Distance and Doubt
552 Words
Chapter 16: Distance and Doubt
Three days.
That’s how long it had been since Leila walked away.
Three days of unanswered calls, unopened messages, and headlines that twisted every detail of her relationship with Damian into a tabloid circus.
“Fake Fiancée Flees the Scene!”
“Is the Wedding Off?”
“Damian Cole’s Mystery Girl Vanishes After Sunset Showdown”
Leila sat alone in her apartment, lights off, curtains drawn. Zara had stopped by twice, leaving food and flowers, but Leila didn’t have the energy to respond.
Her heart felt cracked.
Not broken, not shattered — just… cracked.
Like it could still be put back together, but it wouldn’t be the same.
Meanwhile, at the Cole estate, Damian was spiraling.
Not outwardly. No one would see it in the perfectly tailored suits or the calm, clipped emails.
But inside?
He was unraveling.
He’d spent years building walls around himself — emotional armor so tight, no one could get close. Then Leila walked into his life with sharp honesty and messy passion, and suddenly, the armor wasn’t enough.
He missed her. Every second.
But more than that… he regretted everything he hadn’t said.
On the fourth day, Leila finally left the apartment to check on the shop.
The place was a mess.
Anonymous reviews had flooded their page. The morning delivery van had been vandalized. One of the windows had a c***k from a thrown rock — proof that online hate had spilled into the real world.
Marina had tried to keep it together, bless her, but the damage was done.
“I can handle the orders,” Marina said gently. “But not the press. They’re circling.”
Leila sank into the counter stool, rubbing her forehead. “I never thought it would go this far.”
“They don’t care what’s true, sweetheart,” Marina said. “They care what sells. And right now? You’re good business.”
That night, back in her apartment, Leila stared at the single rose on her kitchen table — the one Damian had sent her months ago, now long dried but still standing.
Her phone buzzed.
Damian. Again.
She reached for it.
Paused.
Then, finally, answered.
“Leila.” His voice sounded tired. Rough.
She didn’t speak.
“I’m not calling to convince you to come back,” he said. “I just… need you to know something.”
She swallowed.
“I was wrong. About the clause. About not telling you. About everything, honestly. I thought if I had control, I could protect what mattered. But control doesn’t protect anything — it just pushes people away.”
Silence.
“I’ll dissolve the contract,” he said. “No penalties. No legal tricks. You’re free.”
Still, she said nothing.
“But I’m not,” he added quietly. “Not free from this. From how I feel.”
Her throat tightened.
“I fell for you, Leila. Not the version on paper. The real one. The stubborn, brilliant, beautiful woman who turned my world upside down.”
Another pause.
“I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I needed you to know. That’s all.”
He hung up.
And for a long time, Leila just sat there…
Staring at the rose.
Because even though she had walked away…
Her heart never had.
- Writer
