CHAPTER 287: CHAPTER 287 THE PHOTOGRAPH

The standfirst glared at me, mocking: ‘Ashton Laurent and Lea Lopez at Business Dinner. Romance Confirmed?’

My phone screen glittered with the photo, Ashton seated at a long table, Lea leaning close, a smile curved just so, her hand grazing the stem of her glass as if she were starring in some perfectly staged advert for power couples.

The article went on to describe them as a natural match, old friends with a shared history, equals in ambition and ruthlessness.

A note at the bottom added, almost casually, that Ashton’s ex-girlfriend, a jewellery designer based partly in Paris, had been absent from public view, ‘perhaps laying down roots abroad’.

That last line twisted like a knife.

I forced myself to breathe. This was not the first time I had seen Ashton in the news with another woman.

Rowan Hale had once plastered her smile across the tabloids beside his. That story had been nothing but a manipulation on Rowan’s part, designed to drag him into her spotlight.

I had sworn I would not be fooled again.

But rationale did nothing to stop the hollow ache spreading in my chest.

My hand shook as I set the phone down.

I had broken up with Ashton. I was the one who had looked him in the eye and told him I could not stay. I had no right to feel this way now, not jealous, not mad, not anything. He was free to dine with anyone he pleased. I had handed him that freedom myself.

And yet, the thought of him with her made me feel as if someone had reached inside and torn something loose.

‘What happened?’ Carmen’s voice broke into my spiralling thoughts.

‘Nothing,’ I said.

She leaned over the coffee table and glimpsed my screen. Her gaze flicked to the headline, then back to me. ‘Ah,’ she murmured, her expression darkening. ‘This rubbish again.’

‘I shouldn’t even care,’ I said quickly. ‘I ended things with him. It is not my business.’

‘That may be what you tell yourself, but I know better. You love him. That is why it hurts.’

I looked away.

Carmen reached for my hand. Her grip was firm, almost fierce. ‘Don’t let a photograph make you run. This is still your home. You belong here as much as he does. He would want you to stay.’

I shook my head. ‘I can’t.’ Not like this. Not when he could walk through that door at any moment and see me falling apart. I couldn’t let him see me like this.

Carmen’s voice dropped to a plea. ‘Please. Stay. I will make you tea. I will keep you company. Just don’t leave like a thief in the night.’

I forced a smile, though it wavered. ‘I have something I need to take care of. I will come back. Thank you for everything.’

She looked as though she wanted to argue, but she only sighed and kissed my cheek before letting me go.

The air outside was sharp and cold, as if the city had grown teeth. I walked quickly, head down, not trusting myself to glance back at the house.

By the time I reached Oakwood Apartments, the sky had already darkened. The building loomed, familiar yet strange at the same time. Ashton had bought the entire place once, simply to be near me. He had even taken the flat opposite mine.

I stood in the hallway, my key heavy in my hand. My eyes flicked across the corridor, to the door opposite.

I could still picture him leaning against that doorframe, cool and self-assured, as if he had known from the very beginning how to unravel me.

Just behind that door was the living room where he had first suggested the contract marriage, spoken with the calm certainty of a man who always got what he wanted.

Had it really only been months ago? It felt like another lifetime.

Now the flat would be empty. He would not be here. He had no reason to stay. The thought left me hollow.

I slipped into my apartment and shut the door, but the silence pressed too heavily. I sank onto the sofa, staring at the opposite wall as if I could see straight through it, past plaster and paint and locked doors, into the ghost of what had been.

My phone buzzed. Another notification. People were reacting fast. Some dismissed the story, but plenty were already offering their congratulations.

My chest ached, yet I could not stop. I scrolled on, punishing myself with every swipe of my thumb. Hoping.

Hoping for what? For Ashton to release a statement denying it all? To declare that there was nothing between him and Lea?

The photo might have been staged, or it could have been nothing more than a business dinner, but I had seen them together on that cruise ship with my own eyes. No headline could erase that.

And yet he had come after me when I went on that reckless diving trip. He had risked his life. On that island, when everything else had failed, he had been my anchor.

That had to mean something, didn’t it?

I flung my phone aside and buried my face in a pillow with a groan.

Endless analysis would drive me mad. There was only one way to silence the questions clawing through me.

I had to see him, to talk to him. Even if it was the last time, I needed to know.

To know if there was still a chance for us.