Zoya stood by the large window of her apartment in Newyork, watching the city lights flicker like stars. The very city that once felt like a distant dream was now her home. The girl who once roamed barefoot on muddy village paths now walked in heels across polished marble floors. She had fought, fallen, and risen—and now, she owned this space, her life, her dreams.
A soft knock at the door pulled her out of her thoughts.
She wasn’t expecting anyone.
Opening the door cautiously, her breath caught in her throat.
“Jez?” she whispered.
There he stood—tall, radiant, with the same piercing blue eyes and a smirk that hadn’t aged a day. His presence dragged her years back, to the dusty corridors of school, to stolen glances and crushed hopes. Jez, the boy every girl wanted—the boy Zoya had dared to like, but who had humiliated her for it.
“Well, well. Zoya from the village. Look at you now,” he said, his voice dripping with mock surprise. “Didn’t expect this.”
Zoya smiled politely, unsure if it was habit or shock that moved her lips. She stepped aside, letting him in. Her heart thudded in confusion, memories crashing like waves—his laughter, her tears, that day he chose someone else and mocked her accent, her clothes, her roots.
“So, this is your place?” he asked, eyes wandering around the modern apartment. “Not bad. You’ve done alright. Still drink tea with your fingers crossed or have you learned the city way?” he chuckled.
Zoya’s stomach twisted. The hurt she had buried long ago stirred again, but she kept her chin high.
Before she could respond, the doorbell rang again.
She opened it to find Adrien—her fiancé—smiling warmly. His presence, like sunlight, dissolved the growing darkness Jez had brought in.
“Hey, Zoya,” Adrien said, leaning in for a soft kiss on her forehead. Then he noticed Jez on the couch.
“Adrien, this is Jez. An old… acquaintance,” Zoya introduced.
Adrien extended his hand, confident and calm. “Nice to meet you, man.”
Jez shook it with a nod. “Likewise.”
For a moment, the room brimmed with awkward silence. Then came small talk—half-hearted laughter, subtle digs from Jez, and Adrien’s kind but firm interjections. Zoya sat between them, watching two different worlds converse.
“So, what do you do now, Jez?” Adrien asked.
“I’m in business. Married, kids, the whole deal,” Jez replied, waving his hand like it was no big thing.
A sudden vibration in his pocket made him excuse himself. “Need to take this. Be right back.”
He stepped out into the front yard.
Zoya, the ever-gracious host, picked up a tray of snacks to follow him. As she neared the door, his voice stopped her.
“Why are you calling again? I told you to stop whining!” Jez snapped. “No, I don’t care if you’re tired. It’s your job to handle the kids. I didn’t ask you to marry me, remember that!”
Zoya froze. Each word fell like a stone in her chest.
“Don’t start crying now. I’m not coming home tonight, deal with it. And stop calling during my visits—I told you I’m meeting an old flame. I need to keep her interested.”
The tray nearly slipped from her hands.
She stepped back quietly, her heart pounding not with pain, but with clarity.
Back inside, Adrien was waiting. He looked up and smiled the moment he saw her. She set the tray down calmly, sat beside him, and leaned into his shoulder.
Jez returned a few moments later, grinning like nothing had happened. “Sorry about that. Just some annoying office stuff,” he said.
But Zoya wasn’t listening.
Her eyes were on Adrien. The man who believed in her without question. The man who respected her roots, supported her dreams, and never once mocked her journey.
“You know,” she said, turning to Jez, her voice firm, “some things change for the better. Some people, thankfully, don’t.”
Jez raised an eyebrow, taken aback.
“I used to think fate was unfair,” she continued. “When you laughed at me, left me for someone you thought was better. But now I see—I wasn’t rejected. I was protected.”
Jez chuckled awkwardly. “Whoa, that’s dramatic.”
“No,” Adrien said, his voice cool and steady. “That’s truth. And I’m lucky she waited for someone who could see her worth.”
Jez shifted uncomfortably, his charm failing him now.
Zoya stood, walking to the door. “Thank you for stopping by, Jez. But it’s time to go.”
He looked stunned. “Just like that?”
“Just like that,” she said with a smile. “Goodbye.”
She closed the door behind him, the soft click echoing like closure.
Adrien pulled her into a hug, and for the first time that night, she let herself feel every emotion. Relief. Strength. Gratitude.
Destiny had been just. The past had come knocking—not to hurt her, but to remind her how far she’d come.
And how beautifully she had bloomed.
She didn’t need revenge, or explanations. She had peace. And in the quiet comfort of Adrien’s arms, she finally understood what it meant to be truly free,deeply loved, and entirely herself at last.
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