Chapter 69: Goodbye Aria

She messaged Brad, accepting him, her heart filled with excitement, eagerly anticipating his immediate response. However, as the minutes ticked by without a reply, her enthusiasm began to wane.

Throughout the day, she couldn't help but repeatedly check her phone, hoping for a response that never arrived. Perplexed and anxious, she reviewed her message, confirming that it had been delivered and seen.

Doubts slowly crept in.

Had Brad changed his mind?

Did she take too long to respond to his advances?

These questions swirled in her mind, testing her pride. She had always waited for men to make the first move, but now, she pushed aside her pride and dialed his number.

The call went straight to voicemail. Panic momentarily gripped her, but then a sense of relief washed over her as she surmised that his phone was likely switched off, explaining his lack of response.

However, the following day brought no response either. Worry began to gnaw at her, not just about Brad's safety, but also about the life-altering decision she had made to leave Adrian.

Doubt and fear clouded her thoughts, leaving her in a state of uncertainty and unease.

After classes, in the evening, she frantically dialed his number, only to be met with the disheartening message that the number was no longer in service. She stared at her phone in disbelief. Not only had her messages failed to deliver, but an error message also declared, 'Phone number not found.'

Determined to find any trace of Brad, she turned to her laptop, hoping to check his social media profiles. To her astonishment, she discovered that all of his accounts had been deactivated across various platforms.

She went through countless profiles associated with the Brad Newton name, but none of them seemed to belong to him.

Aria considered doing a web image search of him but realized she didn't even have a picture to start with.

Desperate for answers, she took to the internet and delved deeper into the Newton family's history and discovered that there was no record of a Brad Newton among their children. The only male member was a fifty-five-year-old Walter Newton, and he had only daughters.

A chilling realization washed over her.

"This can't be real," she whispered to herself in disbelief. "What kind of cruel joke is this?"

Where was Brad?

Who was Brad?

It was as though he had vanished into thin air. It wasn't possible for him to be a ghost; Lara had seen and spoken with him too. Yet, there seemed to be no trace, no lead that could unravel the mystery of Brad's existence.

She had been deceived, but she couldn't pinpoint by whom or for what purpose. The result was that she had lost Adrian, the one truly good thing in her life.

In her anguish, she let out a scream of pain, wrapping her arms around herself for comfort. She grabbed the painting he had gifted her from the art gallery and shattered it into pieces.

It was the only connection left between them, and she wished she could do the same to the memory of him.

She felt a sharp ache in her chest, or perhaps it was all in her mind. She couldn't muster the appetite to eat or even climb into her bed. Instead, she curled up on the floor, shivering and sobbing, unable to control the various directions of her pain.

Was she mourning the loss of the fantasy life she had envisioned with Brad, or was it the profound affection from Adrian that she had let slip through her fingers?

She remained in that tormented state until the gentle hands of sleep finally touched her.

The following day, she awoke to a knock on the door, greeted by a headache from crying too much the night before.

The first thought that came to her head was to meet with Adrian and beg for his forgiveness, even if it meant groveling.

With this thought in her mind, she approached the door and opened it to reveal the person on the other side.

To her surprise, it was the delivery man who had brought Adrian's gifts. He brought with him the arrangement of exotic flowers that Adrian had sent.

"He misses me," she thought, managing a smile as she reached out to collect the flowers.

"Rough night?" the delivery man inquired, observing her disheveled state. She gave him a wary look but accepted the flowers.

Returning inside, feeling happy, a ray of light, of hope, shining on her and lighting up her world. Sitting down in a chair, she carefully placed the flowers on the coffee table, eager to read the message that accompanied them.

Her heart sank as she read the brief message on the card.

'Goodbye, Aria.'

She almost fainted, fresh tears streaming down her face.