riend Mark's musical dreams. I paid the rent, I believed in h
wealthy patron, Daniel. That favor ended in t
areer as an architect over. But Mark ignored my injuries, sc
owerful brother, Julian, loomed over my gurney
on the apartment I paid for and gave a false statement to
summoned to Julian Thorne's office. He d
sk and gave me a choice: ruin an
. "In return, I will not only drop the lawsuit, but I will pe
pte
Veridia Central Park, reimagined. My design. For months, this project had been my entire world-a symphony of winding pathways, native wildflower meadows, and serene water features design
ould finally elevate me from a junior associate at a middling firm to a name people recognized. More
, a soft smile touching my lip
the one who encouraged him to enter that prestigious competition, who stayed up all night helping him collate his press kit, who believed in his genius when he was ready to give up. His success was my success. His dream, our shared future. And now, with thi
f the desk, pulling me from my
tatic. Drinks at his penthouse to celebrate.
go. Daniel, with his family's old money and influential connections, was opening every door for Mark, doors I could only ever dream of knocking on. I should have been thrilled. I *wa
established, once my career takes off, we'll be in that world together.
fying sound. I'd drop these off at the courier's office and then head home. Maybe I'd buy a bottle of our fa
be, I heard his key in the apartment door. My heart gave a
all home office nook. "You're back early! I
rom the hallway cast a long shadow that seemed to swallow our tiny living room. He hadn'
mate. It was a voice I hadn't heard him use in months.
h, froze in mid-air. My breath caught in my throat.
ided. But I couldn't move. I stood there, shrouded in the
t me. "Clingy. Always talking about 'our future,' our 'stable home.' It's suffocating. I needed someon
piercing through five years of carefully constructed belief. Suffocatin
bones. "She thinks her little park design is going to be our ticket to suburban bliss. It's almost sweet. She's been
pping stone
o tilt beneath my feet. The betrayal was so absolute, so profound, it stole the air from my lungs. It wasn't just the affair-it was the casual, brutal dismissal of my love, my sacrifice, my entire being. He had taken everything I'd given h
se he whipped around, his eyes widening as they landed
is face a mask of panic
s: the truth, the lies, the five years of my life I had poured int
office nook, and shut the door, the click of the latch sounding like a gunshot in the silent apartment. My hands were t
r ago, buried beneath spam and work notifications.
The Leveson Prize for A
. I had applied on a whim three years ago, a desperate, hopeful shot in the dark,
of the Leveson Prize. This includes a fully-funded, two-year residency in Rome to oversee the construction of your proposed pr
ew life.
k, his voice a low, pleading murmur. "Clara
n impossible timeline. It was a lifeline. A glimmer of a world that was entirely my own, a future he hadn't ta
he first time, his voice sounded distant, l
-