smudged by the downpour, and I wanted nothing more than to stay curled on my couch, hidden from the world.

The knock came again, louder, more desperate. I froze, my breath catching, the sound slicing through the apartment’s heavy silence. Then a voice, soft and broken, slipped through the door like a ghost. “Elara, please… it’s me.”

My heart stopped.

Maya.

My former best friend. The girl who’d braided my hair in school corridors, who’d held my hand through my first heartbreak, who’d laughed with me over cheap wine and bad movies. The one I called family. Now, she was just the girl who’d slept with my boyfriend, who’d torn my world apart with a single, careless act.

Another knock, sharper, followed by a sob that sounded like it was tearing her apart. “Elara, I know you’re in there. Please. Just give me two minutes. I’ll leave after that. I swear.”

Something in her voice stopped me,fragile, raw, not the confident Maya I knew. It wasn’t the polished apology I’d expected, not the calculated charm she could wield like a weapon. This sounded real, and that scared me more than anything. I didn’t move, my hand hovering over the doorknob, my pulse racing like I was standing on the edge of a cliff. The shadows in my apartment seemed to thicken, the rain’s rhythm a warning in the background. I didn’t want to face her. I didn’t want to feel the wound reopen.

But I cracked the door anyway, just an inch, the chain still in place. Her face appeared in the gap,mascara smudged into dark streaks, cheeks soaked with rain or tears or both, eyes puffy and red. She looked like pain, like a mirror of the wreckage she’d left in me. Good.

“Two minutes,” I said, my voice flat, cold, unrecognizable. I unhooked the chain and stepped aside, letting the door swing open.

She walked in like a shadow, her footsteps hesitant, her shoulders hunched. The apartment felt smaller with her in it, the air heavier, charged with the weight of what we’d lost. She stood in the middle of the living room, dripping onto the hardwood, her hands trembling as she clutched her coat. The rain outside roared, a relentless curtain that made the world feel far away, trapping us in this moment.

“I don’t know where to start,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the storm. “I messed up, Elara. I ruined everything.”

“Yes,” I said, folding my arms, my tone sharp enough to cut. “You did.”

She flinched, her eyes dropping to the floor. “Liam and I… it wasn’t planned. It was stupid. A mistake. One night that got out of control.”

I stepped closer, my voice low, venomous. “Was it just one night?”

She froze, her breath hitching. Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating, broken only by the rain’s relentless drumming.

“How long?” I pressed, my hands clenching into fists.

“Three months,” she breathed, so quiet I almost missed it. “But it didn’t mean anything, Elara. It was lust, not love. It was never love.”

I laughed, a bitter, jagged sound that echoed in the small space. “And that makes it better? That you betrayed me for three months because you were horny?”

She dropped to her knees, her coat pooling around her like spilled ink. “No. No, it doesn’t. I’m disgusting. I know. I’ve lost you, and I can’t sleep, can’t breathe. I keep replaying it, hating myself more every time.” Her voice broke, tears streaming down her face, mixing with the rain on her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Elara. I’m so sorry.”

I stared at her, the girl I’d once loved like a sister, the one who knew every secret, every scar. The one who’d become my greatest wound. Her sobs filled the room, raw and desperate, but they didn’t touch me. Not the way they used to. I felt cold, distant, like I was watching a stranger unravel.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, my voice steady despite the storm inside me. “Why betray me like that? You knew what Liam meant to me.”

She looked up, her eyes pleading, broken. “Because I was jealous,” she whispered, choking on the words. “Of you. Your life. Your confidence. The way Liam looked at you like you were the only thing in the world. I wanted that. I wanted someone to look at me like that. I got carried away, and then… I couldn’t stop.”

Jealousy. Of all things. The word hit like a slap, sharp and stinging. I leaned against the wall, my breath shallow, trying to keep myself from shattering. “You were the only person I trusted, Maya. The only one who knew what he meant to me. And you took that.”

“I know,” she sobbed, her hands covering her face. “I know. And I’ll never forgive myself. But I had to come. I had to try. Even if you never speak to me again. Even if you hate me forever.”

