"Sir."

The single word hit Callahan Meyer like a bullet. Sharp. Precise.

He felt the air leave his lungs, his vision narrowing as he stood before her.

"Maya..." His voice was low, frayed at the edges.

He reached out to touch her shoulder, but stopped, his fingers clenching into a fist. He paced, agitated, his jaw set in a hard line.

"I’ve been looking for you for months. That’s enough. Come home with me. Now."

Maya looked at him, her expression utterly detached. She looked through him as if he were just part of the scenery.

"Home?" Her tone was clinical. "Where exactly is that, Callahan?"

"Our home!" He lunged forward, closing the distance. "The city apartment. I was wrong, okay? I’m saying it. I shouldn’t have treated you that way. I shouldn’t have questioned your loyalty. I’m sorry. Come back. I’ll make it right. It’ll just be us. I promise—"

He couldn’t finish. Maya stepped back, putting an unbridgeable distance between them.

"Mr. Meyer," she said, the formality of the title slicing through the tension. "Please. Keep your composure."

Callahan’s eyes darkened, frustration simmering beneath his skin. He felt a wave of helplessness, his throat tight as he stared at her.

"Don’t call me that," he rasped. "Look at me, Maya. It’s me."

He pulled a crumpled, unsigned document from his coat pocket—the notice of their engagement’s termination.

"I didn’t sign this," he bit out, his voice laced with desperate intensity. "Look at it. It’s void. We haven't officially broken off the engagement. You’re still mine."

"It’s a unilateral termination," Maya cut in, her voice cold. "Your consent is a legal technicality. My attorneys have already finalized the filings. Mr. Meyer, legally, we have no connection."

"Then I’ll win you back!" Callahan took another step toward her, his expression a volatile mix of rage and regret. "Maya, give me a chance. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving I’m the man you need. I—"

"Callahan Meyer."

Maya offered a faint, thin smile—sharp and entirely devoid of warmth.

"Do you remember?" she asked, her gaze piercing. "Back then, isn't this exactly how you pursued Alexandria Rodriguez? Standing outside her dorm for hours, sending ninety-nine roses to her office, telling her, 'Give me a chance, let me take care of you.'"

Callahan paled, the blood draining from his face.

"What’s wrong?" Maya’s smile deepened, though her eyes remained frigid. "Are you recycling the same script you used on Alexandria? It’s a pity. I’m not interested in a rerun."

Her words cut like a serrated blade across old wounds.

Callahan opened his mouth, but the words died in his throat. He wanted to scream that it wasn't the same, but the memories—the ones he had tried so hard to bury—surfaced with suffocating clarity.

When it was just a family-arranged engagement, Alexandria had complained about the lack of courtship. Blinded by arrogance, he had performed the role of the devoted suitor. He had waited, showered her with gifts, and whispered every hollow promise he could conjure.

He had believed it was love then—a reckless, impulsive fire. Now, hearing those same phrases echoed back by Maya, they sounded like a cruel indictment.

"Callahan," Maya said, her face a mask of indifference. "I don’t love you anymore."

She tilted her head. "Correction: I’m no longer capable of it. You dismantled my ability to love, piece by piece, until there was nothing left."

She tapped her chest.

"It died in here," she said, her voice quiet but resonant. "It died when you forced me to handle the pregnancy termination alone. It died when you left me in that cold, dark utility room. It died when you had your men rough me up. And it finally withered when you dropped me at the police station to take the fall for Alexandria. It’s gone. Rotted through."

Every memory was a scar, marking the end of any reconciliation.

"Stop wasting your time," she told him, her verdict absolute. "Go home. Be happy with Alexandria. You two deserve each other."

She walked past him, heading for the exit.

"No!"

Driven by a spike of panic, Callahan spun around and closed the distance in two strides. He caught her, pulling her into an embrace that was less about affection and more a desperate, suffocating anchor.

"I’m not letting you walk away!" He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his breathing ragged, his voice thick with agony. "I’m not going anywhere. Maya, without you, I don't know who I am. There’s nowhere left for me to go..."

Maya stiffened, pushing against his chest with calculated force. "Let go of me!"

"I won't! If I let go, I’ll lose you forever," Callahan gripped her tighter, his restraint fracturing under the weight of his regret. "I was wrong. I’m burning with the realization of it. Hate me, resent me, do whatever you need to do... but don't cast me aside. Please, just stay."

"Callahan."

Maya stopped struggling. Her voice was steady, sharp enough to cut.

"You look pathetic."