The next morning.

Arianna Stone woke up, washed her face, and made herself a quick breakfast of toast and hot milk. She sat at her kitchen table, staring at the crumbs on her plate.

She worked at a fast-moving consumer goods company. After the product launch her department lead oversaw became a massive hit, Arianna had been granted three days of paid leave as a "bonus" for her hard work. Today was her final day off.

The air was crisp, and the morning breeze drifted through the window, carrying a pale, lazy sunlight that pooled on her skin. Arianna leaned back in her chair, savoring the stillness of her morning.

But as always, someone seemed determined to ruin her peace.

The doorbell cut through the silence like a jagged blade. A sudden, sharp memory flashed through Arianna’s mind. She remembered Maxwell King from the night before—standing there against the backdrop of empty, moonlit streets, his gaze so heavy and desolate when he suggested she think about marriage.

At that moment, he had looked so lonely that her heart had ached for him.

But it wouldn't be him at the door. Maxwell was too measured, too deliberate; he would never show up unannounced. And Gemma Bennett was already at work.

That left only one possibility.

Arianna walked to the door and pulled it open. Sure enough, Cameron Hughes was standing there, his face lighting up with an artificial, practiced surprise. "Arianna."

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice flat. "Is there something you need?"

Cameron wore his usual mask of practiced patience. He didn't seem bothered by her cold shoulder at all. Instead, he held out a bag toward her, his tone dripping with false sweetness. "A birthday gift for you. Happy birthday, Arianna."

The sheer audacity of him acting as if nothing had happened left her stunned. She didn't reach for the gift, her eyes remaining cold and detached. "Cameron, we broke up. We are done."

"I know," he murmured, his lips thinning. "I just wanted to drop by and wish you a happy birthday."

Arianna gave a single, emotionless nod. "Message received. Is there anything else?"

Cameron scanned the hallway, his eyes darting around. It was empty, but he still looked ruffled, as if the lack of privacy bruised his ego. "Can't we talk about this inside?"

Arianna kept her hand on the edge of the door, her posture defensive and rigid. "No. Say what you need to say right here."

Cameron misinterpreted her resistance. "Is there someone in there?" He didn't wait for an answer, his voice hardening with jealousy. "Is it Maxwell? Is that it?"

Arianna stared at him, bewildered by his internal logic. "What does Maxwell have to do with this?"

"What do you think?"

She leveled him with a calm, piercing look. "Maxwell and I have nothing to do with each other. Don't drag him into your mess."

Cameron had only been making a snide comment, but seeing her jump to defend Maxwell ignited a flicker of rage in his gut. "Nothing to do with each other? Please. Maxwell took you to the Henderson gala. Do you really think anyone believes you two are just 'friends'?"

Arianna didn't blink. "And you? You've taken Alexis Morgan to dozens of galas. Does that mean the two of you have been sleeping together this entire time?"

Cameron looked like he’d been slapped. He had never expected the once-gentle, obedient Arianna to turn so sharp-tongued. "That’s different! Don’t you understand? It’s not the same!"

"Right, I get it," Arianna said, her tone dripping with mock realization. "You’re just 'buddies,' aren't you? You never saw her as a woman. Is that the script for today?"

Her voice was utterly hollow. The Arianna who once fought him tooth and nail over Alexis was gone, replaced by a woman who looked at him with complete, terrifying indifference.

Cameron felt a genuine panic rise in his chest. He lowered his voice, trying to bargain. "I know you’re hung up on Alexis. I’ll see less of her, okay? And I’ll pretend the whole Maxwell thing never happened. Arianna, let’s just start over. Can we?"

Arianna felt a surge of hysterical laughter rise in her throat. She allowed a small, beautiful smile to grace her lips, though her eyes remained as dead as winter ice.

"Cameron."

"Yeah?"

"Because you and Alexis are filthy, you want to project your slime onto me and Maxwell? You want to pull me down into the gutter just so you don't have to feel like the only cheater in the room?"

Cameron’s face flushed a deep, ugly red as his secret shame was laid bare.

Arianna slammed the door shut before he could find an excuse, her voice echoing through the wood. "Leave. And don't come back. You’re exhausting."

