We broke up in my final year of college. He got too intense, too controlling, and I had to break free to focus on myself, to focus on my future. I thought I loved Jason at the time. I really did. But now? The feelings I have for Lukin make everything with Jason seem so… childish, so insignificant.
I shouldn’t even be thinking about Jason. But here he is again, pulling me out of my thoughts, reminding me of a past I’m trying to leave behind.
I let the phone ring a couple more times, hoping it’ll stop on its own, but it doesn’t.
With a sigh, I swipe the screen to answer. “Jason,” I say, my voice flat, trying to keep the annoyance out of it.
“Zoe, hey,” he says, his voice warm, familiar—too familiar. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you. I miss you. We need to talk.”
I wince, the words hitting me with a mix of guilt and frustration. “We don’t need to talk, Jason. I told you before, it’s over.”
There’s a pause on the other end, a slight crack in his tone before he continues. “But, Zoe, I’ve been thinking about it. What happened between us can easily be corrected. Let’s not throw away something good for a minor character flaw. We should—”
“I’m not interested in going back, Jason,” I state, voice firm, though a little softer than I mean it to be. “There’s no future for us. We’re not the same people we were when we dated. You’re not the one I need in my life.”
I can hear the quiet on the other end as my words sink in. It’s the truth. I’ve moved on. I thought I’d always love him, but that was before everything with Lukin. Before I understood what it really meant to be desired, to have someone like that look at you like you were the only thing that mattered. Well, it’s not like I want Lukin in my life either. He’s just a reference point. I’d rather take Jason back than let him touch me again.
Jason sighs, and I can almost hear the disappointment in his breath. “I don’t get it. I still want you, Zoe. I’ve never stopped. Why are you shutting me out?”
“I’m not shutting you out,” I say, struggling to keep the guilt from creeping into my voice. “I just… I can’t do this with you anymore.”
His silence speaks volumes, but I don’t let it get to me. I’m not going back. Not to him. Not to anyone. I need to build my life and make a name for myself. Men are not my priority right now.
“Okay. Fine. But can we see? Even if it’s just for the last time. I miss you. We can even be friends.”
I contemplate this for a second and then sigh. “Okay, fine. I’ll let you know when I’m free to hang out.”
I hang up the phone before he can say any more.
The thoughts of Lukin continue to swirl in my mind, an endless cycle of confusion, desire, and guilt that I can’t escape. The memory of him, his hands, his eyes, his voice, haunts me every second of the day. I try to focus, try to lose myself in the designs I’m working on, but the distraction doesn’t stop, even after I finish for the evening.
I leave the store that night, locking up behind me, but even the walk home does little to calm the storm inside me. The city is buzzing around me, people passing by in a blur, but I’m stuck in my own world, trapped in the aftermath of that moment, that connection.
When I arrive at my apartment, the first thing I notice is the bouquet waiting outside my door for me. The sight of it sends a chill through my bones. Black orchids. Their dark beauty is so striking, so haunting that it almost feels like a message in itself.
No name. No note. Just the chilling elegance of it.
My heart skips a beat as I glance around, half expecting someone to be there, but the apartment is empty, silent. I can’t shake the feeling that something’s off, so I head back to the lobby. The doorman, Mr. Wolfe, is still at his desk, flipping through a magazine. His eyes flicker up when he sees me approach.
“Miss Monroe,” he greets, smiling. “Do you need anything?”
“Uh, no.” I smile back. “Can you tell me who dropped off the flowers for me earlier? The black orchids?”
He grins. “A man in a suit dropped them off. Didn’t say anything. Just handed them to me, told me to leave them at your door and left.” He shrugged. “Do we have a secret admirer?”
My mind flashes to him—Lukin. Of course. Who else would it be? This isn’t a secret admirer.
I force myself to nod, my lips tight as I suppress the urge to ask more. “There’s no secrets admirer, Mr. Wolfe,” I say, forcing a laugh. “Good night.”
I hurry into the hall and back to my apartment. The fact that it’s anonymous, the dark, haunting beauty of the flowers, the way it feels like a warning—this is not over—it all screams his name.
When I reach my door, I pick up the bouquet and trash it in the bin down the hallway.Take that!I tell myself it’s the right choice, that I don’t need this in my life. I don’t need him.
He’s Maria’s father, I remind myself again, just like I have a hundred times in the past few days. I can’t afford to let my feelings for him complicate everything. I can’t let him destroy the friendship I have with Maria. That’s not something I’m willing to risk, no matter how hot, sexy, and intense he is.
I can’t afford to let him in.
But the truth is, the longer I think about it, the more I realize I’m lying to myself. Because a part of me wants him.
