𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐄

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐈𝐗

HER

The moment I stepped inside the penthouse, silence wrapped around me like a drug I couldn’t get out of my system. It was suffocating. I didn’t bother turning the lights on. I dropped my coat, and it landed in a heap, but I didn’t care.

Every step echoed too loudly, like the space had grown bigger in her absence.

Teagan.

Her name hit me the moment I welcomed the silence in. I walked past the glass of wine I’d left out earlier, untouched. I’ve been foolish enough to think she would remember me.

The lights from the city below spilled in through the glass — cold, nothing like the warm memory I’ve been carrying of her for five years.

Five years.

Five years of rehearsing what I would say, and she returned just in time to let my brother introduce her as his wife.

The worst part, Dacre never hesitated. He said her name like she belonged to him, like it always had. Dacre had always been so selfish. She stood there beside him — smiling, calm. A stranger wearing the face of the woman I love more than life itself.

I made it to the couch, and sank down, elbows on my knees, my hands hanging limp. My head dropped.

My shoulders shook as I sobbed, covering my face with my palms, hoping that would stop it. I cried fully, helplessly, like I hadn’t let myself do in years.

This wasn’t guilt. It wasn’t just regret.

It was loss.

I wasn’t the one who found her first. I know I should’ve said something. Anything.

I miss her. I missed hearing her voice. I miss the way she’d hum off-key whenever I played the piano just to annoy me. I missed her head on my shoulders when the world finally slowed down.

I missed who I was when I’m with her — lighter, warmer... human.

I looked around the penthouse, and I hated how almost perfect everything looked. The success I’d built, the money I’ve earned, and the view — none of it mattered.

“I’m sorry.” My voice cracked as I whispered those words. I don’t even know who I was saying it to. God, maybe, or the version of Teagan that still lived in my memory. Teagan, the woman who looked at me like I was worth loving.

“I thought I had more time with you, Teagan.” My throat tightened. The tears came rapidly. I didn’t even try to stop them. They slipped down, cutting through five years of longing I’ve refused to let go of.

“I should’ve told you.”

I wonder what it would’ve changed. If I told her I loved her. If I hadn’t waited for the right time... would she have been mine? Would she remember me?

The night moved on without Teagan, and I stayed right where she left me, right where I had my last night with her — alone in the dark, surrounded by all the things I built, but without her that ever made any of it mean something.

—

The scent of roasted coffee lingered in the kitchen, drifting between warm toast, scrambled eggs, and silverware against porcelain.

“Sebastian brought a woman with him last night, and she couldn’t stop talking about vintage safes. I thought that was a weird way to flirt with someone.”

I laughed, lifting the mug to my lips. “She restores them. European ones, from the early 1900s. The kind you see in spy movies. You’d like her, she’s sharp.”