The week unfolded with an unusual stillness—almost too still.
Arriella immersed herself in her work, her plans, and her thoughts, seeking anything that would keep her anchored. She had set aside the pain of her family for the moment, knowing that visiting day was approaching, and she would find her voice then.
Jordan.
He had slipped from her mind—at least, she had tucked his memory away, where it no longer stirred her emotions. He had become a closed chapter, a lesson learned, a name that was now distant.
So, when she spotted him outside the small store near her hostel, leaning against the wall as if waiting for a miracle, she instinctively slowed her pace.
He seemed changed—not in looks but in the desperation that lingered in his eyes.
"Arriella," he called out quickly, as if fearing she might walk away. "Please… can you just hear me out?"
Taking a deep breath, she realized she had the power to walk away. She had grown stronger.
But strength didn't equate to silence.
So, she paused.
Jordan took a hesitant step closer. "I know I messed up. I know I hurt you. But I swear—I never stopped loving you."
She maintained her composure, her expression calm and unwavering.
He pressed on, his words spilling forth in a rush: "I just… I wanted a better life for myself. I was confused. I thought I needed to focus on money, success—everything. I believed leaving would solve my problems. But it didn't. You're in my thoughts every single day. I want us to start again—even if it's just as friends. Please."
Arriella listened intently.
Months ago, his words would have melted her heart. Months ago, she would have cried, pleaded, and clung to the flicker of hope.
But she was no longer that girl.
"Jordan," she replied softly, "I forgave you a long time ago."
His eyes widened—surprise mingled with relief.
"But," she continued gently, "forgiveness doesn't mean I'm ready to go back."
She noticed his shoulders tense at her words.