Three days passed
No messages. No calls. No sign of her.
The PSG training ground was quieter than
usual. Dominic was colder than ever-
shouting at teammates, fists clenched
through every save. Damien had stopped
joking, his usual spark dulled, eyes
constantly scanning the stands, the streets,
hoping.
But she was nowhere.
Until a blurry photo surfaced online.
Fiona.
At the airport
Smiling
Next to him-her childhood best friend, the
one both damien and Dominic had
always hated in secret. He held her bag like
a gentleman, arm lazily around her shoulder
like it belonged there. And she didn't move
away.
Paris lost its breath that day
Dominic phone slipped from his
hand.
Damien cursed in Italian under his breath.
No note. No explanation. Not even a
goodbye.
She left.