A Past That Never Let Go
1943 Words
Amara kept her head down as she walked through the marble-floored hallway of the Voss estate, every step echoing her uncertainty. Her conversation with Zayden had left her rattled. He said their marriage was temporary, a mistake — but if that were true, why did her chest ache every time she looked at him?
She’d barely slept, haunted by questions. Who orchestrated the contract? Why her? And why now?
She pushed open the door to the guest lounge, hoping for a moment to breathe. Instead, she froze.
Zayden sat by the window, sipping espresso like a scene from a luxury ad. Across from him, perched delicately on the arm of the sofa in a skin-tight red dress, was her — Celeste Laurent. Heiress. Model. Socialite. And the last woman who should be in this house.
Amara instinctively smoothed her hair, self-conscious in Zayden’s oversized shirt.
Celeste turned, lips curling into a smirk. “Oh,” she said smoothly. “You’re still here.”
Zayden barely glanced up.
Amara stepped in with caution. “I live here. Apparently.”
Celeste’s laugh was like crystal shattering. “Live? Sweetheart, I’ve had layovers longer than that contract of yours.”
Zayden sighed, setting down his cup. “Celeste, you’re not welcome here.”
“Oh, come on, Zayden.” She swung her legs down and stood. “You marry some nobody out of the blue, and I don’t get so much as a courtesy call? After all we’ve… shared?”
Amara’s eyes narrowed. “Shared what, exactly?”
Celeste tilted her head. “Oh, darling. Business. History. Beds.”
Zayden stood, now serious. “Enough.”
But Celeste leaned closer to Amara, voice soft but sharp. “Do you really think you’re the first girl he’s used to clean up a scandal? He’ll toss you out once your 24 hours are up. And then maybe… maybe he’ll come to his senses.”
Amara swallowed hard but didn’t back down. “If he wants you, he can have you. But I’m not playing games.”
Celeste chuckled, brushing past her. “You’re already losing, sweetheart.”
She strutted out of the room like she owned the place.
The silence that followed was tense.
Amara turned to Zayden. “Why is she here?”
“I didn’t invite her.”
“But you didn’t throw her out either.”
Zayden’s jaw tensed. “Don’t confuse my tolerance for interest.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
He stepped closer. “I told you this was temporary.”
“Then stop acting like you care.”
He didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. His eyes burned through her like an accusation and a plea all in one.
——
Later that evening, Amara found herself in the garden, trying to clear her head. The city skyline glittered in the distance, mocking her confusion.
She heard footsteps behind her and turned—expecting Zayden.
But it wasn’t him.
It was Liam.
Her chest tightened.
He looked older now — leaner, more defined, the once-boyish charm replaced with something harder.
“Liam?” she breathed.
He smiled softly. “Hey, Mara.”
She rushed forward and hugged him before realizing what she was doing. They hadn’t seen each other since the breakup a year ago. He had vanished, no explanations, no closure.
“What… how are you here?”
“I came as soon as I heard.” He looked down. “Zayden Voss? Married? To you? I couldn’t believe it.”
Amara took a step back. “Why do you care?”
“Because I know you. This isn’t you. You don’t just get married overnight to some corporate demon.”
“Things happened fast—”
“And what, you just forgot about us?”
Amara’s breath caught.
“There was no us, Liam. You left. No messages. No reason.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“From what?”
“From myself.” He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “I was in a dark place. But I never stopped loving you.”
She swallowed hard, suddenly feeling like the ground under her wasn’t real.
Liam took her hand. “Come with me. We can leave all this behind.”
She pulled away. “It’s not that simple.”
“Is it Zayden? You actually feel something for him?”
“I don’t know!” she snapped. “I don’t know what this is. But you don’t get to walk back into my life and pretend nothing happened.”
He looked like he’d been slapped. “So you’re choosing him.”
“I’m choosing myself. And right now, I need answers — not more confusion.”
Liam stepped back, his jaw clenching. “Then I’ll wait. But don’t expect me to sit back and watch you fall for someone who’ll destroy you.”
He turned and walked away, his words hanging in the air like smoke.
——
That night, Amara found Zayden in the study, pouring over documents. She hesitated at the door.
He glanced up. “What now?”
“I saw Liam.”
His expression darkened. “He’s the ex, right?”
She nodded.
“He shouldn’t be here.”
“Neither should Celeste,” she shot back.
A beat of silence.
Zayden looked down at the contract in front of him. “The annulment’s ready. Sign it, and you’re free.”
Her heart twisted. “Is that what you want?”
He met her eyes. “It’s what you agreed to.”
“But it’s not what you want.”
He said nothing.
Amara stepped closer. “Zayden… what are you so afraid of?”
He looked at her like she’d just asked him to remove his armor.
“People like me don’t get happy endings.”
She smiled, bittersweet. “Maybe people like me don’t either.”
They stared at each other in the heavy silence.
No more words.
