Second Love [Completed]

8. Unfortunately

Çağatay Ulusoy as Xavier Williams I hope I made right choice there is a change in caste go through it

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Susan's P.O.V.

Yesterday was, unfortunately, unforgettable. I spent sometime with Adrian before leaving for airport, trying to understand the distance that had grown between us.

"Susan, you have to understand," Adrian sighed, rubbing his temples. "The company's owner is retiring, and his son—Xavier Williams—is taking over. The guy's a machine, a complete workaholic. He's raising salaries, but he expects complete dedication in return. There's no room for distractions."

I folded my arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. "And by distractions, you mean me, don't you?"

He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "That's not what I'm saying. But this job... I can't afford to mess this up. If I slack off, I lose everything."

I let out a slow breath, feeling the familiar ache of disappointment settle in my chest. "And we both know what happens if you lose this job."

His expression darkened. "Your dad will use it as proof that I can't take care of you. That I was never good enough. And not just him—my own family is waiting for us to fail."

I hated that he was right. Our relationship had always been a battle against outside forces, both of us constantly proving we were strong enough to stay together. But lately, it felt like I was the only one still fighting.

"So what do we do?" I asked, my voice quieter now. "Just keep pretending everything is fine? Keep pretending like this—us—hasn't already changed?"

Adrian looked at me, and for the first time in a long time, he had no answer. "I don't know, Susan. But I can't risk losing this job. Things will change Susan for better, I'll try I promise."

And that was it. That was the moment I realized we had already lost so much more than just time together. Before I even walked away, a part of us had already unraveled.

Leaving Adrian felt like stepping into the unknown. The weight of our last conversation still lingered, replaying in my mind no matter how much I tried to push it away. I kept telling myself this trip was for me—to clear my head, to figure out what I truly wanted. But deep down, I knew I was also running from the reality of what my relationship had become.

Now, here I am, in Aspen, with Lisa practically bouncing with excitement beside me as we pull up to the luxurious ski resort.

The moment I mentioned the trip, my dad made all the arrangements. First-class flights, a luxury suite, everything planned out to perfection. He always does this whenever I travel without Adrian—a silent statement, a reminder that he never thought Adrian was good enough. It wasn't just about the money—he wanted me to see the life I could have if I let go of the things holding me back. And while I'd always resented that mindset, a small, unwelcome part of me wondered: was he right?

I exhale, pushing the thought away. No. That's not what this trip is about.

Lisa, of course, was thrilled at the idea of a snowy getaway. To her, this was another adventure, a chance to indulge and forget responsibilities. But for me, it was supposed to be more than just a vacation. It was an escape—from expectations, from disappointment, from the version of myself that kept making excuses for why things hadn't changed.

"Susan, look! We're here! This place is unreal!" Lisa practically squeals, pressing her hands to the car window.

I push my sunglasses up, taking in the stunning view. Snow blankets the ground in a perfect, untouched sheet. The towering evergreens dusted with white make the resort look like something out of a movie. Skiers move gracefully down the slopes in the distance, and the scent of pine and crisp mountain air fills my lungs.