All my life, I had only ever wanted one thing—to be loved, truly loved, and seen for who I am.

Not half-loved

Not almost chosen.

Just enough for one person to stay.

I wanted to be someone’s priority. Someone they would think about first thing in the morning and last thing at night.

I wanted the kind of love that felt safe, the kind that didn’t make you question your worth or second-guess every little thing you did.

But somehow, that kind of love always felt just out of reach.

I watched other people fall into relationships so easily, laughing, smiling, and sharing moments that looked effortless. Meanwhile, I was always the one trying harder, giving more, hoping that maybe—just maybe—this time, it would be different.

And then, I met him.

He came into my life so unexpectedly, like something straight out of the stories I used to read late at night.

He was kind, attentive, and everything I thought I had been waiting for.

He listened when I spoke. He noticed the little things. He made me feel like I mattered.

For the first time in a long time, I let my guard down.

I allowed myself to believe that maybe this was it. Maybe this was the love I had been searching for all along.

The kind that didn’t hurt. The kind that stayed.

I gave him everything—my time, my trust, my heart.

And for a while, it felt real.

But sometimes, what feels real isn’t always true.

The signs were there. I just didn’t want to see them. The late replies. The sudden distance. The way his words stopped matching his actions.

I told myself I was overthinking. I convinced myself that love required patience, that maybe I just needed to hold on a little longer.

Until I couldn’t ignore it anymore.

The truth didn’t come gently. It didn’t give me time to prepare or soften the blow. It hit me all at once, like a wave I never saw coming.

Betrayal.

The word alone felt heavy, but living through it was something else entirely. It wasn’t just about what he did—it was about everything I believed. Everything I had built in my mind, every hope I had carefully held onto, shattered in a single moment.

I remember sitting there, trying to process it all, but nothing made sense.

My chest felt tight, my thoughts scattered, and all I could think was—why?

Why was I never enough?

Was I too much? Too emotional? Too available?

Or was I simply not the person he truly wanted?

The questions didn’t stop, and neither did the pain.

That was the moment something inside me changed.

I started to doubt everything—my judgment, my worth, even my ability to love. The idea of opening up to someone again felt exhausting, almost impossible. If giving my all could still leave me this broken, then what was the point?

Life wasn’t a bed of roses. I knew that now more than ever.

And slowly, without even realizing it, I began to build walls around my heart. Strong, high walls that I believed would protect me from ever feeling this way again.

Maybe love just wasn’t meant for me.

Maybe some people were destined to give love, but never truly receive it.

So I made a quiet decision.

I would stop trying.

Stop hoping.

Stop believing in something that only ever seemed to hurt me.

It felt safer that way.

Easier.

Or at least, that’s what I thought.

Little did I know… love wasn’t done with me yet.

Ella

Starting over isn’t easy. Okay… maybe it’s more than a little hard. It’s scary, confusing, and sometimes lonely. But if you don’t let go of the past, you’ll never move forward. That’s what I keep telling myself.

Two years ago, my world fell apart. My ex betrayed me—completely, utterly. I stayed in London for a while after that, pretending everything was fine, but it wasn’t. Every corner of that city reminded me of what I lost. So, I made a decision. I needed a fresh start. Not just a new apartment or a new job, but a whole new life. Manchester. New city, new people, new possibilities.

Of course, starting over isn’t glamorous. Moving to a new city meant doing odd jobs, applying for countless positions, going to interview after interview, and facing rejection after rejection. Some days, I wondered if it was worth it. But then I remembered why I moved. This time, I wasn’t just looking for a job. I was looking for a chance to rebuild myself.

Today felt different. I had an interview at Landmark Holdings, one of the biggest companies in Manchester. Everyone talked about them—top-tier clients, high-profile deals, amazing career opportunities. But honestly, I wasn’t feeling overly excited. I had been here before. Interviewed. Rejected. It was easy to build walls around my hope. I didn’t want to get my heart set on something and have it shattered again.

A knock on my door startled me.

“We’re late, ma!” Ann’s cheerful voice called from the hallway.

I smiled, grabbed my bag, and rushed to the door. “Coming!”

“You look prettier when you dress corporate,” Ann said, locking her door behind her.

“Stop teasing me,” I said, rolling my eyes but smiling.

“Teasing? No, just stating facts,” she replied, grinning like she knew something I didn’t. I chuckled and followed her downstairs.

We got into a taxi, the city streets of Manchester rushing past us.

