But then he left, and that belief shattered.
I tightened my grip on the edge of the fabric, the same dress I clung to that night when I thought my dreams were just beginning. I let myself feel like it mattered. And he knew it, knew how much I’d poured into that design, into him, only to be left picking up the remains alone.
You know it’s never been about the money.
The thing was, Ididknow. He had plenty of it, enough to last a lifetime, and that terrified me because even after everything, some foolish part of me still wanted to believe him. I wanted to think he could be the man I’d once dreamed he was, but I couldn’t let myself fall for words that felt as hollow as the echoes in my heart. He doesn’t get to walk back into the light because he finally decided he missed it.
Somewhere beneath the resentment and anger… I hated that there was a whisper in me, soft but steady, hoping he’d actually stay.
Could I even trust my own emotions after so long?
His question lingered like a specter in my thoughts:“Is there really no hope?”
The truth was, I didn’t know.What could cause more hope?
We were tucked away in a hidden corner of Parco Sempione, the sun filtering through the trees in patches of gold dancing across Ronan’s face. He pulled me down onto a soft patch of grass, away from the crowded paths, claiming it as ‘ours’ with that playful grin of his. I could hear the faint hum of city noise around us, but it felt distant, like we’d slipped into our own world for a little while.
He reached into his bag and handed me a worn notebook, its cover creased and edges frayed. His gaze was tender, and it made my chest ache.
I flipped open the cover, and my breath hitched. Page after page was filled with notes and sketches about me. Tiny, fleeting details I barely remembered but he’d somehow capturedperfectly. My clumsy attempts at cooking, the way my nose crinkled when I laughed too hard, even the half-baked dream I had of designing a house overlooking the ocean. Every line, every smudge of ink felt like a piece of me he’d preserved.
“You kept this?” I whispered, hardly believing it.
He only nodded, a smile playing on his lips. “I’ve been writing things down since the day we met, Nina. I wanted to remember everything about you.” He paused, his hand coming to rest over mine on the notebook. “This is my way of keeping you close when I’m in the city, and you’re here.”
For a moment, I couldn’t speak, and I let his words settle over me. I knew Ronan loved me, but this… this was a devotion I hadn’t fully understood until then. When he leaned in, pressing his lips softly to my forehead, the world seemed to fall away. It was only us, and I could almost believe we’d stay like that forever.
I stood in my studio, surrounded by sketches and fabric swatches, the remnants of creativity that had propelled me to this point.
Inaya bustled beside me, her voice a constant hum of organization and efficiency. “Nina,VogueItaliacalled again. They want to finalize the shoot details for next week.”
I nodded absentmindedly, my thoughts consumed by memories that had resurfaced like ghosts from the past.
“Inaya,” I began, my voice barely above a whisper, “Next month.”
Inaya’s eyes widened in surprise. “Isn’t that a bit far?”
I shook my head, a lump forming in my throat. “Is it?”
She studied me intently, her expression softening with understanding. “Is everything okay?”
I hesitated, torn between the urge to confide in her and the instinct to protect myself from the vulnerability threatening to engulf me. “It’s complicated, Inaya. But I…need some time.”
She nodded slowly, her gaze shadowed with concern. “So you saw him afterward?”
I swallowed, the words dragging over jagged edges. “Before, during, and after.”
She exhaled. “Now that he’s here, right in front of you… How does it make you feel?”
I forced a laugh, brittle and hollow, my fingers pressing into my temple as if I could massage out the ache. “I don’t even know. Angry? Confused? It was hard enough seeing him at a distance, but being face-to-face again… It’s like reopening a wound that barely healed.”
I nodded, feeling raw, the energy drained from me like a wilted leaf. “Can we talk later? Right now… I need to be alone.”
Her hand found my shoulder, grounding me with its warmth. “Of course. Call me anytime, okay?”
“Yeah.” My voice was a whisper, the word crumbling like an exhausted sigh.
She left the room, and I sank into a chair, the strain of my emotions crashing over me like a tidal wave. Success had never felt so hollow. The anguish in my chest was a continuous reminder of the void Ronan had left behind.
