Dorian dropped me off before his meeting, and the moment the door clicks shut behind me, the quiet feels almost unreal.
I set my phone down, then pick it back up, typing a quick message to Alexandra.
Sorelina, I told Dorian. There is light at the end of the tunnel. I feel happy after so long. I’ll call you later to tell you everything.
And then to Jane.
Dear Jane, I’m happy to say... I'll stay some more. :) Will call you to meet up. XO.
Send. A promise kept.
I slip into a fitted navy blue dress for the office, slide on heels, and lean toward the mirror. My reflection studies me as though I’m someone new. I trace red lipstick over my lips—bold, certain. My eyes look different. Softer maybe. Or stronger. Perhaps both.
“This should have been the last day in Chicago,” I whisper to my reflection in the mirror, “but it feels like the first of a totally different future.”
My fingers rise to the ruby at my throat, resting against my heart. Its weight is reassuring, anchoring me in this fragile certainty—I feel like I belong again. Safe. Loved.
I grab my purse and head downstairs.
Adriana is already at a window table; a coffee cup cradled in her hands. She spots me, her eyes widening, lips curving into a grin.
“You look… different, Della! Good different!”
Heat floods my cheeks. I smile. “Morning. I do?”
“Thank you for letting me know you were alive, by the way,” she teases, though there’s relief in her voice. “I was really worried when you disappearedand kept pestering Greg for updates. Only when you messaged me, I finally relaxed.”
“Thank you, Adriana.” My voice softens with real gratitude. “Thank you, for watching over me.”
She narrows her eyes, setting her cup down with a decisive little clink.
“Yeah, yeah. Now spill. And don’t you dare feed me that ‘someone I met five years ago’ line again. I wantallof it. What’s the story with Dorian Marshall?”
Her curiosity makes me smile.
“Dorian is… a lot more than I can explain over breakfast. He’s the only man I’ve ever truly, completely, madly loved. He was my everything and for five years I thought there was nothing left of him, or us. The last few days we talked a lot, and while there are still some things of the past that we need to work out, we decided to give future a shot.”
Her eyes widen. She leans closer, eager, but I take her hand first.
“That’s why I wanted to talk to you this morning. I’m not flying back home with you tonight. I’m staying.”
Her face freezes in surprise before breaking into a wide, luminous smile.
“I am happy for you, Della. Sad for me—flying alone—but so happy for you. You deserve this.”
Emotion swells, blurring my vision as I lean in and hug her tightly.
She squeezes back, and for the first time in years, I let myself believe happiness is possible again.
We linger over breakfast, trading small jokes and plans, until it’s time to head to the office.
* * *
My phone buzzes with Dorian’s message.
Dinner. 7 p.m., Boka’s. No desnudo dinner, this time.
Clothes are mandatory, Love. ??
