I am not giving up
1406 Words
Ariana pov
The sun was still high in the sky when I returned from the dress fitting. The gown would be delivered after a few alterations, and I couldn’t say I felt anything. No butterflies, no joy—just a numb weight in my chest.
When the car rolled to a stop in front of the mansion, I murmured a thank-you to the driver and stepped out. I headed straight for the stairs, hoping to disappear into my room before—
“Ariana.”
I turned around slowly, my heart already picking up speed. Jared stood at the base of the stairs, still in his scrubs.
“Hi, Jared,” I managed, forcing a polite smile. “Long shift?”
He nodded once. “Emergency surgery. I had to fly out for it.”
I folded my arms, suddenly self-conscious. “That explains why you’ve been gone for the past two days.”
There was a pause. I took a step toward the stairs, ready to retreat.
“I’m just going to head up and wash—”
“How long, Ariana?” His voice dropped, it was smooth but edged with something dangerous.
I stopped cold in my tracks.
“I—what?”
He stepped closer, slowly. “You knew how I felt. You knew I was interested in you. Is that why you never gave me a chance? Because of Ethan?”
I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. I didn’t turn around, afraid of what I’d see in his eyes.
Then I felt him move closer . Jared moved closer, his presence at my back overwhelming. Heat radiated from him, his breath brushing my neck. I turned, and he was right there.
Standing way too close.
“Jared…” I whispered.
His gaze flicked over my face, intense and unreadable.
“I would’ve treated you like a queen, Ariana,” he said softly, his voice a blend of anger and something more vulnerable. “And now I have to watch you marry him.”
“Well, I don’t care if you’re marrying him,” Jared whispered, his voice low and possessive, his lips far too close to mine. “I want you, Ariana. And I won’t stop until I get you back.”
His words hit me like a punch to the chest, stealing the air from my lungs.
I pushed him back, my palms flat against his chest. “Jared, stop. I’m marrying your cousin.”
“But do you love him?” he asked, his eyes burning into mine.
I opened my mouth. Closed it. Tried again. “I—I…”
“If he’s holding something over you, tell me. I can help you. I’m not just a doctor—I have power to. Influence. You don’t have to go through with this.”
My heart pounded in my ears. Jared had always been intense, but this—this was something else entirely. His desperation, his longing—it terrified me in a way I couldn’t explain.
“Jared,” I said, my voice shaky but firm, “he’s not holding anything over me. I’m doing this of my own free will.”
That was a lie. A painful one. But I couldn’t afford the truth.
He searched my eyes, as if trying to peel away the layers of deception. “You don’t have to lie to me, Ariana. I know you. I see you.”
I looked away, blinking rapidly.
Silence stretched between us like a tightrope.
“Please, Jared,” I whispered. “Just stop. Don’t make this harder than it already is.”
He didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then, quietly, he replied, “You’re right. This isn’t fair to you. But just know—I’m not giving up.”
And with that, he stepped back, his presence finally retreating. But the damage was done.
I stood there, alone in the hallway, heart in my throat, the echo of his words haunting me.
I’m not giving up.
I ran upstairs to my room, ignoring the looks from the staff. As soon as the door shut behind me, I slid down to the floor, my back pressed against the wood.
When did everything get so complicated?
I stayed in that position longer than I realized, my thoughts swirling until exhaustion pulled me under and I fell into a restless sleep.
A sharp, violent sound yanked me awake.
I shot up, wincing at the dull ache in my legs. The sound was coming from the hallway.
Swinging the door open, I gasped.
“Ethan!”
He was doubled over, one hand bracing the wall, the other clutching his chest as he coughed like his lungs were trying to escape.
I ran to his side. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he rasped, swatting my hand away. “Don’t touch me.”
The sting of his words cut deeper than I cared to admit.
“I was just trying to help,” I murmured, pulling my hand back.
He straightened, his breathing heavy. “How was your dress fitting? Did you find something acceptable?”
“Yes… I did.”
“Good.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black pouch. “Here.”
I blinked. “What’s this?”
He opened it, revealing a stunning pearl ring. It was elegant, simple and beautiful.
“I didn’t give you one earlier. The proposal was… rushed.”
I stared at the ring, completely thrown off. “Ethan, I—I don’t know what to say.”
“Do whatever you want with it,” he said flatly, closing the pouch again.
“And one more thing—my mother and sister will arrive tomorrow, ahead of the wedding. Please compose yourself. And try not to stumble.”
He walked away, leaving me flushed and speechless in the hallway.
I walked back into my room, shutting the door quietly behind me, holding the ring close to my heart.
His mother is coming over. I wonder if she’ll like me.
Wait—should I even be thinking about that? This isn’t real. I need to remember that.
Still, the sound of Ethan’s cough echoed in my head. It wasn’t just a regular cough—it sounded deep, painful,he really needs to get that checked .
With a sigh, I headed downstairs to the kitchen. The staff were bustling around, prepping for dinner.
“Good evening, ma’am,” one of the kitchen staff greeted politely, pausing mid-chop.
“Good evening,” I replied with a smile. “Do we have fresh ginger? And honey?”
The maids exchanged glances.
“Yes, ma’am, but if you need anything, we’ll make it for you,” the head maid said quickly, stepping forward.
“No, it’s fine. I’ll do it myself,” I said, walking past them toward the cupboard.
Another maid, a young girl with big eyes, stepped in front of me. “But you’re not supposed to—”
“I know how to make tea,” I cut in gently, but firmly.
They still looked unsure, watching me like I was about to burn the place down.
I rolled up my sleeves and got to work anyway.
I grated the ginger quickly, my hands moving with practiced ease. But in my haste, the grater slipped and nicked my finger. I hissed quietly, pulling back as a small line of blood appeared.
“Oh my God, ma’am!” one of the maids gasped, rushing forward.
“I’m fine,” I said, grabbing a paper towel to press against it. “It’s nothing.”
They stared, wide-eyed, as I calmly bandaged my finger and went right back to preparing the tea.
“She’s… fast,” I heard one of them whisper. “Like she’s done this a thousand times.”
“She probably has,” another replied in a low voice.
Once it was done, I added a few mint leaves for freshness, stirred in honey and lemon, and poured the mixture into a mug. It smelled comforting and strong—just like something my grandma used to make when I was sick.
I paused for a second, staring down at the steam rising from the cup.
He didn’t want me to help him… but maybe he didn’t mean it.
Clutching the mug between my palms, I turned and slowly made my way upstairs.
- Writer
