The first light of morning crept through the sheer curtains, casting a golden hue across the room.
Catherine stirred before she opened her eyes. Her body ached in the best way possible, a gentle soreness from being touched, claimed, remembered, seen. Her limbs were still entangled in warmth, the bedsheets tangled like a whisper of the night before.
Jason's arm lay draped across her waist. His breathing was deep, even… peaceful.
And yet, her chest tightened.
She turned slowly, careful not to wake him. He looked different in sleep,younger, less guarded. Like the weight of the world wasn't on his shoulders in this single moment of stillness.
Catherine traced the line of his jaw with her gaze, not her fingers. She wouldn't let herself touch him again. Not now. Not when she knew this couldn't mean anything.
Because what happened between them wasn't love. It couldn't be. It shouldn't be.
It was a spark in the dark. A beautiful mistake. A mistake that should be forgotten.
A lie she desperately needed to believe, if only for one night.
Her bare feet hit the carpet without a sound. She moved quietly through the suite, finding her dress from the night before crumpled at the foot of the bed. The straps still carried the scent of him. Her heels waited by the door like silent witnesses. No note. No goodbye. Nothing. Just the echo of her heartbeat in her ears as she reached for the handle, turning it slowly, breath catching as the door cracked open.
She looked back once.She silently hoped she wouldn't meet him again.
Jason was still asleep, chest rising and falling in slow rhythm. Oblivious. Vulnerable. Beautiful.
Her throat tightened.Then she slipped out.
The hallway was cold, the silence sharp. With every step she took away from him, the ache in her chest grew.
Not because she didn't want to stay.But because she knew if she stayed any longer…She wouldn't be able to walk away at all. She knows nothing about him.
Three days later.
Catherine sat curled into the corner booth of a quiet café, her hands wrapped around a mug of coffee that had long turned cold. Rain tapped steadily against the window beside her, tracing patterns down the glass like tears she hadn't cried. She sipped the coffee and winced. Bitter. Cold. Just like the silence she left behind.
She should have felt relieved. That was the deal wasn't it? One night. No strings. Just an escape people like her never got.
Her phone buzzed two times but she was too engrossed in her thought to notice.
She'd left his suite before sunrise, still wearing the night. Lipstick smudged, heels in hand, heart… full and broken at the same time. She was a mess.
No note.
No goodbye.
She just vanished into the early morning.
And now here she was, three days later, stuck between the fantasy of what had happened and the sick ache of walking away.
"Let me guess," a familiar voice cut through her fog. "Still brooding over Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Rich?"
Catherine looked up as Rina slid into the booth across from her, setting her umbrella down with dramatic flair and tugging the hood off her oversized raincoat. And say down on a chair opposite her.
She was her usual self , loud, unapologetic, and glowing with life. Everything Catherine suddenly felt like she'd lost.
Rina gave her a look. "I texted. Twice. You ignored me. That's either heartbreak or a hangover."
"Neither," Catherine lied.
Rina arched her brow. "So, you're just sitting in the same café three mornings in a row, nursing the same cold coffee for fun?"
Catherine sighed and looked out the window. "It was supposed to be nothing, Rina. Just a one night thing."
"But?"
"But it wasn't."
Rina didn't speak for a bit. Then she leaned forward, eyes sharp. "Talk."
Catherine hesitated.
"You slept with him, didn't you?" Rina asked, more softly this time. "Jason Smith."
The name alone sent a shiver through her spine. She nodded.
Rina sat back. "Damn. Okay. That's… hot. So how was it? Was it bad? Wasn't he good?"
"Rina."
"I'm just saying! The man's a billionaire. He looks like sin. He could probably make a nun consider career changes."
Catherine cracked a smile, just barely.
But it faded fast.
"It wasn't just the sex," she whispered. "It felt like… something else. Something dangerous. I don't even know him, but I felt him. The real him. Like he peeled me open without even trying."
Rina's teasing dropped instantly. "And then you left?"
"I had to. It's better this way."
Rina frowned. "Is it?"
"I don't do complicated things, Rina. I don't get messy. I certainly do not do messy either. And someone like him?" She shook her head. "It's written all over him. He breaks things. And I don't want to be one of them."
"But maybe…" Rina said slowly, "he doesn't want to break you. Maybe he wants to hold you. Maybe he is not as bad as he seems or you make him out to be."
Catherine looked down at her coffee again, the liquid still and dark.
She didn't reply.
And Rina didn't push.
Instead, she reached across the table, placed her hand on top of Catherine's, and gave a gentle squeeze.
"Whatever this is," she said softly, "you don't have to run from it alone."
Catherine bit her lip, fighting the lump forming in her throat. " Now why don't we go home and eat breakfast. Then you can get back to your freelance work and stop crying over spilled milk. Try and forget about it and him too. I mean what is the chance you will meet him again. You both are from different worlds. Plus he didn't even get your name, so he would not be able to find you even if he wanted to"
She said with a satisfied smile as she saw Catherine's face lit u
p a little.
But deep down, she knew.Running hadn't really freed her.
It had just made her crave him more.