Till His Memory Returns

Ariana’s POV Morning sunlight spilled across the marble floor of the Blackwood mansion, turning everything gold and quiet. Dust floated in the air like tiny ghosts. Ariana Moore stood beside the tall windows, one hand resting on her suitcase handle. The house, usually filled with the low hum of servants and the smell of fresh coffee, was silent. She had packed her life into one small bag five years of love, tears, and memories zipped away like they were nothing. A piano tune echoed faintly from the living room. Damien used to play that same song when he was trying to think. She closed her eyes and remembered his hands—strong, steady, always in control of something. Except her. Her phone vibrated on the table. A message from her best friend: “Are you sure?” Ariana typed back slowly. “Yes. I can’t love a man who stopped seeing me.” She slipped the phone into her purse, took one last look around the room, and whispered to the empty air, “Good-bye, Damien.” Damien’s POV Upstairs, Damien Blackwood buttoned his cufflinks with mechanical precision. His reflection in the mirror looked perfectly p tailored suit, smooth hair, the face of a billionaire everyone feared and respected. Yet something inside him was off, a pulse of unease he couldn’t explain. He heard the wheels of her suitcase rolling across the floor before he saw her. “Ariana,” he said, his voice calm but clipped, “you’re really leaving.” She turned, her brown eyes glossy with unshed tears. “You gave me no reason to stay.” He frowned, folding his arms. “We just had an argument. You always overreact.” “An argument?” Her voice cracked. “Damien, we haven’t talked in months. You come home after midnight, you barely look at me, and when you do, it’s like I’m a stranger living in your house.” Damien inhaled sharply, forcing patience. “I’ve been busy. “With what? Your business, your image, your pride?” Ariana stepped closer, trembling but firm. “I’ve been standing right here, waiting for you to remember how to love me.” The silence that followed was heavy enough to break them . She could see the flicker of guilt cross his face, but it vanished as quickly as it came. He was too proud, too used to control. That pride had built his empire and destroyed their love. “I’m not asking for your money, Damien,” she whispered. “Just your heart. But maybe that’s the one thing you no longer own.” His jaw tightened. “If you walk out that door, don’t expect me to come after you.” The words sliced through her like glass. Still, she smiled faintly, the kind of smile that hides pain. “That’s exactly what I expected.” She turned away, picked up her suitcase, and began to walk. Each step echoed against the marble, steady and final. Damien didn’t move. He only watched her until the door closed behind her, leaving nothing but the sound of his own heartbeat. Damien’s POV When the door shut, the mansion suddenly felt like a tomb. He went to the bar, poured himself a drink he didn’t taste, and stared out the window. The city was alive below cars, horns, chaos but inside him there was nothing. He had thought she would stay, that she always would. He didn’t realize the ache in his chest until the glass in his hand cracked. His phone rang. His assistant’s voice came through. “Sir, the board meeting in forty minutes.” “Cancel it,” Damien said, surprising himself. “Cancel it?” He set the glass down and grabbed his car keys. “Just do it.” Ariana’s POV The taxi moved slowly through the morning traffic. Ariana watched the skyline slide past the place she had dreamed of conquering with Damien by her side. She had loved him when he had nothing but ambition and a dangerous smile. She had built her world around him, and now she was starting from ashes. Her phone buzzed again. Another message, this time from Damien’s mother: “He’ll come around. Don’t make a scene.” A bitter laugh escaped her lips. They would never understand. Loving Damien Blackwood had been her greatest dream and her quietest heartbreak. She turned her face to the window, hiding the tears that finally fell. Damien’s POV Rain started to tap against the windshield as Damien’s black sports car cut through the streets of Manhattan. The clouds rolled in fast, heavy and gray. He drove with no destination, only a need to silence the noise inside his head. Her voice echoed through him “Maybe that’s the one thing you no longer own.” He gripped the steering wheel tighter. She was wrong. He had loved her. He still did. He just didn’t know how to show it without feeling weak. The traffic light turned red, but he barely noticed. He remembered their first meeting her laughter, her stubborn eyes. How she’d told him money could buy comfort, not love. Back then, he had admired her fire. Now he had extinguished it. The light switched to green. He pressed the accelerator. Ariana’s POV Her cab stopped at the corner café where she had promised to meet her friend before heading to the train station. She stepped out, the air damp and cold. Across the street, a news billboard flashed the morning headlines, the sound of sirens faint in the distance. She ignored it and ordered coffee, her hands shaking as she reached for the cup. Maybe one day, he’ll realize what he lost, she thought. But by then, I’ll be gone. Damien’s POV The rain grew heavier, blurring the city lights. He was speeding now, past memory and reason. His phone buzzed on the seat beside him Ariana’s picture lighting up the screen. For the first time that morning, he smiled. He reached for it. A blinding horn split the air. Tires screeched. Glass shattered. The world tilted. Everything went white. Ariana’s POV Her phone slipped from her fingers as the café’s television flickered to breaking news. “Accident on Fifth Avenue. Blackwood Industries CEO Damien Blackwood involved in severe crash.” The cup shattered on the floor. Her heart stopped