Never Be MINE

PROLOGUE

Audrey's POV

Life is ironic, isn't it?

You spend years building yourself up, convincing yourself you've moved on, that you're over the past, that nothing can shake you anymore. Then, out of nowhere, the past comes knocking—reminding you that some wounds never truly heal, they just become a part of you.

I'm Audrey Hazen Montefalco. Twenty-four years old. CEO of EJA, an event organizing company I built from scratch. I have everything I once dreamed of—financial stability, independence, a life I control on my own terms.

But success has a funny way of making you feel invincible... until the universe reminds you that some things will always be out of your hands.

It started with a phone call.

I was at the mall, casually browsing through a makeup store, when my phone vibrated inside my bag. The number was unfamiliar.

"Hello?" I answered, half-distracted.

"Is this Audrey Hazen Montefalco?"

The deep, unmistakable voice sent a jolt through me. My breath hitched, and for a moment, I felt frozen in place.

"Yes, may I know who's calling?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"It's Ernesto James Anderson."

James.

The name alone was enough to crack open a door I had sealed shut years ago. Memories rushed back—his laughter echoing in the school hallways, the way he used to glance at me when he thought I wasn't looking, the stolen moments I once convinced myself meant something.

James was my high school classmate. My first love. The one who never became mine.

"James?" I forced a chuckle, trying to sound casual. "Wow, it's been years. What's up?"

"I just wanted to ask if you're free today. I have something to give you."

Something to give me? The uncertainty in his voice sent an odd feeling creeping into my chest.

"Oh, well, I'm at the mall right now," I said, trying not to overthink.

"Perfect. I'm here too. Let's meet at Starbucks?"

"Sure, why not?"

The moment I ended the call, my stomach twisted.

Why now? Why after all these years?

I shook off the nerves and told myself it was nothing. A casual catch-up, maybe. A reunion between old friends.

But deep down, I knew better.

At 7:50 PM, I sat at a corner table in Starbucks, stirring my iced coffee mindlessly. My eyes flickered toward the entrance every few seconds. My heart pounded with an irrational mix of excitement and dread.

Then, I saw him.

James walked in, looking almost the same yet somehow different. His hair was slightly shorter, his build more refined, his posture exuding the same confidence I once admired. But it was his eyes that unsettled me—they carried something I couldn't quite place.

He scanned the room before his gaze landed on me. For a second, our eyes met, and it felt like time had rewound itself. But only for a second.

"Hey, over here," I called out, waving.

James smiled as he walked over, sitting across from me. "It's been a while, Hazen."

Hazen. The nickname only he ever called me.