The city didn't care that Elara Verne had become Mrs. Blackwood.
The sidewalks were the same.
The sky was the same shade of tired grey.
And the bus she rode to work still smelled faintly of cheap coffee and impatience.
She sat by the window, staring at her reflection watching her instead of the outside world.
She didn't wear diamonds.
She didn't wear Blackwood silk.
She wore the same simple office dress she always had.
Because she didn't want to disappear completely into him.
The small publishing office welcomed her like an old memory.
The hum of printers.
The sound of keyboards.
The quiet comfort of words.
"Ella!" her coworker Mina whispered excitedly. "You disappeared. For days."
"I was… handling family things," Elara said.
Not a lie.
Not the truth either.
She sat at her desk, fingers hovering over the keyboard.
Then the air changed.
A familiar voice.
Soft.
Too familiar.
"Elara?"
Her chest tightened.
She turned slowly.
Evan.
Her ex.
His brown hair was slightly messier than she remembered. He wore the same shy smile that once felt like safety.
"You still work here?" he asked.
"Yes."
He nodded, stuffing his hands into his pockets like he didn't know where to place them.
"I heard you left town."
She swallowed.
"I didn't."
There was a pause.
Then softer:
"You didn't answer my messages."
I couldn't, she thought.
Not when you left first.
"Work," she said instead.
The silence between them carried too many unfinished sentences.
"I'm… glad you're okay," he said.
She nodded.
"I am."
And for the first time, she realized she wasn't lying.
---
That evening, a black car waited outside the building.
Dominic sat inside.
Window slightly lowered.
He didn't ask where she was.
He didn't demand.
He just said softly:
"Get in."
She did.
"Who was that man?" he asked.
His tone wasn't jealous.
It was curious.
Honest.
"My past," she said.
He looked out the window.
Then quietly:
"Good."
Because if he had been her present…
This would hurt more.