***
Kayla's pov
***
For a second, the world stopped moving.
We just stood there—staring. The same man from the rain, standing inches away, his eyes a storm I didn't know how to escape.
Before I could stop myself, I blurted, "You again?"
He blinked, the corner of his lips twitching. "You're the one who threw a stone at my car."
"And now you crashed your ice cream into me and ruined my dress," he added.
"You once ruined my dress too," I shot back, rolling my eyes. "At least mine isn't oil, just ice cream."
He raised a brow. "So you aren't going to take responsibility for my jacket?"
"No, I won't," I folded my arms. "I think we're even now."
"Even?" he scoffed, his tone sharp with disbelief. He looked frustrated, but somehow, I liked that expression on him.
"What are you going to do about my car then?" he asked.
"Nothing," I said, locking eyes with him. "That's what you get for not apologizing and being rude that day."
He scoffed again, clearly running out of words.
"If that's all, mister," I said, stepping back, "I'd like to take my leave—and I hope to never cross paths with you again."
I turned, opened the door, and walked out, leaving him speechless behind me.
"Kayla! Over here!" Skye waved from across the store.
"Sorry I'm late," I said, dropping into the seat beside her.
"It's fine," she smiled, then looked at the mess on my dress.
"The ice cream's a long story," I sighed. "I promise to get it right next time."
"Okay then." She smiled again and brought out her cello, letting the first soft notes fill the room.
I wasn't listening. My mind was somewhere else.
Did I go too far by throwing that stone? I bit my fingernails.
He hasn't even repaired his car. Why am I feeling guilty when it's not my fault?
"Did I overreact?" I whispered under my breath.
"Kayla, are you okay?" Skye touched my arm, snapping me back to reality. "You weren't listening to a single thing I said."
"Sorry," I muttered. "What did you say?"
She narrowed her eyes. "Come and play."
I sat down, gripping the bow in my hand. The moment I touched the string, his face flashed in my mind again—and guilt hit me like a wave.
"Sh*t," I muttered, running my hand through my hair. "I'm going crazy."
I took a deep breath, balanced the bow to the string, and closed my eyes, letting the melody absorb me—hoping it would drown the storm inside my chest.
***
Logan's POV
***
I sat at one corner of the music store, head leaning back, trying to get some rest. Then I heard it again—
that sound.
The familiar tone of a cello.
Same rhythm.
Same sensations.
My heart recognized it before my mind did.
I searched the store like I was looking for treasure, following the melody until I saw an open space.
And there she was.
Eyes closed.
Fingers dancing on the strings.
Completely lost in her own world.
I stood there, silently admiring her from behind until the last note faded.
"That was awesome, Kayla," the girl beside her said.
"Thanks, Skye. That's one of my favorite songs to play," she replied, smiling.
I froze.
That voice.
That name.
My mouth fell open.
The same girl who ruined my car and jacket… was the same one playing the cello.
"Kayla…" I whispered softly.
I waited by the entrance of the store, not even sure why I was waiting. Maybe curiosity. Maybe something else.
Then she started walking toward the door, still smiling. And I'll admit—she looked breathtaking.
As she pushed the door open and stepped out, something in me moved before my brain could stop it.
"Kayla!" I called.
I immediately covered my mouth.
F**k! Why did I call her?!
She turned, surprise written all over her face.
"Mister? Did you just address me by my name?" she asked, walking closer.
"Well, uh—you play so well," I stammered. "The cello… in the store."
"Oh, thanks," she chuckled lightly. "But I get that a lot."
Her laugh—soft, genuine—made something inside me go still.
"Don't tell me you're being proud," I teased, smirking.
"I think I deserve to," she said, slipping her phone from her pocket as it buzzed.
"I'm running late again."
Before I could say another word, she smiled. "Bye."
And just like that, she ran off to catch the bus—
leaving me standing there, watching her disappear.
***
Author's POV
***
The Chairwoman sat on the sofa, a newspaper in hand, her expression unreadable.
Logan stepped out of his room and headed to the dining area for a glass of water.
"Vienna wants to postpone the wedding," the Chairwoman said without looking up.
Logan swallowed, lowering the glass. "She said she has some business to handle, and our marriage would obstruct that."
"And you agreed?"
"Yes, mom," he replied carefully. "We both know Vienna is business-minded. She'll do anything to get what she wants."
"Don't you dare call me mom," she snapped, dropping the newspaper to the floor.
"I—I'm sorry, Chairwoman." Logan bowed slightly.
"Is there anything you can do right?" she hissed, eyes burning. "Make sure this marriage works out. I don't care how you do it"
She moved past him, but Logan reached out, gently holding her hand.
"I don't want to marry Vienna."
She froze. "What did you just say?"
He dropped to his knees, holding her hands tightly. "Please. I'll do anything else you ask of me, but I don't want to marry her. I won't be happy with her."
"Happy?" She laughed coldly.
"Do you think you deserve to be happy after what you've done?" Her voice cracked like thunder.
He looked up, his face pale. "mom—"
"You can never be happy after killing my daughter!" she screamed, pulling her hands away and storming out of the room.
Logan stayed frozen, the echo of her words slicing through the silence like glass.