Chapter Five – A Past That Still Hurts

I shouldn't be thinking about him. 

But the room smells like him again. 

Lilies mixed with jasmine this time. A different arrangement, but the same vibe. 

The scent floats through the air, sticking to everything. I find the flowers in the living room, pretty and bold, in a tall silver vase I've never seen. Next to it, a small cream envelope catches my eye, tilted just enough to be noticed. 

My heart skips a beat. 

You still look at the world like it won't hurt you. I don't get how you do that.

I stare at the note, and the words hit me like ink spreading in water. 

The handwriting is familiar. Still, those precise loops that I remember. 

Noah. 

I grip the card tightly, like it might disappear if I hold on hard enough. It should be in the trash, with everything else of his that's trying to crawl back into my life. 

But I tucked it away in my drawer instead. Weak. So very weak. 

What am I doing? 

I flop onto the bed, elbows on my knees, head in my hands. Outside, the city sparkles, loud and bright, filled with strangers and stories. But all I can think about is the boy who promised to come back under the tree and never did. 

Now, ten years later, he sends flowers. 

Like petals can fix what he broke. 

I shut my eyes tight. 

And I remember.

Ten years ago. 

It was right after finals. The sky was a hazy gold, and everything smelled like rain and cut grass. We were seventeen, barefoot in the grass behind the old science block, away from the noise. 

Noah always knew where to find peace. 

We sat under the almond tree, the one with our initials carved into it. My heart raced too fast as he held my hand like it was something special. 

He looked at me with that young love confidence. 

"When we're older, I'm coming back for you." 

I blinked, almost afraid to believe him. "You promise?" 

"I swear." His grip tightened. "Just wait for me, Zara. I'll come back. We'll have everything." 

And I believed him. 

I waited under that tree the next summer. 

And the one after. 

Then I just stopped going. 

Back in the present, I look at the lilies on my dresser like they're poison. 

He never came back. 

No goodbye. No call. No closure. 

I waited until waiting turned into shame. Until hearing his name felt like acid. Until the girl who once believed in promises stopped believing altogether. 

The Zara I became? She built walls. Learned to use silence as a defense. Became the girl who wore lipstick like armor and heels like a shield. 

And now Noah thinks he can just return? 

It's the next day, and work feels like a battlefield behind sleek glass walls and fancy suits. 

As soon as I step into the office, I feel, tension thick in the air like storm clouds. My heels click on the marble floor, the receptionist gives a strained smile, and I can feel whispers behind me. 

I don't need to look to know he's watching. 

I don't need to ask who. 

Noah's voice still echoes in my head from yesterday, low and familiar, heavy with old promises. 

"I'm not leaving, Zara. Not again. I need to make this right." 

But I'd already turned my back on him, fists tight with too much hurt and no closure. 

"Then you're already doing it wrong." 

I should've cut it off there. Should've meant what I said. 

But feelings don't listen to me. 

When I get to the top floor, Kairo is in his office, arms crossed, eyes locked on me like he's been waiting for this exact moment. His face is unreadable, but his stare is sharp. 

I nod and hustle to my desk, still shaking, trying to look busy. 

Then I hear it. 

Zara. 

I freeze. His voice is low. Too calm. 

My office. Now. 

I swallow hard and get up. Each step feels like a walk toward judgment. 

Once inside, he doesn't say a word. Just moves around the desk, opens a drawer, and pulls something out. He tosses it at me without warning. 

I catch it. 

The card. 

Noah's second one, the one with the lilies. 

My stomach churns. 

You left this in the conference room yesterday, Kairo says calmly. Funny handwriting. 

I hesitate. I... must've dropped it. 

He raises an eyebrow. From Noah, right? 

I don't reply. Can't. 

His voice tightens. Is he a problem? 

My fingers grip the card. He's from my past, I explain cautiously. Nothing more. 

His jaw tenses. 

I don't like problems from the past sneaking into my present. 

I can handle it, I say quickly. 

Silence. 

He doesn't say anything. Just watches me like he can see every crack in my defenses. Not like a boss watching his employee but like a guy assessing a threat to something he thinks is his. 

Can you? he finally asks. 

I lift my chin. Yes. 

Another moment of silence. 

His eyes are intense not angry, but something more. Something hungry. 

Possessiveness. 

And for the first time since this fake marriage started, I see it clearly. 

He doesn't just want me for the contract. 

He's not just acting like the perfect CEO. 

Kairo is jealous. 

And jealousy, on him, looks dangerous in a suit.