Standing alone on the other side, Cameron’s face darkened, his mask finally shattering. He spun around and stormed off down the hall.

***

After breakfast, Arianna’s phone rang. It was her grandmother, Rosemary Stone.

The old woman’s voice was hushed, as if she were hiding in a closet, but it held a warm, trembling smile. "My little Arianna, you’re another year older today. Happy birthday, dear."

Arianna’s mouth curled into a soft, genuine smile. "Thank you, Grandma."

"What have you been up to on your days off?"

"Just bumming around," Arianna said, then paused. "Oh, actually, I went to Wonder Gardens."

Grandmother chuckled. "Did you have fun?"

"We didn't do much. We got there late and just caught the fireworks," Arianna said, unable to stop herself from sounding like a child looking for comfort. "I told you I wanted to come home and stay with you for a few days, but you wouldn't let me. Now I’m just here alone and bored."

"Go out with your friends, darling. Don't just sit at home," her grandmother comforted her. "You only have three days off. The travel isn't worth it. Just rest up."

"I don't care," Arianna insisted, being purposefully unreasonable. "I'm coming back next time. You aren't allowed to stop me."

"Alright, alright, I won't stop you." Her grandmother sighed with a laugh, clearly yielding. "Just let me know when you're coming so I can cook your favorites."

"Deal." Arianna smiled, chatting happily about the mundane details of her work life. Her grandmother listened on the other end, interjecting with soft hums of approval.

In the middle of this warmth, a high-pitched, childish voice cut through the line. "Grandma!"

Arianna froze. Her spine turned to stone.

Then came a voice that was both unfamiliar and hauntingly recognizable. "Mom, she’s throwing a fit over candy again. Where did you hide it?"

Arianna stood paralyzed, her phone gripped so tightly her knuckles turned white.

"Who are you talking to, Mom?" the woman asked.

"It’s Arianna," her grandmother said. "It’s her birthday today. Come say hello."

The woman’s voice dipped with hesitation. "I don't think that's a good idea..."

"Why not? The girl won't say it, but she misses you. Come on—" Her grandmother’s voice faded, likely covering the mic.

After a few seconds of fumbling, someone picked up. "Hello? Arianna?"

Arianna bit her lip until it tasted of copper. She let out a small, breathless hum.

"Happy birthday."

"Thanks..." The word felt like lead in her mouth. She couldn't bring herself to call the woman 'Mother.' She pivoted to a safer topic, her voice hollow. "How have you been?"

"Fine. And you?"

"I’m fine, too."

The conversation hit a dead end, and a heavy, suffocating silence stretched between them. The woman who was supposed to be at a tutoring center was currently at Grandmother's house with her new family, and she didn't offer a single word of explanation. She didn't care what Arianna might be thinking.

And Arianna wouldn't ask. She knew better than to humiliate herself.

"Mommy!" The little girl squealed, pulling on her mother's neck. Her voice was sweet and vibrant—a sound that pierced through Arianna like a needle. "Grandma says I can't have any candy! Tell her I can, please!"

The woman laughed—a soft, tender sound Arianna hadn't heard in years. "Grandma is just worried about your teeth. Go show her your smile and tell her Mommy said you could have just one."

"And if she still says no?"

"Then Mommy will take you to get some herself, how does that sound?"

"Yes! I love you, Mommy! You're the best!"

"You little brat, you’re only sweet when you want something."

The little girl’s footsteps faded away as she ran off. Silence returned to the phone line, heavy and long—so long that Arianna thought the call had ended.

Finally, the woman spoke. Her voice was weary. "I’ve been so busy lately, I can’t get away. Maybe when I have a chance, I’ll bring your sister to London and visit. You can show us around, right?"

Without waiting for Arianna to answer, she continued, "The baby can't have too much sugar, I have to go watch her. Arianna, try to be more mature. Listen to your grandmother, and take care of yourself."

Arianna lowered her lashes. She didn't respond.

The woman didn't care if she did. She had said her piece, and just like that, the line went dead.

In that moment, standing in her quiet, empty apartment, Arianna suddenly realized with a crushing weight that she wanted a home. A real home—one that belonged only to her.