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A deep line cut across his forehead, his dark brows furrowed.

“I’ve let you down once,” he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. His voice was thick, strained. “But not again.”

He walked back into the room, and took a seat on the edge of the bed. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, the phone gripped between his fingers like it was the only thing holding him together.

“Just one chance, Sienna,” he whispered. “One more. I swear, I won’t disappoint you ever again.”

***

Sienna stood in front of her dresser, a strange mix of tension and anticipation pulsing through her.

She had changed out of her party clothes and slipped into something more casual. The event had drained her, but the calm of being home gave her just enough space to breathe.

She rummaged through her dresser, fingers hesitating on a particular piece—a short nightie in black and pink. Backless. With a plunging neckline.

She swallowed hard, her fingers brushing the fabric.

“Adrian always loved it when I wore little nighties like this,” she muttered under her breath, biting her lip as flashes of their past invaded her mind. The way his voice would drop when he saw her in them, the way his eyes devoured her. And then the memory of his body on that video call… it sent a tremor through her.

She reached for the nightie. But her hand froze mid-air.

‘What am I doing?’ The thought struck like lightning.

The smile on her face faltered.

‘He only wanted me for sex. That’s all he’s ever wanted. He mistook lust for love, and I’m falling for it again.’

Her hand fell away from the nightie. She turned, leaning back against the dresser, her head lowered, sadness spreading across her face like a quiet storm.

‘I won’t make the same mistake twice. I’ve already been fooled once. Am I really going to let it happen again?’

A soft ping broke the silence.

She glanced at her phone. It was a message from Adrian.

He’d sent a photo.

She reached for the phone hesitantly, her heart skipping despite everything. Her thumb tapped the message open, and her breath caught.

It was a picture of a room, set up romantically with flowers, champagne, and soft yellow lights that gave everything a dreamy glow.

But instead of feeling touched, it only made her heart ache more.

Sienna’s hands trembled as her fingers curled around her phone. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, her throat tightening. She squeezed her eyes shut, resting her head against the dresser. No matter how hard she tried, the memories wouldn’t stop. If anything, they crashed back even harder.

She had done something similar before, years ago. More beautiful. More heartfelt.

It was their first Valentine’s Day.

She had decorated his bedroom from scratch, pouring her entire heart into every detail—red roses, fairy lights, a dinner she made herself, even the scent of his favorite flowers drifting in the air. She had been so excited. So hopeful.

He had promised he’d be there.

But the night came and went. She had waited, wide-eyed and hopeful, calling him again and again. Nothing. Only silence.

He never came.

He had shown up the next morning.