Just the unspoken war between what they felt… and what they feared.
Zayden stepped away first, the tension in his shoulders snapping back into that cold, composed mask he wore so well. He didn’t say a word as he straightened his jacket and walked out of the room, leaving Amara alone with the ghosts of everything unsaid.
She stared at the closed door, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her fingers still tingled from the feel of his touch. She wasn’t supposed to care. This was all supposed to be fake. Temporary. A mistake, even.
But Zayden Voss didn’t kiss like a mistake.
A knock shattered her spiraling thoughts. Not the firm, clipped knock Zayden used. This was hesitant. Curious.
She crossed the room and opened the door.
A tall figure stood there, his presence familiar, his eyes full of something dangerous.
“Liam?” she breathed.
Liam Kane. Her ex. The boy she once thought she’d marry. He looked the same—messy brown hair, chiseled jaw, soft but wounded eyes. Except now, he was wearing a tailored suit and a jealous fire.
“I heard rumors,” he said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “That you married Zayden Voss.”
Amara’s heart sank. “It’s not what you think.”
He laughed bitterly. “Isn’t it? I disappear for six months, and you suddenly end up in bed with the guy who owns half of Manhattan?”
“It was an accident,” she said quickly. “There was a contract. It’s ending soon.”
Liam’s voice dropped low. “You’re not his type, Amara. You’re sweet. Real. He only wants to control people. You’re just another game to him.”
“Stop,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “This isn’t about Zayden. You and I… we ended a long time ago.”
His eyes flickered with pain. “I never stopped loving you.”
Before she could respond, another voice sliced through the hallway.
“Well, this is awkward.”
Amara turned.
A tall, elegant girl in a white jumpsuit stood at the end of the hall, arms crossed, lips curled in disdain. Her glossy black hair was twisted into a sleek chignon, and diamonds sparkled on her ears.
“Seraphina Moreau,” Amara muttered under her breath.
Socialite. Heiress. Former fiancée of Zayden Voss—at least, in her mind. The girl who once declared Amara “the charity case who got lucky.”
Seraphina sauntered forward. “Imagine my surprise when I heard Zayden married some nobody student from a third-rate university.” She looked Amara up and down like she was a bug under her heel. “And now you’re entertaining guests. Does your sugar daddy know?”
Liam tensed. “Watch your mouth.”
“Oh?” Seraphina’s smile widened. “And who are you? Her rebound?”
“I’m someone who actually cares about her,” Liam snapped. “Unlike Zayden.”
Seraphina let out a breathy laugh. “That’s cute. But Zayden doesn’t care about anyone. He just uses them until they’re empty.”
Amara’s fists clenched. “You both need to leave.”
But before either could argue, Zayden’s voice boomed from behind.
“What’s going on?”
They all turned.
Zayden stood there in his usual flawless black suit, eyes sharp and unreadable. But Amara noticed the tick in his jaw.
Seraphina’s lips curled into a slow, feline smile. “Just visiting your… wife.”
Zayden’s gaze flicked to Liam. “And you are?”
“Someone she actually belongs with,” Liam said without flinching.
Zayden walked forward, every step radiating power. “You don’t get to decide that.”
“And you do?” Liam countered.
Zayden’s tone dropped, dark and possessive. “She’s wearing my ring. Living in my house. Signed my contract. So yes, I do.”
Silence. Thick. Charged.
Seraphina clapped slowly. “Well. This is better than reality TV.”
Amara stepped between them, her voice cutting through the tension. “Enough. This isn’t a damn pissing contest.”
She turned to Liam. “I’m sorry, but you don’t get to walk back into my life and make demands.”
Then to Seraphina. “And you don’t get to barge in and throw shade just because Zayden doesn’t want you.”
Seraphina’s eyes flashed. “This isn’t over.”
Zayden stepped forward, his voice icy. “If you ever show up uninvited again, I’ll make sure your family’s little perfume line disappears from every shelf in the country.”
Seraphina’s face turned pale. She stormed off without another word.
Liam lingered. “You’re making a mistake.”
Amara didn’t answer. She closed the door in his face.
Zayden turned to her, something dark flickering in his eyes. “You didn’t tell me you had an ex.”
“You didn’t ask.”
He stepped closer. “Do you still love him?”
She looked him dead in the eyes. “Do you still want Seraphina?”
They stared at each other. Neither spoke.
Then, without warning, he kissed her again—harder, rougher. This wasn’t gentle. This was war. Fire. Chaos.
Her back hit the wall, and his hands tangled in her hair.
“Tell me you’re mine,” he growled against her lips.
She gasped. “Zayden—”
“Say it.”
And God help her, she did.
“I’m yours.”
That night, everything blurred—rage, jealousy, lust. But in the morning, when sunlight spilled across the sheets again, Amara knew something dangerous had shifted.
This wasn’t just a fake marriage anymore.
It was a battlefield of hearts.
- Writer
