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1094 Words
Sim’s POV The rain hadn’t stopped for three days. It drummed against the roof of her studio, drowning out the world beyond her paints and brushes. She used to love rain. She used to believe storms meant renewal—that after thunder, the sky would always clear. But now the sound only reminded her of Ethan. Her brush hovered over the canvas, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. Every stroke felt like a lie. Every color bled into gray. “Sim?” She looked up. Adrian stood in the doorway, his hair damp from the rain. He carried a box of pastries in one hand, a lantern in the other. “You forgot to eat again.” He set the box down, his tone soft but firm. Sim wanted to protest, but the truth was she had forgotten. She had been too busy drowning in memories. Adrian opened the lantern, flooding the dim studio with golden light. “There. Now it feels less like a prison.” And as he sat with her, handing her a pastry she didn’t know she needed, Sim realized something terrifying: Adrian was slowly weaving himself into the spaces Ethan had left behind. --- Ethan’s POV He had never felt powerless before. Not like this. Ethan’s parents spoke of contracts and alliances as though his heart was a business transaction. His father had warned him again just last night: “If you continue this nonsense with that girl, we will destroy her reputation. No gallery, no patron, no future.” The threat poisoned him. It shackled him in silence. But what cut deepest was seeing Sim with Adrian. He had watched them once, from the shadows outside her studio. Adrian handed her food, wiped a smear of paint from her cheek, and she let him. She even smiled. That smile used to be his. Ethan turned away, fury and grief twisting inside him. He wanted to believe she was only leaning on Adrian out of loneliness. But doubt gnawed at him—what if she was beginning to forget him? No, he thought, his fists tightening. I won’t let him take her from me. She’s mine. She always has been. --- Adrian’s POV He knew Ethan was watching. He felt his glare like a shadow lingering wherever Sim went. Adrian didn’t care. Sim needed someone who would show up, someone who would put her before everything else—not hide behind silence and excuses. One evening, as they walked home beneath his umbrella, he found himself speaking words he hadn’t meant to. “You deserve a love that doesn’t break you, Sim. You deserve someone who fights for you, not against you.” Her steps faltered. “Adrian…” He almost reached for her hand but stopped. Her eyes were full of pain, torn between past and present. He knew her heart still clung to Ethan, even if she didn’t want it to. So he forced a smile. “I’m not asking for anything. Just… let me be here. That’s all.” But inside, Adrian’s heart whispered something truer: I’ll wait for you, even if it takes forever. --- Aira’s POV The engagement ring felt heavier each day. Aira sat at her desk, staring at it, her chest tight with guilt. Sim no longer looked at her the same way—the warmth in her best friend’s eyes had turned to suspicion and hurt. And Ethan? Ethan looked at her like she was a stranger, a chain he wanted to break. She hated it. She hated her parents for agreeing to the arrangement. She hated herself for not being brave enough to end it. But the worst part was Adrian. She saw the way he looked at Sim. She saw the way Sim softened around him. And a small, selfish part of her thought—maybe if Adrian took Sim’s heart, Ethan would finally let go. But that thought made her sick with shame. Because deep down, she wanted to believe Sim and Ethan were meant to be. And yet here she was, trapped in the middle, tearing them apart without meaning to. --- Sim’s POV Adrian’s kindness was steady, like the rhythm of her own heartbeat. But at night, when she was alone, Ethan’s voice haunted her. “I never stopped loving you. Everything I did was to protect you.” Was that the truth? Or just another lie to keep her from moving on? She wanted to believe Adrian’s warmth was enough. She wanted to rest in it, to let him carry her storms. But every time Adrian’s hand brushed hers, she pulled away—because her heart still remembered Ethan’s touch. It was torture, being torn between the man who had broken her and the man who was offering to heal her. One evening, after a long day at the studio, she whispered to Adrian, “Why do you stay?” He looked at her, his eyes unreadable. “Because I’d rather be the one holding your broken pieces than watch someone else shatter you again.” Her throat tightened. She had no answer. --- Ethan’s POV The confrontation came sooner than expected. He found Adrian locking up the community center and couldn’t hold back any longer. “You think you can replace me?” Ethan’s voice was low, sharp. Adrian turned, calm but unyielding. “I’m not trying to replace you. I’m just doing what you failed to do—be there for her.” Ethan’s fists clenched. “You don’t know what I’ve sacrificed.” “No,” Adrian said coldly, “what you sacrificed was her. And now you’re angry because someone else is helping her stand.” The words struck Ethan like knives. For the first time, he wondered if maybe he had already lost her. --- Sim’s POV When she heard about the confrontation, her anger exploded. “How dare you,” she spat at Ethan when he tried to explain. “How dare you fight him when you didn’t fight for me?” His voice cracked. “Sim, I never stopped loving you. Don’t let him twist this—” Her tears burned. “You broke me, Ethan. And now you’re jealous because Adrian is putting me back together?” She turned away, and Adrian was already there—steady, dependable, offering silence instead of excuses. Sim leaned against him, exhausted, and felt Ethan’s presence fade behind her like a shadow she could no longer chase. But even as she rested in Adrian’s arms, her heart whispered Ethan’s name.
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