Chapter 150

The evening at the restaurant had been long and tiring. The clattering of dishes, the hustle and bustle of the kitchen, and the demands of the customers had left. me drained. As I stepped out into the cool night air, all I wanted was to get into my car and drive home, away from the chaos of the day.

I walked down the dimly lit street, the soft glow of street lamps casting a warm and comforting light. My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, a jumble of emotions that I couldn’t quite untangle. The events of the past weeks had left me feeling adrift, caught in the crosscurrents of my own emotions and the tangled web of the Hayes family.

As I walked, I passed by the jewelry store that had always caught my eye with its sparkling displays and gleaming treasures. It was a place of dreams, a place where love was celebrated and promises were made. I had often wandered past, lost in the romantic allure of the window displays, imagining a future that seemed impossibly distant.

But that night, something caught my eye, something that made my heart skip a beat. I paused, my steps faltering, as I looked through the glass and saw them- Timothy and Stella. They stood at one of the displays, bathed in the soft light, their silhouettes etched against the glittering backdrop of diamond rings and gold bands.

Stella was pointing excitedly at one of the rings,

s sparkled with the joy of anticipatio her face lit up with enthusiasm.

Her and she seemed lost in the possibilities that lay before her. But Timothy, by Her side, appeared jaded, his expression distant and detached.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the scene that unfolded before me. It was a tableau of conflicting emotions, a snapshot of a love that was anything but simple. Stella’s excitement contrasted sharply with Timothy’s apparent resignation, and I couldn’t help but wonder what lay beneath the surface of their relationship.

As I stared, lost in my own thoughts, I didn’t notice that I had captured Timothy’s attention. He turned his gaze toward me, and for a moment, our eyes met across the distance that separated us. In that fleeting moment, the world seemed to stand still, and all the unresolved emotions that had simmered beneath the surface came rushing to the forefront.

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Chapter 45

I saw a longing in Timothy’s eyes, a yearning that mirrored my own. It was a silent plea, a recognition of the pain and confusion that had come to define our

relationship. In that moment, we were both prisoners of our own choices, bound by the consequences of our actions.

But as quickly as it had begun, the moment was shattered. I couldn’t bear the intensity of his gaze, the raw emotion that it conveyed. With a quick, almost panicked movement, I ducked away and turned to run, my heart pounding in my

chest.

act of seeing Timothy had opened old wounds and exposed the raw edges of our shared history. The familiar rush of anger and frustration washed over me, and I cursed myself for allowing him to affect

by the encounter. Stella emerged from the store moments later, her face lit up with excitement, oblivious to the turmoil that had passed between

What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice

expression dramatic beneath the street light. Eventually, he forced a

I thought I saw a friend

a simple explanation, and it set her at ease

back to the

apartment, I expected to find it empty, a quiet refuge. As I stepped inside, that wish was quickly dashed as I spotted Aria on the couch, locked in a passionate embrace with Mike, her new

loudly,/causing them to spring apart, their faces flushed with embarrassment. Aria’s expression was guilty, while Mike

said, her face flushed and her voice strained as she tried to regain.

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Chapter 150

surge of anger, the events of the evening having left me on edge.

tension with a weak smile. “Sorry,

in a rush of words. “Evie, I’m so sorry.

frustration still simmering beneath the surface. “Don’t worry about it, guys. It’s your lives; you

space. The events of the evening had left

gift that had once held a special place in my heart. It was the porcelain figurine that Timothy had given me, now shattered into pieces. I had attempted to glue it

done with it. But as I held the broken figurine in my hands, I couldn’t bring myself to part with it. It was a symbol of a past that I couldn’t forget, a past

delicate curves and contours. with my fingers. It was a tangible reminder of the emotions that

and cradled the shattered gift in my hands, its jagged edges a painful reminder of the love that

longing and. regret as our gazes had locked through the window. The moment had stirred. something within me, and I wondered if he would

Aria, her voice tinged with

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