Chapter 4
579 Words
Zara’s footsteps echoed through the marble corridor long after she left Adrian behind.
She hated that her hands still trembled. That her stomach still tightened at the sound of his voice. That her heart hadn’t learned its lesson.
Five years.
One broken heart.
No answers.
And now he was back. Acting like he could hire her, like money could fix what he shattered.
But worse than that...
Worse than the cold betrayal...
Was the way her soul still leaned toward him like a flower to sunlight.
That Night.....
Her apartment was quiet. Too quiet.
Noah was at the dialysis clinic, and the silence filled with thoughts she’d buried long ago.
Zara tried to sketch the mural.
Instead, her pencil betrayed her—forming his jawline, the curve of his lips, the eyes that once studied her like scripture.
She tore the page out. Crumpled it.
Then did it again.
And again.
Next Morning – At the Resort
She arrived early, her resolve hardening.
No distractions. No feelings. No Adrian.
He greeted her with cool politeness. “You’re early.”
“I’m here for the wall,” she replied. “Not conversation.”
But Adrian followed her as she examined the lighting angles and spatial depth, like he couldn’t help being near her. Like he needed it.
“There are things I wish I could explain,” he said suddenly. “But if I did… I don’t think you’d believe me.”
“Try me,” she said without looking at him.
He didn’t answer.
Silence spoke louder.
Flashback Fragment (Zara’s POV)
A warm night in London.
They sat on the rooftop, eating cold bread and cheese, watching planes disappear into the dark sky.
Adrian whispered, “One day, I’ll buy you a gallery. No more starving artist stories.”
She smiled. “I don’t need your money. Just you.”
She blinked, pulled back to the present, her throat tightened.
That promise. Another broken thing between them.
She straightened her back and began to make notes for the mural paintings, the materials she would need. Shutting every noise out, to focus on the one thing that gave her peace.
A voice—sharp, smooth, and calculated—cut into the moment.
“Well, this must be the artist.”
Zara turned.
She was tall, elegant, in a white jumpsuit that looked expensive and effortless. Skin like smooth bronze, hair slicked into a perfect bun. No flaw in sight.
“Zara, this is Vanessa, My Secretary.” Adrian said, tension threading his voice. The woman hugged him tightly and kissed him ferociously.
“Vanessa Lennox,” the woman corrected, extending a manicured hand. “Adrian’s fiancée.”
Zara didn’t blink. “Nice to meet you.”
“Oh, I’ve heard so much about you,” Vanessa said sweetly. “Mostly in the context of... unfinished business.”
Zara smiled. “I find that unfinished business is usually none of yours.”
Vanessa’s eyes flashed.
Adrian stepped in quickly. “Vanessa, can we talk—”
“No,” Vanessa said, eyes still on Zara. “I think I’d like to watch her work. I want to see what makes her so... unforgettable.”
Zara turned back to her mural wall, lips tightening.
Vanessa leaned in close, her voice a breath against Zara’s ear.
“He didn’t choose you then. He won’t choose you now.”
Zara didn’t flinch.
But inside, her chest cracked.
And Adrian...
He said nothing.
- Writer
