Chapter 15 - The Final Goodbye Aaron
The sky wept the same way Elina did—soft, slow, and endless. Rain soaked through her black dress as she stood by the grave, her fingers clutching a single white lily. Aaron's photo stared back from the wooden easel beside the coffin, his smile frozen in time. A brother, a friend, her only anchor... now gone.
The funeral was quiet. Damon didn't show up. She hadn't spoken to him in two months—not since that night at the hospital when he had tried to say goodbye, and she hadn't even been able to look him in the eye.
She didn't blame him.
She blamed herself.
Tears blurred her vision as she dropped the lily onto the casket. The soft thud echoed in her chest like a cracked heartbeat. Tylor stepped beside her, an umbrella shielding them both from the downpour. He didn't speak, just held her hand. And that was enough.
---
Back at his apartment—her temporary refuge—Elina curled up on the couch, Aaron's hospital bracelet still wrapped around her wrist. Her world had turned into ashes, and yet her heart... it wasn't empty.
It ached for someone.
Damon.
She hated it.
She wanted to rip the feelings from her chest, burn the contract she once signed, and erase every kiss, every whispered promise that had felt too real.
But memories clung tighter than scars.
"I think you should end it," Tylor said gently, breaking the silence.
Elina turned her teary eyes to him. "End what?"
"The contract. Whatever deal you made with Damon... it's killing you."
She blinked. "I already walked away."
"But you didn't break free," he said, sitting beside her. "You still dream about him. You still flinch when his name is on the news. You still check your phone like he might call."
She looked away.
"You deserve better, Elina. Someone who doesn't make you feel like a transaction."
---
Meanwhile, across the city, Damon sat alone in his penthouse. The lights were off. The world outside his window was blurred by the storm.
His phone had been silent for weeks.
No messages.
No Elina.
He hadn't touched a drink, hadn't smiled, hadn't slept properly since Aaron's death. He couldn't forgive himself—for not being there for her, for letting her go when all he wanted was to hold her forever.
His mother had tried to talk to him.
Selena had visited multiple times.
And now, she stood again in front of him, this time with a glass of whiskey.
"Drink with me," she purred, dressed in a silk dress that clung to her like a second skin.
"I'm not in the mood," Damon muttered.
"You haven't been in the mood for two months," Selena said, sitting beside him on the couch. "Let me take care of you."
"I don't need—"
She cut him off with a kiss, her lips forcing his as she poured the spiked drink into his hand.
He pulled away, disgusted. "Selena, stop."
But she didn't.
Later that night, when he finally passed out from the drink she slipped something into, Selena took photos. His shirt unbuttoned. Her lipstick on his neck. they both are naked and lying on bed His unconscious body leaning against her.
By morning, the photos were sent.
To Elina.
Along with a message: "He's still the same. He'll never change. You were just a game."
---
Elina stared at her phone, her stomach twisting with nausea as she saw the images. Her breath caught in her throat, heart pounding.
Tylor came rushing in, having seen her pale face. "What happened?"
She showed him the screen, hands trembling.
His jaw clenched. "This is fake. Elina, this is clearly staged."
But Elina's world spun again. She remembered Damon's touch, his words, how he had said, "You signed a contract. You're mine."
She had started believing it was more.
Now it felt like she'd been played.
"I was right," she whispered, tears sliding down. "I was just a contract."
"Elina, no—"
She got up and walked to the window, letting the cold glass cool her fevered skin. Her heart was breaking again, and this time... she wasn't sure if she could put it back together.
---
Back in Damon's penthouse, he woke up groggy, his head spinning. Selena was gone. So was his phone.
He stumbled into the bathroom, splashing water on his face. Something wasn't right.
When he checked his phone... the missed calls were from unknown numbers. But one image caught his attention in the sent folder—the pictures.
His blood ran cold.
"Selena," he growled, slamming the phone on the counter.
He called Elina.
No answer.
Again.
Voicemail.
"Elina," his voice cracked, "whatever you saw... it's not real. I swear to God, I never touched her. I don't know how she did this, but... please, just believe me. Please."
He leaned against the wall, the weight of his guilt too heavy to stand.
---
Back at Tylor's place, Elina sat in the dark. She didn't reply.
Could she ever trust him again?
She didn't know.
But what she did know was this:
I
t was time to end the contract.
And start over.
Even if it meant erasing the man who had once made her feel like she belonged.
---