The room fell silent, the weight of our lost friendship pressing down like a physical force. The rain outside seemed louder, a relentless roar that matched the chaos in my head. I wanted to scream, to throw her out, to make her feel the pain she’d carved into me. But I didn’t. I just stood there, my arms crossed, my heart a fortress she couldn’t breach.

Finally, I spoke, my voice low, measured. “I don’t hate you.”

Her eyes snapped up, a flicker of hope in them, desperate and fragile.

“But I don’t forgive you either,” I said, the words cold, final. “Not yet.”

She froze, her breath catching, the hope in her eyes dimming. She nodded slowly, wiping her tears with shaking hands. “I understand.”

We sat in silence, the years of our friendship unraveling in the space between us. Grief, guilt, loss—they hung in the air, heavy and unspoken. The rain battered the windows, a constant reminder of the storm that had followed me since that night with Valen. Maya stood, her movements slow, deliberate, like she was afraid to break something else. She wiped her eyes, smearing mascara further, and looked at me one last time.

“Goodbye, Elara,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the rain.

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. She walked to the door, her footsteps soft, hesitant, and then she was gone, the door clicking shut behind her. The silence that followed was louder than her sobs, a void that swallowed everything our laughter, our secrets, the sisterhood we’d built over years. I stood there, staring at the door, my chest tight, my eyes dry. I didn’t cry. Not this time. Something inside me had hardened, a new Elara forged in the fires of betrayal and danger.

That chapter was closed. But the next one? That one had a different name, one that burned in my pocket, in my mind, in my dreams. Valen Moretti.

I didn’t expect her to show up. Not after what I saw, not after the way she’d torn my world apart. But Maya’s visit had cracked something open, a reminder of the life I’d lost and the one I was stumbling into. I sank onto the couch, the black card still in the bedroom drawer, its presence a pulse in the dark. I could feel it, even from here, like a heartbeat calling me back to that night, to Valen’s silver eyes, his warning, the text that had come after: “You were warned.”

The rain hadn’t stopped, its rhythm a relentless chant, urging me to move, to act, to decide. But decide what? To forget him, as Maya had begged? To burn the card and run from the danger it represented? Or to chase it, to find Valen Moretti and demand answers for the way he’d unraveled me, for the way his name now haunted every corner of my life?

I stood, my legs unsteady, and walked to the bedroom. The drawer creaked as I opened it, the card glinting in the dim light like a shard of obsidian. I picked it up, my fingers trembling, the silver ink cold against my skin. Valen Moretti. CEO, Moretti Global Holdings. The words felt alive, dangerous, a key to a world I didn’t understand but couldn’t escape. I thought of the headlines the heiress, the gala, the whispers of Mafia ties. I thought of his voice, his touch, the way he’d looked at me like he saw every broken piece and wanted them anyway.

Was I in danger? The question gnawed at me, a shadow that followed every step. The text from the unknown number still burned in my mind, a threat I couldn’t ignore. Valen knew I’d looked him up, knew I hadn’t listened. And now, with Maya’s warning ringing in my ears, I felt the walls closing in, the air growing thinner, the city outside watching me through the rain.

I slipped the card into my pocket, its weight a tether to something I couldn’t name. The apartment felt too small, the shadows too deep, as if they were whispering his name. I didn’t know what was next—whether I was a loose end in Valen’s world or something more. But as the rain roared and the city pulsed beyond my window, I knew one thing: I wasn’t done with him. And he wasn’t done with me.

I grabbed my coat, the card burning against my hip, and stepped into the storm.z

The night was waiting, and so was he.

I pulled my hood tighter against the rain, forcing my steps forward, but stopped cold when I saw it a sleek black car idling across the street, engine purring, windows tinted too dark to see inside.

The passenger window rolled down an inch.

And I saw him, he looked like he had walked out of my dreams with hair perfectly pushed back and eyes that could see right through you as if looking through your soul. Everything inside me stilled, and my breath, my thoughts even my heart skipped a beat. He was painfully beautiful…

And a voice I knew far too well slid through the storm.

“Get in, Elara.”