Ethan
The city stretched before me, its skyline glittering like a thousand promises I never quite believed in. I adjusted my tie, more out of habit than necessity, staring at those lights that seemed to echo the emptiness inside me. Thirty years old, sitting at the helm of one of the largest companies in the Dominion. On paper, I had it all—the success, the stature. But beneath it all, there was this gnawing sense of incompleteness, a shadow that trailed me even in the brightest moments.
The creak of the office door broke my reverie. I didn't need to turn around to know it was Rowan—his walk was as familiar to me as breathing. We are friends since pre-school, we did everything together since I can remember, he is my closest friend and the General Manager of the company I am CEO of.
"You've got solid numbers for last quarter," he said, dropping the folder onto my desk with a thud.
"Good. Leave it there," I replied, my voice clipped but steady. He lingered, of course he did, studying me like I was some puzzle he couldn't quite solve.
"You've been awake since dawn," Rowan pointed out casually, his concern hidden behind lightness.
"I'm fine," I cut in, not harsh but final enough to stop him from poking further. He just raised an eyebrow, a silent challenge, but wisely didn't press.
Moments later, Aria appeared with her usual soft, rhythmic steps. Rowan's younger sister had always been a force of balance in my life—a warm presence that made the edges of everything seem less sharp. She placed a steaming mug on my desk, her movements calm and intentional.
"I thought you might need this," she said simply.
I met her gaze briefly, something about her ease forcing me to hold that moment longer than I expected. "Thanks," I murmured.
"You're welcome," she replied, her voice carrying the effortless warmth I could never replicate.
Cass entered after her, tablet in hand, wasting no time with pleasantries. "We're tracking growth in the East," she stated bluntly, her hazel eyes flickering with efficiency. Cass was efficient. Just as Rowan and his sister Aria, she has been part of my life for a long time now. These are the people I trust, the people that know me, the people that cares for me, but today, I don't need them around, I need space.
"Anything else?" I asked, maintaining the professional detachment they were all used to. They knew it wasn't personal.
Aria stayed just a touch longer, her voice slipping into the space between Cass's directness. "Just wanted to make sure you aren't going to collapse on me midway through this meeting."
I couldn't help the smallest flicker of a smile at that, though I quickly masked it. "I'll survive," I replied evenly.
Rowan finally closed the door behind them, and their voices faded into the background, leaving me alone with the hum of the city and my thoughts once again. I tucked my hands into my pockets, gazing back out at the skyline, wondering when—or if—this lingering emptiness would ever release me.
Aria
The elevator doors slid shut behind us, sealing the three of us inside. I shifted my grip on the tablet, hugging it tightly to my chest as silence settled around us. Rowan stood against the wall, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on some distant point. Cass stared at the numbers on the floor display, her expression unreadable. None of us spoke, but I could feel the weight of the unspoken words hanging in the air.
I couldn't hold it back anymore. "He's still not sleeping," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. My eyes darted between them, hoping they'd confirm what I already knew. "You saw it, didn't you? The shadows under his eyes. The way he just... zones out in the middle of a conversation."
Cass nodded, her hazel eyes betraying her concern. "It's getting worse. During meetings, he's distracted, off, somehow. His focus, it's not the same. Not sharp like it used to be." I clenched the tablet tighter. "It's the nightmares again, isn't it? Same as before." Rowan's voice was steady, but the way he leaned against the wall told me he was bracing himself for my answer.
I exhaled slowly. "It always is. He tries to hide it, but it's there. I see it every time he looks away, like he's chasing something—or someone—only he can see."
"Luelle." The name came out like a breath I couldn't hold anymore.
For a moment, the air shifted. It wasn't often we said her name aloud—it felt sacred, like saying it might disturb the delicate balance we all tried so hard to maintain.
"You think that's why?" Cass's voice softened, drawing my gaze to her. "The nightmares? Because of her?"
I nodded, memories flashing through my mind—her courage, her sacrifice. "She saved him," I said, steady despite the weight pressing on me. "She knew what she was doing, throwing herself into the path of that bullet. But sometimes I wonder... how? How did she see the sniper when none of us did? It's like she was always one step ahead, always watching over him."
I closed my eyes briefly, recalling the hospital hallway, the sterile walls, the doctor's solemn words: "We did everything we could." Ethan had crumbled under those words, his body folding like the weight was too much to bear. When he woke days later, he had no memory of Luelle—her face, her voice, their connection—all locked away somewhere his mind couldn't reach.
"He doesn't even remember her," Cass said softly, pulling me back from the past. "Not really."
"No." I shook my head, the ache settling into my chest. "His mind hid her away, like it was protecting him from the pain. He remembers tutoring her, vaguely, but she's just a blur now."
Rowan frowned, his arms dropping slightly. "Then why the nightmares? Why is she still haunting him after all these years?"
I hesitated, my voice lowering. "Because his heart remembers. Even if his mind doesn't, his heart knows. He loved her, Rowan. Even if he didn't understand it back then, he did. And now, he's left chasing fragments of a loss he can't name but feels every second of his waking life."
Cass tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear, her frown deepening. "You think that's why? Why he keeps chasing her in his dreams?"
"I do," I replied quietly, looking down at the tablet in my arms. "Part of him knows what she did for him, what he lost before he even had a chance to tell her how he felt. He's still carrying the weight of her sacrifice, even if he doesn't realize it."
The elevator chimed softly, and the doors slid open. We stepped out into the corridor, but the echoes of our conversation lingered behind us. I glanced at Rowan and Cass as they walked side by side, their hands brushing—a quiet reminder of their bond, their ability to find strength in each other.
Thirteen years. It felt like a lifetime ago, and yet the memory was as vivid as if it had happened yesterday.
"I can't believe it's been that long," I murmured, my voice barely audible. "Feels like just yesterday we were waiting in that hospital room, praying for a miracle. And now... here we are. Rowan's running operations, Cass is a strategist, James is holding down PR like he was born for it. And Ethan..." My voice faltered, catching on the truth I didn't want to say.
Rowan finished it for me. "He's exactly where the Dominion wanted him to be."
I nodded, the ache in my chest deepening. "But he's not whole."
Cass's whisper broke through the silence. "Do you think he'll ever remember her?"
I slowed my steps, my thoughts slipping back to the hospital, to Luelle's mother, to the weight of her words and the heartbreak in her eyes. "I don't know," I said finally, the heaviness pulling me under.
"Part of me hopes he doesn't, because if he ever does... it might break him all over again." We walked on, the corridor stretching ahead, the weight of Luelle's sacrifice, Ethan's grief, and our shared memories trailing quietly behind us.