Chapter 5

...I miss you Arman....

Days turn into weeks,

Weeks turn into months,

Almost two years had passed since that night, since he left her with a dozen roses, a stack of money, and his whispered name burning against her ear. Arman. The memory still haunted her, sweet and sharp, like a wound that never healed.

Now it was autumn, the sky heavy with cold rain. Nella stood in the cemetery, her umbrella

forgotten, the downpour soaking her hair and clothes. But she didn’t care. This was the hardest day of her life the day she lost everything.

Her mother’s battle with cancer had ended that morning. The woman who always smiled through the pain, who taught Nella how to arrange flowers and how to love, was gone. And with her passing, her father’s heart had given out too,

unable to bear the weight of grief

Nella sat in the mud before their graves, her knees pressed to the wet earth. The photographs carved into the stones stared back at her her mother’s warm eyes, her father’s proud smile. She traced the cold marble with shaking fingers, her tears mixing with the rain.

"Why?" her voice broke raw. "Why did you leave me here all alone?"

She stayed like that for hours, talking to them through sobs, pouring her pain into the silence. She told them how much she missed their voices, their laughter, the way they made the flower shop feel alive. She begged for answers, but only the sound of rain replied.

In her heart, she hated the way life had taken them. She hated the way he had left her too, with nothing but questions. Arman’s name burned in her chest where was he now, when she needed someone the most? Why wasn’t he here?

Nella felt like a broken angel, her wings torn away, sitting between graves and rain with

nothing left but her pain.

And yet, even in the emptiness, a part of her whispered that this wasn’t the end that she will manage. That was her. Always believing in good.

The weeks after her parents funeral blurred into endless work. Nella poured herself into the flower shop, opening early, closing late, arranging roses until her fingers bled. She told herself she was too busy to think of him. Too busy to remember the way his voice had wrapped around her heart like chains. Too busy to feel the sting of betrayal.

And yet, in the quiet moments, his face always returned. Arman. She whispered his name like a curse, called him bastard in her anger, hating him for vanishing when she needed him most. For leaving her with questions that tortured her soul.

One warm summer evening, the city lights of

Moscow glimmered like scattered stars across the streets. For once, she closed the shop early, her heart heavy and restless. She wandered through the city, letting the night air carry her thoughts away. The soft summer breeze caressed her olive skin, playing with her dark hair. For a moment, she almost felt calm.

Until she saw him.

Her steps faltered. Her breath caught in her chest.

Arman.

Tall, commanding, impossibly handsome, just as she remembered. But he was not alone.

A beautiful woman clung to his side, his arm wrapped possessively around her slim waist. He leaned down slightly, his mouth close to the

woman’s ear, and she laughed.

The world tilted. Nella’s heart stopped beating for a second, a sharp pain cutting through her chest. Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag, her legs frozen in place

She wanted to run to him, to scream, to demand answers. She wanted to claw the woman’s hands off him, to ask why her and not me? But she couldn’t move. She stood rooted to the ground, her stormy brown eyes wide with hurt and

disbelief.

For a moment, Arman’s head lifted. His gaze swept the crowd like a predator sensing prey. And then his eyes locked on hers

Time stopped.

The city noise faded, the world holding its breath. His expression didn’t change. No smile, no

surprise. Just a slow, burning intensity that made her knees weaken

The woman at his side tugged his arm, drawing his attention back to her. He let her pull him away.

Nella’s heart cracked, each step he took beside the stranger tearing her apart.

And still, she couldn’t look away.

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