“So, tell me about your boss,” I asked casually.

“You seriously don’t know him? Wow. I thought maybe you would have done a little background check, at least on Google. Anyway…” Ann paused, obviously excited. “…he’s popular. One of the most successful real estate dealers in Manchester. Everyone knows him.”

“I don’t have time to check men online,” I joked, though curiosity was bubbling inside me.

“He’s rich, extremely handsome, ” Ann continued, almost bouncing in her seat. Ella. This family is big news.”

“Wow,” I laughed. “Do you have a crush on him?”

“Not just a crush,” she gushed. “I want to marry this man. Like, for real. Life partner. Forever. Can you imagine?”

I couldn’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm. Ann was always dramatic, but her energy was infectious.

The taxi pulled up in front of Landmark Holdings. The building was massive, sleek, and intimidating. Glass walls reflected the morning sun, and people in crisp suits moved confidently in and out of the revolving doors. My stomach twisted in nervous excitement.

“Wait… are all these people staff?” I asked, glancing at the crowd rushing to the elevators.

“Nope. They’re all here for interviews,” Ann said, her eyes sparkling.

“For the PA position?” I asked, my heart skipping a beat.

I took a deep breath. This was it. My chance. My fresh start.

I drew number seven out of twenty for the interview—a tiny spark of hope. Seven had always been my lucky number, even if it seemed silly to believe in luck. Today, though, I allowed myself to hope.

The waiting area was tense, a mixture of quiet confidence and obvious anxiety. Some candidates whispered to each other, others stared blankly at the floor. I kept my eyes on the polished glass doors, imagining myself walking out of here with a new job, a new future.

When my name was finally called, my legs felt like jelly. The interview room was modern, with a long table and a few intimidatingly professional people staring at me expectantly.

The interview itself surprised me. It was simple—almost too simple. A few questions about my experience, a scenario here and there, and a discussion about my goals. I spoke honestly, tried to keep my nerves in check, and reminded myself that this was my moment. Five minutes later, it was over.

I walked out of the room and immediately resumed my silent prayers. Please, let this be it. Let this be the one.

An hour passed in a blur. We were called to check the results. Ten names out of twenty would be hired. The tension in the room was thick, almost suffocating. Everyone clustered around the board, eyes scanning desperately.

I held my breath, scanning the list. My heart sank. I didn’t see my name at first.

And then—there it was. Number one. PA post. My name.

“Oh my god! I can’t believe it!” I screamed, throwing my hands in the air. The sound of my own voice surprised me. Other candidates stared, but I didn’t care. This was my moment.

Ann squealed beside me, hugging me tightly. “I knew you’d get it! I just knew it!”

I laughed, half in disbelief, half in pure joy. After years of struggling, after moving cities, after countless setbacks, I finally had something to celebrate.

“Yes! I did it!” I whispered to myself, a smile spreading across my face.

This job wasn’t just a paycheck. It was a symbol of my fresh start, a sign that moving on wasn’t impossible. That maybe, just maybe, the future was finally on my side.

I took a deep breath, letting the excitement settle into me. For the first time in a long while, I felt ready. Ready to face challenges, ready to prove myself, and ready to embrace everything Manchester had to offer.

Today, I wasn’t just Ella, the girl running from her past. Today, I was Ella, the PA at Landmark Holdings. And this was my fresh start.

Keyden

“Hey man, free tonight?”

Myles’ voice came through my phone just as I was struggling to close an overstuffed box.

“Nah,” I replied, pushing down on the lid. “Still got a lot of packing to do.”

He chuckled softly. “Aww… I’m gonna miss you.”

I shook my head, even though he couldn’t see me. “Seriously, man… this is all messed up.”

There was a short pause. “What?” he asked, his tone shifting.

I sighed, dropping the box and sitting on the edge of my bed. My room looked like a storm had passed through it—clothes everywhere, half-empty drawers, memories scattered in every corner.

“Everything,” I said. “This move… my dad… Manchester. I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“Key,” Myles said calmly, “I know your old man is doing this for his own reasons, but you can’t keep living like this.”

I frowned. “Like what?”

“Like you don’t care,” he said. “Like life is just parties, girls, and waiting for trust funds. You’re better than that, man.”

I leaned back, staring at the ceiling. His words hit harder than I expected because deep down, I knew he was right.

“Look,” he continued, “maybe Manchester isn’t such a bad thing. At least you’ll be away from your dad’s control for once.”

I let out a slow breath. “It’s not just that. You know why he’s sending me there.”

