Chapter 2

Solo stood outside Dominic’s apartment, the keys he had given her feeling heavy in her hand. The morning sun fought through the clouds, casting a pale light over the city. She paused, her heart pounding. She had spent three years in that apartment, but now, it felt foreign, devoid of shape and familiarity.

Her time here was over. The place wasn’t hers anymore. It never was.

She sighed.

With a steady breath, she unlocked the door and stepped inside. She walked through the apartment, her eyes scanning every room. Memories flooded her mind with each step and object she saw.

The familiar scent of Dominic’s cologne lingered in the air. Once comforting, the faint scent now wrapped around her as if dragging her into the past.

She closed her eyes, letting herself remember—the quiet moments shared when they would sit in silence after dining together, the evenings when he would work late into the night, his sharp voice cutting through the stillness with quick phone commands.

He had always been distant, even when she had tried to bridge the gap to reach him. His cold demeanor was a rebottle, rejecting any sibilance of warmth. Drawing a distinct line between them to ensure she knew her place.

But today, she wasn’t here for memories. She was here to erase herself. Even so, she couldn’t stop the snippets flooding her mind.

“I’m not asking for anything, Dominic,” Solo had said one night as they sat on opposite sides of the couch. She had been trying to reach him, to connect, but as usual, he was miles away.

Dominic’s gaze had remained fixed on the documents in his hands, not even sparing her a glance. “Good. There’s nothing to ask for.”

The coldness of his words had stung, but she didn’t flinch. She had learned to mask her pain well.

“I just thought—” she had begun, but he cut her off.

“There’s nothing to think about, Solo. You know what this is.” He had looked at her then, his dark eyes indifferent. “We have an arrangement. That’s all.”

She shook her head, dragging her thoughts to the present. Her hand trembled as it hovered over the jewelry box on the dresser. She opened it, staring at the contents—expensive meaningless trinkets, diamonds, emeralds, and rubies Dominic had given her over the years—pricey, cold tokens of what had never been love. She removed each piece and placed them into a bag.

One by one, she stripped the apartment of everything that bore her touch—the clothes he had bought her, the decorations she had added to make the sterile space feel like a home. It had never really been home, though, not for her. It had always been Dominic’s world, which she had never belonged in.

By the time she was done, the apartment was as cold and minimalist as it had been the day she moved in. Every trace of her was gone.

With the last of her things packed, Solo took a deep breath and walked out, leaving the key on the kitchen counter. She didn’t look back.

Dominic entered the apartment later that evening, his mind preoccupied with work. The day had been long, and he hadn’t thought about Solo since their previous conversation. She had taken the news well, surprisingly well, and that had made it easier for him to push it aside.

But something felt off as soon as he stepped inside. The apartment was...different—sterile. The warmth he had never acknowledged before was gone. The scent of fresh flowers, which Solo had always insisted on, was absent. Everything seemed cold, hollow, and lifeless.

Dominic furrowed his brow as he entered the living room. His gaze roamed the room. The walls were stripped bare, and the shelves emptied. He made his way to the bedroom, his heart racing. He opened the closet.

Nothing.

Her clothes were all gone.

The jewelry box—empty.

He checked the bathroom, the guest room, and the hallway closet. There was nothing left of her. Every piece of her life that had once occupied this space was gone. His frown deepened, and for the first time, a gnawing sense of unease settled in his chest.

What did she do? Did she have a reset button? She hadn’t just taken her things but erased herself from his life.

His jaw tightened as he reached for his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he found her name. He pressed the call button, listening to the dial tone. One ring. Two. Three. Then, the automated message.

The number dialed is no longer in service.

He dragged the phone from his ear, glaring at the screen in disbelief. It was as if it was his first time seeing such a device. His mind reeled from this unexpected turn of events. He scratched his head. No longer in service? Impossible. He dialed again, but the result was the same—a cold, empty message.

“Has she changed her number?” he asked in confusion, pacing through what was now an empty apartment—only the original furnishings remained. “What the hell is she thinking?”

Dominic felt a pang of emotion he’d never allowed himself to experience as an adult. He felt it now—panic. Sure, he had expected her to take a few things when he ended it. But this? This was different. This was...final.

He walked into the kitchen, staring at the counter where she had left the key. It sat there, cold and metallic, a reminder of how easily she had walked away.

And for a brief moment, a memory flashed through his mind—Solo, sitting in the corner of the apartment, reading a book by the window. Her presence had been constant and steady, even if he had never acknowledged it.

But now, she was gone.

Dominic stood in the middle of the empty apartment, the silence pressing around him. It made him realize how much of himself he had kept hidden from her—and how much she had given, only to disappear without a trace.

Though he knew the outcome, he couldn’t hold back and redialed her number. It didn’t work. The number dialed is no longer in service.

The apartment felt like an empty shell, stripped of all warmth, leaving a cold, hollow ache that settled deep within him as he stood there.

He had lost her.