WHEN LOVE BECOMES THE LIES

The weather in downtown Chicago was gloomy, the kind that sank into the bones and made everything feel heavier. A gentle breeze swept past Arielle, sending a shiver down her spine. Arielle's phone buzzed again. Mortgage reminders. Debt notifications. What else could it be? Arielle wondered. Arielle's salary had come in late this month, tightening her already strained budget. She stretched her body, weighed down by exhaustion. Working as a talent assistant in an agency was never easy, but today felt worse than usual. Even the bus ride home had dragged the last bit of energy out of her. It was her day off, yet all Arielle could think about was visiting Mrs. Holt in the hospital. She’d been going every day since the older woman was admitted. Mrs. Holt had been the one quietly supporting Arielle for years guiding her, protecting her, even helping her relocate to the city. “Chicago has opportunities,” she always said. Opportunities Arielle still hadn’t found. Losing her mother to the scandal that destroyed everything had left a wound she hadn’t recovered from. Arielle's mother—once a beloved actress with a name everyone knew had faded into tragedy. And somehow, Arielle ended up here, trying to rebuild herself from ashes. Relocating on Mrs. Holt’s advice hadn’t been easy, but at least she didn’t live alone. Her roommate, Lila, was the closest thing she had to family now. Dragging her tired body toward the bathroom, Arielle let the hot shower drown her thoughts. Steam curled around her, softening the sharp edges of her worries which only lasted for a moment. As Arielle stepped out, the doorbell rang. Lila peeked in, raising a brow. “You look like someone who just saw a ghost,” Lila teased, nudging her lightly before wandering toward the wardrobe. Arielle hesitated after a moment, her eyes landing on the soft yellow dress Mrs. Holt had bought her during one of their outings. She picked it up gently, brushing her fingers on the fabric. “Hoping…just hoping.” That the color would bring a smile to the older woman’s face. Arielle stepped out of the cab and headed into the mall, hoping to pick up a few things before visiting Mrs. Holt. The hall was buzzing with people moving in every direction, carts rolling, cashiers calling out totals, children tugging at their parents. It was the usual chaos, but her mind was elsewhere. Arielle drifted into the fruit section, carefully selecting Mrs. Holt’s favorite apples. After that, Arielle made her way to the flower corner, pausing to take in the soft colors of the bouquets. She reached out to pick one when something on the big television mounted high above the mall caught her attention. A breath hitched in her throat. “Kieran Holt.” His face filled the screen, sharp and controlled as always, Chicago’s most powerful CEO, and Mrs. Holt’s son. Arielle had met him a few times, usually during family dinners at the Holtwood Estate when Mrs. Holt insisted on inviting her. Arielle still remembered how surreal it always felt knowing him, standing that close to him. Arielle admired him. “Always had.” But aside from Mrs. Holt’s warm presence, the rest of the Holt family barely acknowledged her. Their silences and polite nods always carried a quiet message. “You’re not one of us.” Arielle was still staring up at the screen when someone bumped into her with a cart, snapping her out of her thoughts. Mumbling a quick apology, she steadied the bouquet in her hand and slipped a handwritten note inside the flower. Get well soon, Mrs. Holt. With love, Arielle. With the flowers tucked neatly under her arm, Arielle left the mall and headed toward the hospital. Twenty minutes later, Arielle pulled up in front of one of Chicago’s most exclusive hospitals. Even at a glance, the sleek architecture and the lineup of luxury cars made it clear this was a place for the elite. Arielle froze mid-step as her gaze locked on the Rolls-Royce parked at the end of the lot. Arielle handed over the special pass Mrs. Holt had insisted she receive, and the receptionist gave a quick nod of approval. The familiar scent of antiseptic hit her as the usual serene hospital buzzed with activity, a low hum of hurried footsteps, beeping monitors, and murmured conversations. Arielle’s eyes scanned the corridor, The polished floors reflected her hesitant steps, each echoing in the quiet corridor. Something in the air felt off. She pushed the thought aside, forcing herself to focus on the task at hand. She clutched the bouquet tightly, with the hand-written note tucked securely in her pocket. As Arielle walked toward the private room with uncertainties coiled up tight inside of her chest. Arielle's steps faltered a bit when a familiar figure ahead of her moved with effortless control, commanding the attention of everyone around without trying. No other person than Kieran, and his siblings. Her stomach lurched, and for a moment Arielle froze. Arielle steadied herself, forcing her shoulders back and lifting her gaze forward. Every step felt heavier, her mind racing with a mix of anticipation and dread. Something she couldn’t yet name was waiting just beyond that door. Arielle took a deep breath as she gathered courage and walked towards them, This didn't seem right as she noticed their appearances Karen—Kieran's brother barely glanced her way, as Kieran's sister gave her a faint nod, Arielle stiffened, reminding her how little she belonged here. Arielle couldn't bring herself to ask too much details as she quietly asked Amelia Kieran's sister about Mrs Holt with indifference in her tone, Amelia replied “Mrs Holt had suffered an attack but was now being attended to.” Arielle clutched the flower tightly as she darted her eyes towards Kieran whose gaze has never left her since she arrived. Arielle stole a glance at the glass partition and saw Mrs Holt tried lying peacefully as monitors beep loudly echoing her fragile heartbeat.