Myles went quiet for a second, then let out a small laugh. “What, he still thinks you and… him should reconnect?”

“Not funny,” I muttered, rubbing my face.

“Alright, alright,” he said. “But don’t you miss him? It’s been, what… 17 years?”

“19,” I corrected sharply. “It’s been 19 years since he left.”

The memory still stung. I didn’t like thinking about it, but somehow this move was dragging everything back up again.

“Damn,” Myles said. “That’s a long time.”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t tell me you still have feelings for your ex-stepbrother?”

I sat up quickly. “I don’t,” I said, a little too fast. Then I sighed. “And it’s ex-stepbrother. They’ve been divorced for years.”

Myles laughed. “Sure, man. Keep telling yourself that.”

I smirked despite myself. “I’m serious.”

“Okay,” he said, clearly not convinced. “But you still think he’s hot though, right?”

I hesitated, then shook my head with a small laugh. “I mean… yeah. He is. Probably hotter now.”

Myles burst out laughing. “I knew it!”

“Shut up,” I said, smiling.

“I don’t blame you though,” he added. “If he aged well, then yeah… I get it.”

I ran a hand through my hair, my thoughts drifting. Everything about this situation felt unreal. Going to Manchester, seeing him again after nearly two decades… it didn’t make sense.

“But seriously,” Myles said, breaking my thoughts, “how are you even planning to approach him?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted honestly. “I just have to figure something out when I get there. My dad wants me to get him to invest in the business, so… I’ll try whatever works.”

“Man,” Myles said softly, “that sounds stressful.”

“It is,” I replied.

There was a moment of silence between us—one of those quiet moments where you don’t need to say much because everything is already understood.

“I’m really gonna miss you,” he said finally. “New York won’t be the same without you.”

I smiled faintly. “Same here. I’ll miss you too… and yeah, I’ll miss New York. The vibe, the people…”

“The girls,” he added quickly.

I laughed. “Yeah, that too. The girls and their fine selves.”

Myles chuckled. “Relax, I heard Manchester has its own share of fine people.”

“Then I guess life won’t be boring,” I said playfully.

“When’s your flight again?”

“3 p.m.”

“Alright,” he said. “I’ll come see you off.”

“Thanks, man.”

I stood up, looking around my messy room again. “I better finish packing.”

“Yeah. Get some sleep too. Big day tomorrow.”

“Good night, bro.”

“Night.”

The call ended, leaving the room quiet again.

I stood there for a moment, just breathing. Tomorrow, everything would change. Whether I liked it or not.

The Next Day

The airport was already buzzing when we arrived.

People rushed past in every direction—families, couples, business travelers—all moving with purpose. Announcements echoed overhead, and the sound of rolling suitcases filled the air.

Myles walked beside me, unusually quiet.

“So… this is it,” he said after a while.

“Yeah,” I replied, adjusting my bag on my shoulder.

We stopped near the departure gate. I looked around, taking it all in—the noise, the lights, the constant movement. It felt strange knowing I was leaving all of this behind.

“Crazy,” Myles muttered.

“Very.”

He turned to me, his expression serious. “Take care of yourself, alright? And don’t let your dad control everything you do over there.”

“I won’t,” I said.

“And don’t fall too hard for your ex-stepbrother again,” he added with a grin.

I rolled my eyes. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Nope.”

We both laughed, but the moment felt heavy underneath it.

Then he pulled me into a quick hug. “I mean it though. I’ve got your back, no matter what.”

“I know,” I said quietly.

They called my flight.

I pulled away, grabbing my luggage. “That’s me.”

“Text me when you land.”

“I will.”

I gave him one last look before turning toward the gate.

Each step felt heavier than the last, but I didn’t stop.

No turning back.

On the plane, I got a window seat.

As the engines roared to life, I stared outside, watching the runway stretch endlessly ahead.

Then, slowly, the plane lifted.

New York began to shrink beneath me—the buildings, the streets, everything becoming smaller and smaller until it was just a blur of lights.

I leaned back in my seat, exhaling deeply.

This was really happening.

I closed my eyes, letting my thoughts drift.

Manchester.

A new city. A new life.

And him.

After 19 years, I was going to see him again.

I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t know how I would feel.

All I knew was that nothing would be the same.

The plane climbed higher into the sky, carrying me toward a future I wasn’t ready for… but one I couldn’t escape.

And maybe, just maybe, this fresh start was exactly what I needed.