(Ethan's POV)
The urgency in Liam's voice, the raw fear in his eyes, it had triggered a primal instinct within me. I needed to stop Isabella, to shield Claire from the pain of my past. I needed to fix this.
I found Isabella in the lobby, her voice loud, her words laced with a calculated venom. She was surrounded by a small group of employees, their expressions a mixture of shock and morbid curiosity.
"Isabella," I said, my voice tight, my eyes filled with a raw anger. "Stop this."
"Stop what, Ethan?" she asked, her voice laced with a cruel amusement. "Telling the truth?"
"It's none of their business," I said, my voice low, my anger simmering beneath the surface. "It's none of your business."
"It's my business when you're pretending to be someone you're not," she countered, her voice sharp, her eyes flashing. "When you're hurting someone I...care about."
The words were a calculated blow, a reminder of the pain I'd caused, the trust I'd broken.
"You don't care about anyone but yourself," I said, my voice rough, my anger reaching a boiling point. "Leave, Isabella. Now."
"Not until you admit it," she said, her voice laced with a cruel satisfaction. "Not until you admit that you're still afraid. Still running."
The words were a gauntlet thrown down, a challenge I couldn't ignore. I wanted to deny it, to erase the past, but I couldn't lie. Not anymore.
"Fine," I said, my voice barely audible, my vulnerability laid bare. "I'm afraid. I'm afraid of losing her. I'm afraid of repeating the past. But I'm trying, Isabella. I'm trying to be better."
The confession hung in the air, a raw, honest admission of my fears. The silence that followed was heavy, charged with unspoken emotions.
"Then prove it, Ethan," she said, her voice soft, her eyes filled with a desperate plea. "Prove that you're not the man I left behind."
I turned to leave, my movements urgent, my heart pounding in my chest. I needed to find Claire, to explain everything, to erase the doubts that threatened to pull us apart.
But she was gone.
Her office was empty, her belongings missing. A cold dread settled over me, a raw, primal fear that I'd lost her.
I called her phone, my heart pounding in my chest, my mind racing with unanswered questions. She didn't answer.
I drove to her apartment, my hands gripping the steering wheel, my knuckles white. The apartment was empty, the silence echoing the emptiness within me.
She was gone.
(Claire's POV)
The conversation I overheard, the words Ethan spoke, they were a confirmation of my deepest fears. He was choosing her, he was choosing the past, he was choosing business over me.
The betrayal, the hurt, the raw, undeniable pain—it was almost unbearable. I felt a wave of despair wash over me, a raw, primal fear that I was losing him.
I couldn't stay. I couldn't watch him choose her, watch him repeat the past. I couldn't be second place, not again.
I packed a bag, my movements stiff and mechanical, my heart aching with a familiar pain. I'd opened myself up to him, trusted him, believed in him. And he'd shattered my trust, just like before.
I left my apartment, the silence echoing the emptiness within me. I drove away, the city lights blurring into a meaningless landscape.
I needed to escape, to rebuild the walls I'd so recklessly torn down. I needed to find a place where I could heal, where I could forget.
I drove to a small coastal town, a place where the ocean met the sky, a place where I could find solace in the vastness of the horizon.
I rented a small cottage by the beach, a place of solitude, a place where I could be alone with my thoughts. The silence was deafening, a constant reminder of his absence.
I spent my days walking along the beach, the sand cool beneath my feet, the waves a soothing rhythm against the silence. I watched the sun rise and set, the vibrant colors a stark contrast to the darkness within me.
I thought about Ethan, about his confession, about his fears. I thought about Isabella, about her calculated charm, about the past that haunted him.
I thought about us, about the fragile hope we'd tried to build, about the love we'd tried to embrace. And I wondered if it was all a lie, a fleeting moment of weakness, a desperate attempt to escape the past.
I waited for him to call, for him to come after me, for him to prove that he was choosing me. But he didn't.
The silence grew, the distance stretched, and the hope dwindled. And I knew, with a raw, undeniable certainty, that it was over. He had made his choice. And I had made mine. I was gone.