ChapterThree
1045 Words
There she was, standing in the brittle chill of the morning, freshly discharged. The air was crisp, almost sharp, tugging at her skin as if reminding her that the world outside was still real, still waiting.
The nurses had been unusually polite. Their voices soft and their smiles careful. Ariel couldn’t remember the last time anyone had treated her with that kind of gentleness. Except, of course, in the beginning, back when Dannie had still pretended to be kind. Back when she’d been certain he would become the love of her life.
That certainty shattered the first time he laid his hands on her and told her she didn’t deserve love. That her mother had been right to leave. That she was broken, unfixable.
An itch crawled along her arm, a reminder of scars both visible and invisible.
“Damn Dannie,” she muttered under her breath. “Hope you choke every time they say your name.”
She stood by the roadside, waiting for a bus she wasn’t even sure she wanted to take, when a polished black car eased to a stop in front of her. It looked quiet, expensive, maybe even out of place.
A short man in his mid-forties stepped out, moving with a calm that seemed rehearsed yet somehow commanding.
“Miss Ariel,” he said, inclining his head slightly. “I’ve been ordered to pick you up.”
“Ordered?” she repeated, wary. “By who?”
“Sir Earl, miss.”
The name echoed strangely in her mind before settling. The man from yesterday. The one who had somehow reached her when no one else had.
“Why?” she asked, though exhaustion dulled her curiosity.
“It’s just an order, miss. You can ask him yourself when you get there.”
He opened the door for her, and in that small motion, something about him felt unyielding. If this was k********g, she thought, it was the smoothest one in history. And yet, part of her didn’t want to escape.
She kept her eyes on the road, memorizing every turn, every landmark, just in case. The car glided silently through the city, its presence almost ghost like, until twenty minutes later, it pulled into a tall, imposing apartment building.
“Eighteenth floor. House number thirty-nine,” the driver said, handing her the keys after opening the door.
“That’s it?” she asked. “Wait—”
But he was already driving away.
“What now?” she whispered to herself, a thread of unease curling in her chest.
The key turned easily and the door clicked open. She stepped inside.
The space was vast, fully furnished, and immaculate. Glass walls stretched wide, swallowing the city whole. Light bounced off polished surfaces, reflecting a world she didn’t belong to. She stepped in slowly, scanning the room, half-expecting someone to appear.
A part of her hoped he would, but her phone rang instead.
“Ariel.”
The way he said her name made her pause. His voice wasn’t just casual, it carried a weight, a quiet intensity that seemed to anchor the room.
“Earl,” she replied, voice betraying a flicker of surprise.
“Are you settling in?” he asked. “There’s food in the fridge.”
Her grip tightened around the phone. “Why am I alone in your house?”
A beat.
“My apologies,” he said, carefully measured. “I’m not in right now. I come here when I need to clear my mind. You should see the city lights at night, wild. I thought you might like it. Just for tonight. Before you go back.”
She didn’t answer.
Her gaze drifted to the glass walls. Half the city stretched beneath her, quiet and distant. She imagined the night lights scattered like constellations, streets humming softly, life moving on without her.
She decided then. One night. That was it. Tomorrow, she would go back to her place and fix herself.
“Okay… just for the night,” she responded before hanging up.
She slid open the balcony door, letting the wind tangle through her hair. For the first time in days, her chest loosened. Earl. His name. His presence. The moment he had pulled her from the edge replayed in her mind, sharp and vivid.
She allowed herself to breathe without the weight of the past pressing down on her.
Someone had cared whether she lived.
Strange.
“You like the view?” A deep, familiar voice brushed her ears. Ariel startled, her breath catching.
He had been watching her for a while now.
“You’re here,” she said, unsure whether the feeling rising in her chest was relief or surprise.
“I was just leaving the gym when I called you,” he said. “Had to check that you were safe.”
“You have a good view up here,” she replied, turning back toward the city.
He stepped closer. Reasonably close and yet close enough that Ariel suddenly found breathing difficult. She studied him without meaning to. His strong arms. The same ones that had pulled her from the edge. He was tall, solid, his jaw utterly defined, like he had stepped straight out of a Vogue spread. The all-black gym outfit only deepened the mystery.
“I knew you’d like it,” Earl said, pointing toward a tall, pointed building in the distance. “That there is what I like to call the Eiffel Tower.”
“I think the Eiffel Tower is in France,” Ariel said, a soft chuckle slipping out.
“Is it?” Earl replied, feigning shock. “So my whole city map has been a lie.”
“Pretty much. That’s the Linnel Tower, the third-tallest building in the city,” she said.
“You should take me around sometime,” he added. “I’ve never actually toured the city.”
“Just in cars, huh?” she teased. “With a personal driver. Must be nice being you.”
His mood shifted instantly. The lightness vanished.
“Be carefulwhat you wish for,” he said quietly.
Before she could respond, his phone began to buzz.
Ariel watched him in silence, her thoughts spiraling.
Who the hell was this guy?
- Writer
