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Chapter 5 - Chapter 5: Opening Old Wounds

Cynthia

I stood in front of the full-length

mirror, still trying to figure out if the woman in the wine-colored gown was

really me. I turned to the left, then back to the right, pretending I wasn't

fishing for compliments.

you know that kind of fit that clung to

you like it had known you for years? Like it was made to hold only your body

and no one else's? That kind of fit.

My arms shimmered from the body oil I

barely remembered to apply. My lips, a shade redder than the dress itself. My

curls fell just right. Just the way I liked them when I needed to feel uplifted

and I did. I felt uplifted tonight.

I wanted Levi to see me. To look at me

like I was the whole scenery of this over-lit city. I wanted his eyes to pause.

Just for a second. No, for an hour.

But he wasn't here. Still running up and

down in the name of organizing. Since we arrived in Dubai, he had been all work

and no Levi. Calls, texts, check-ins, and now tonight, this big event where

apparently his presence was more important than oxygen.

i knew it would be like this, but i

thought he wouldn't have to do as much as this if i came. What could i possibly

help him with in this dress?

I stood there a little longer, my hands

hanging by my sides like they had forgotten what to do. I wasn't even upset.

Just... slowly dissolving into the shadow of his calendar.

The door creaked open.

Levi walked in, head down, one hand

typing something into his phone, the other holding some kind of badge. My heart

went "Great!" when i saw him. His suit was tailored sharp, deep navy

blue, almost black, hugging his frame just the way I liked. He hadn't looked up

yet.

"You've been out working since we came,"

I said softly, almost like I wasn't sure I wanted to say it out loud. But I

did.

He looked up. Froze.

That pause I was waiting for, it came.

His lips parted slightly - not wide enough to let a fly in, his eyes widened

just a little like I caught him off guard. His expression softened instantly,

like my dress had pressed an invisible switch on his body. No, my body. Like my

body had pressed an invisible switch on his body.

"Wow…" he exhaled. "You look... babe, you

look beautiful."

I smiled, a small one at first. The kind

you wear when you're trying not to fall apart just because someone finally

noticed you. I made it look like i wasn't falling apart, but my heart was.

"I was hoping we'd go down together," I

said, adjusting the strap on my shoulder. "Even if it's just for the picture...

or air."

He chuckled, the kind of laugh that says

I hear you, but I already made plans that don't include fixing this. He walked

toward me, leaned in quick and kissed my cheek.

"I've got to check on the audio team, the

lighting guy, the stage order... It's a mess down there. I'll see you down,

beauty!"

And just like that, he zipped out of the

room and the door closing before I could even say "okay."

"okay..." i whispered into the

silence.

I stood there, staring at the space where

he'd just been. Where the scent of his cologne still floated like it was

mocking me.

I didn't even have time to miss him, he

was gone before I could hold a thought.

I turned back to the mirror. My

reflection was still stunning, still proud of me... but a little lonelier now.

And that's when I knew that this night

was going to be different. Not because of the glam, not because of Dubai, not

because of the cameras or speeches or whoever would be on stage...

But because something was about to happen

that no beautiful dress could prepare me for. Not even the redest of hearts.

The night outside shimmered like it had

swallowed a thousand stars and spat them back out just to decorate this city.

Dubai always knew how to show off. But

tonight, it wasn't just the skyline, the hotel lobby wore a kind of magical

elegance. Velvet ropes, golden lighting, soft jazz floating in the background

like perfume. The kind of place where your heels sounded expensive just for

walking on the marble floor. Knock... knock... knock.

I held the sides of my gown, carefully

descended the grand staircase with my head turning slightly, eyes dancing

across the room. I was looking for Levi. Or rather, scanning like a woman who

wasn't looking but definitely was. A lie told only by posture. Head up, spine

straight, gentle walk.

He wasn't at the entrance. Not by the

bar. Not near the floral centerpiece where people were already taking too many

pictures.

I walked in further. The ballroom had

swallowed most of the crowd by now. I spotted a few familiar faces from our

earlier meetings, nodded politely, smiled with a restraint that said "don't

talk to me yet." My mind was elsewhere, locked on one person who promised to

meet me "downstairs."

But Levi was nowhere.

A hostess passed, offering champagne.

"Madam?," she proposed. I

declined.

I spotted an empty seat not too far from

the podium. Close enough to see, far enough to sulk without being seen. I sat,

adjusted the slit of my dress carefully across my thigh, and kept looking over

my shoulder.

Still no Levi.

I sighed. Folded my arms. Unfolded them.

Folded again. He always did this. Not deliberately, no. He just didn't notice

the little moments that mattered to me. The picture before the program starts.

The way I wanted us to enter like a team. Like people who belonged to each

other.

A voice crackled through the speakers. A

host introducing the next speaker.

Applause, light and distracted. I didn't

bother to look up.

Until I heard a voice. That voice. My

heart started to race. My heart was in a heated conversation with my brain.

What did i just hear? No theres nothing to worry about, really?

Ant then the voice again. Rich. Smooth.

Familiar in a way that twisted something deep in my stomach.

It wasn't just the sound of it, it was

the weight it carried. The kind of voice that didn't rush. That let silence

walk beside every sentence. The kind of voice that had taught me how to breathe

once. Had held me in moments brighter than the darkness Levi could not imagine i had been through.

It was that voice that once whispered

with a voice unbroken. Almost toneless, rigid and relentless, through a phone,

"Cynthia... We can't have a life together," to my bones on a cold

night, my wrist punctured and veins refilled with blood that wasn't mine. The

blood i knew He had but didn't want to bother him.

I closed my eyes. Took a deep breathe.

No. It couldn't be. Took another deep

breathe and started to feign relief.

But then he laughed. My eyes widened

gradually. I swallowed. God. That laughter. My eyes flew to the stage.

There he was.

Damson.

My whole body went still.

He stood at the podium like it belonged

to him, like the night itself had been waiting for him to take the mic. His

skin glowed richer now, clearer. The boyish softness I remembered was gone,

replaced with a sheen of something... sharper. More certain. His jaw was

defined, his suit expensive, not in cost but in confidence.

And that voice... the same one that once

whispered, spoke and screamed my name like a prayer was now projected to a

hundred ears, smooth as silk, bold with years of study and speeches. He spoke

like a man who had mastered the art of being heard.

I felt a little sense of fulfillment, his

hard work didn't go in vain.

He moved with grace, like his body

already knew what came next was a hand gesture here, a pause there. And that

smile...

That smile made my heart pulsate even

stronger. My hand curl into my dress and into the skin of my thighs.

I sat frozen. Not because I wanted to

move, but because I couldn't. My entire soul had been slammed into a memory I

had buried with dirt, tears, and silence.

This man was supposed to be a forgotten

fragment of my being, but before i could think of leaving off his field of

view, as he scanned the crowd casually, his eyes gliding like he didn't know

the damage he carried, he looked my way.

He scanned the room slowly, and casually.

Then his eyes found mine. No smile.

Just a pause. Subtle. Sharp. Like his

whole body forgot what it was supposed to do next.

His mouth opened, but no sound came. Not

immediately.

Then he caught himself — just a breath

late and carried on. Too smoothly and too perfect.

That's how I knew he saw me and that he

remembered my face. I knew i couldn't forget the face of a good memory turned

misery. No man could.

And that he hadn't forgotten me. What was

i exactly? What he left behind.

And for a split second, my life took a

turn i wished i was ready for.

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