--Ten years later
Elara's POV
I'm twenty-eight now.
Life didn't turn out the way I imagined—but maybe it turned out the way it needed to.
I have a degree in astronomy. I finished it. Proudly. Quietly. But the truth is… the stars never felt like mine. I admired them from a distance, the way I learned to admire certain people.
My health is better now. Stronger.
Though some days, I still need my IV drip—a reminder that healing isn't linear.
With my brother Kai's help, I open something new.
something I'm passionate about.something that gives me hope.something that reminds me of him...It's a cafè.
I name it The Sunset Light Café.
Because sunsets remind me of walks bathed in gold, of quiet conversations, of a boy who never needed many words.The walls are warm-toned, soft music always playing. And lining the shelves—books.
His books.
Novels written by a secret author. The world knows the words, but not the soul behind them.
I do.
Every cup of coffee here tells a story, but one drink means more than the rest.
Golden Silence
A caramel latte with hints of black pepper and sea salt.
I name it without hesitation.
Because it reminds me of the way he loved—gentle, steady, unspoken.
Every week, Liam comes by to help. He laughs easily, fixes broken shelves, teases me when I forget to eat. He's a good friend. Nothing more. Nothing less.
Now I have my own house. My own keys. My own life.
And still… some evenings, when the café is quiet and the sun spills through the windows just right, my chest tightens.
I look at the shelves.
At his words.
At the drink I named after him.
And I wonder—
Did he forget me?
The bell above the café door rings.
I don't look up yet.
Somehow… my heart knows.
Claudio's POV — Age 29
At twenty-nine, the world knows my name.
Not as a writer.
Not as an artist.
But as a businessman.
The meetings are sharp, the contracts cleaner than my conscience. I wear tailored suits now, speak with confidence, lead rooms that once would've intimidated me. My father's university shaped me. My choices shaped the rest.
By every standard that matters on paper, I'm successful.
But there's one thing the world doesn't know.
I never forgot her.Not the way she laughed when she was nervous.
Not the way sunsets softened her eyes.
Not the way silence felt full when she was near.
Elara didn't disappear from my life—she etched herself into it.
I never looked for her. I promised myself I wouldn't—not until I was strong enough, settled enough, successful enough to stand in front of her without asking her to carry me.
I hadn't planned to come here.
my assistant,Jasper had suggested the café casually, scrolling through her phone as if it were nothing more than a place with good reviews and quiet corners for meetings.
"Sunset Light Café," she'd said. "You'll like it."
The moment I stepped inside, something in my chest shifted—like a memory waking up.
Then I saw her.
Elara.
For a second, the world narrowed to just her existence. The counter. The soft light. Her black hair pulled back, familiar and different all at once. She was right there—real, breathing, alive—and my heart filled so suddenly it hurt.
I wanted to cross the room.
I wanted to pull her into my arms, bury my face in her hair, kiss her like I'd waited ten years to do. I wanted to tell her I loved her, that I never stopped, that I would never let her disappear from my life again
That she was mine.
But she didn't look at me.
Not once.
She moved like I was just another customer—polite, distant, professional. As if she hadn't memorized my silence once. As if she hadn't written goodbye in my bones.
So I stayed quiet.
Because something in her stillness told me she recognized me—and that hurt more than if she hadn't.
Then he walked in.
A man-Too close. Too familiar.
His voice said her name like it belonged to him. His hand hovered near her arm, protective, practiced. And when she leaned toward him, weak, trusting—
My jaw tightened.
Who is he?
Why is he touching her like that?
Why does she need him?
And why does it bother me this much?
She took off her apron. Left the counter. Gave instructions like this place was hers.
A café.
She opened a café.
Why?Why isn't she dancing anymore?
The question hit me harder than the jealousy. Dancing had been her language once—how she breathed, how she lived. Seeing her here, fragile and grounded and fading into someone else's arms—
Jealousy rushed through my blood, hot and uninvited.
I watched as they walked out together.
She didn't look back.
I told myself to breathe. To stay calm. To remember everything I'd built, everything I'd become.
Ten years. A business. A life shaped around the idea of finding her again.
She may have walked away.
She may have learned how to live without me.
But the truth settled deep in my chest, unshaken and dangerous:
Elara has always been mine.
And I'm not leaving this time.Till I get answers.
Elara's POV
My fingers tighten around the edge of the counter as I finish writing the order. The room feels smaller, heavier—like the air itself knows he's here.
My heart won't slow down.
I don't look at him. I can't afford to.
"Anna," I call softly.
She looks up immediately, concern flickering across her face when she sees me. I lower my voice. "I need to step out. Please handle the counter."
Anna hesitates for half a second, then nods. "I've got it, mam. Don't worry."
I untie my apron with trembling hands and hang it behind the counter, forcing my breathing to stay steady. Every movement feels deliberate, controlled—like if I rush, everything inside me will collapse.
That's when the weakness hits.
Sharp. Sudden.
I reach for the counter, and that's when the door opens again.
"Elara."
Liam.
Thank God.
He's beside me instantly, eyes scanning my face. "You okay?"
"I need my IV," I whisper. "Now."
He doesn't ask questions. He never does.
"I'll take her," he tells Anna calmly.Sharp. Sudden.
Anna nods again, already stepping fully into place behind the counter, calling out the next order like nothing is wrong. The café keeps moving. Life doesn't pause.
Liam's hand hovers near my arm, careful not to rush me. We start toward the door.
I still don't look at Claudio.
But I feel him.
His silence presses against my skin, heavier than any words he could have spoken. No greeting. No question. No name on his lips.
Just those eyes.
Watching.
Trying to understand why I'm leaving—why I look like I'm falling apart.
As the door opens and sunlight spills in, I finally glance back.
Claudio hasn't moved.
Blue eyes. Glasses. A stranger's posture wrapped around a familiar presence.
Silent.
And for the first time, I realize—
His silence isn't indifference.
It's restraint.
Liam's POV
She was shaking.
Elara tried to hide it—like she always did—but I saw it the moment I reached the café. Her lips were pale, her smile forced, her hand already slipping away from strength.
And then I saw him.
Tall. Calm. Blue eyes behind glasses that didn't miss anything.
So this was Claudio.
The name I'd heard in fragments. In silences. In nights when she thought no one noticed her crying.
She didn't say anything to him. Not a word. But her body reacted before her mind could. Like something old had been torn open.
When I helped her into the car, she didn't resist. That scared me more than anything.
"He was there," she whispered
I didn't need to ask who.
Ten years, and he still had that kind of power over her.
My jaw tightened—not with anger, but with resolve.
I didn't know what happened between them. I didn't need to. All I knew was this:
She was fragile.
She was hurting.
And right now, she was mine to protect.
If he came looking for answers, he wouldn't get them from her.
Not until she was strong enough to face him.
I drove faster, eyes on the road, one promise burning in my chest—
No one breaks her again.