Chapter 21: Chapter XXI: Left behind

She stepped onto the tarmac, flanked by two of Callum’s security men. Silent. Impersonal. Efficient. Just like the decision he made last night.

To send her away.

The word echoed like a rejection she hadn’t prepared for.

The jet ride back to Manhattan was quiet. Too quiet.

She didn’t ask for anything. Didn’t scroll through her phone. Instead, she stared absent-mindedly out the window as the clouds rolled beneath her, her reflection a ghost in the glass.

Her thoughts refused to stay still.

Had she misunderstood him? Had the kiss meant something only to her? Or had he simply used her as a tool—polished and prepared to soften his image, and then discarded when she became too complicated?

The seatbelt light pinged softly as they began their descent. Her stomach flipped—not from turbulence, but from the realization that she didn’t belong here.

Not with him.

The private jet touched down just as the sun broke through the clouds, streaking the Manhattan skyline with defiant gold.

She sat stiffly in the back seat of the black SUV as the city blurred by. A thousand memories ran through her mind as she watched the city with her face pressed against the windows—her arrival here months ago, the long nights working double shifts and days spent searching for a proper job, and the uncertain hope she’d held when Callum first offered her an escape.

And now she was back where she started, but nothing felt the same.

When the car pulled up to the apartment she assumed was Callum’s, Ariana nodded politely at the guards,got down and was escorted into the elevator. She stepped into the elevator in silence. The air inside was cold, different. Impersonal.

"Ma'am, we've been asked to give you a quick tour of the penthouse so you can decide where you would like to stay. An assistant would also be coming to attend to whatever you may need." One of the security guards said to Ariana.

"Alright, thank you." Ariana replied politely, offering a smile that did not reach her eyes.

She followed behind them but her mind was far from being interested in the beautifully decorated apartment. Everything screamed luxury. She hurriedly picked the room with the view facing the city. She needed them to leave.

She didn’t want them to see her to fall apart.

The moment the guards left and the door clicked shut behind her, Ariana dropped her bags and leaned back against the wall, covering her mouth with her hand.

Then it hit her.

The tears she had held in during the flight, the tension she had masked behind quiet nods, the pain she had swallowed.

The silence screamed.

She replayed the last few days like a film that skipped frames: the heat of his kiss, the way he touched her like she mattered, the small, silent moments where it felt like something real was blooming between them.

And then he shut it all down.

No explanation. No warning. Just distance.

Why would he send her away now?

Was it regret? Guilt? Or had she let herself believe that maybe he did care about her?

She brushed at the tears on her cheek angrily. “God, get it together,” she whispered.

Her phone buzzed beside her, and for a second, her heart leapt. Callum?

No.

It was a message from her sister’s doctor about the surgery schedule. Ariana replied numbly. She should have felt relief—hope, even—but the moment was too fractured to hold joy.

She walked slowly into the bedroom she had chosen and sat down on the edge of the bed. All the rooms were unfamiliar. Clean. Stylish. But utterly devoid of warmth.

Her fingers hovered over Callum’s name in her messages.

She wanted to text him.

To ask him why.

To tell him he could’ve just said goodbye.

But she didn’t. Instead, she whispered into the stillness, “You didn’t even check on me this morning.”

Her mind swirled with questions she couldn’t ask him. Was he protecting her… or pushing her away? Did he regret everything? Or was he breaking things off without saying the words?

And the worst question of all: Did she mean nothing to him, after everything they’d been through?

Ariana’s eyes fluttered shut, the ache in her chest a low, hollow throb.

The tears came soundlessly this time, streaking down her cheeks as she curled onto the bed. There was no one left to see her break. No more pretending she wasn’t shattered.

Ariana pulled the blanket over herself like armor, blinking through the blur of pain.

She didn’t know how to stop caring and she wasn’t sure she wanted to.

She wasn’t going to call him.

If he cared about her at all he would call her first.

She was going to let him feel what it’s like to be the one left behind.