In the shadow of Love

"Madison! Madison!" Aaron in tears kneeling as he held her in his arms.

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Hold up! That's not where we begin.

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Chapter One

New York City buzzed with pulsing life, tireless rhythm of noise and energy. The air carried the scent of rain blended with relentless ambition, one that Madison carter wasn't sure she could keep up with. But here she was, trying as she stood at the edge of her tiny balcony, her hands gripping the rusted railings as she gazed at the city.

She lifted up her face to the sky, letting the gentle drizzle of rain poured over her skin. The rain felt symbolic, like washing away of her past she was determined to leave behind. Her past wasn't a place she often visited, not if she could help it. There were many shades of black and darkness that stung like open wounds, and as if to punctuate the moment, her phone vibrated on the wooden table behind her, an immediate interruption from the calm she was trying to have. She sighed and stepped back into her studio apartment.

Her apartment was an evidence of survival, barely furnished, with a couch that served as both a bed and a silent witness to sleepless nights, a makeshift desk by the window, and a single pot on the stove, worn and scarred.

Madison swiped open her phone, A new message from Rachel, her boss at the gallery, lit up the screen.

"Remember your meeting with the donor tomorrow, its crucial. And for heaven's sake, wear something that screams professional. Make an impression!"

She groaned, tossing the phone onto her couch.

Rachel meant well, but she wasn't sure she could scream anything other than "walking catastrophe." She pressed her fingers to her head, longing to skip to the time when she felt grounded and settled. Maybe even happy. But happiness felt like a luxury she couldn't afford.

The gallery had been a way to rebuild in a city that didn't remind her of her past. It was a modest role, assisting with exhibits and managing donors, but it was hers. After years spent behind the domineering presence of her father, where every decision and choice had been dictated by him, she craved for freedom.

When she heard about the job opening in New York, she grabbed the opportunity desperate for something of her own. Her father was infuriated and his words were sharp.

"You think you can just run away and start afresh? What else do you need? New York will break you, and when it does you will be crawling back to a better life here."

His voice felt like a weapon with each passing syllable meant to wound.

"Madison, you are nothing without me. Nothing!"

His words still tarried in her mind, haunting her. But she wasn't going to let that define her. She was far from being the little girl who cowered beneath his harsh words. She clenched her fists at the memory, forcing herself to focus on here and now.

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"Morning, Maddie!" Rachel's voice reverberated as Madison walked into the gallery the following day. Her boss, a burst of enthusiasm, had her blonde hair swept into a messy bun that screamed effortless chic.

"You are meeting with Mr. Richard in an hour. Ready to work your magic on our biggest donor?"

Madison forced a smile. "I'll do my best."

Rachel stared for a moment, a tinge of concern crossing her sharp features. "You've been...distant. Is everything okay?"

Madison froze for a moment, caught off guard. People didn't usually ask her about her feelings. Most of her life had been spent perfecting the art of being fine, no matter how badly she crumbled beneath the surface.

"Just getting used to the city," she said, her voice carefully even. "It's been...overwhelming."

Rachel didn't look convinced, but she nodded, her stare remained for a while as she breezed off, leaving Madison with her thoughts and the weight of everything she wasn't saying.

The day flew by in a haze of meetings, emails and polite smiles, leaving Madison drained by the time she stepped out of the gallery. The sun dipping below the skyline, washing the city in it's hue. She pulled her coat tighter, the autumn chill biting at her skin, a reminder that winter was just around the corner.

Her stomach growled, snapping her out of her daze. She hadn't eaten since breakfast, and the thought of cooking in her tiny apartment was exhausting. Across the road stood a little diner she'd passed a dozen times but never dared to try. Tonight, it definitely beckoned.

"Cheeseburger, French fries, and a soda, please," Madison called on the waitress as she slid into the booth by the window. The diner felt like a refuge, the warmth air welcoming in contrast to the crisp chill of the evening outside.

As she took her first bite, her ears picked up on a conversation from the booth behind her, the voices low but clear enough to catch her attention.

"I'm telling you, I'm so bad at cooking, I almost burnt a salad the other day..."

She listened keenly, as she chuckled. Definitely the kind of humor she needed in her life.

Back at her apartment, the city lights seeped through the thin curtains, casting faint patterns across the walls. Madison curled up in the couch, a blanket draped loosely over her shoulders. Her eyes drifted on the blank wall, where she imagined an art portrait to be hung. The thought of decorating felt strange, almost defiant, as if she wanted permanence.

Her phone chimed on the table, shattering the quiet.

She hesitated but finally her curiosity overpowered her reluctance, and she reached out for it. The message was brief, but hit as her chest tightened.

"We need to talk. Call me."

The number was unfamiliar, but the area code made her eyes freeze. It was from her hometown.

She stared with fear, her thoughts spiraling.

"who could it be?"

The message conveyed an unspoken urgency, but for a fleeting second, she considered erasing what she felt, but she couldn't. With trembling fingers, she set the phone down, unanswered.