Chapter 3

After I said it, I looked at Freddie, waiting for his reaction.

But the warm, understanding smile I pictured never appeared.

Instead, his face showed clear confusion at first.

Then, that confusion shifted into a mix of emotions I couldn't quite read.

He looked both confused and almost incredulous, like he found the whole thing ridiculous.

In the end, all those feelings melted into a wry, bitter smile, like he was mocking himself.

"Promise?" he murmured, a teasing undertone in his voice. "What promise?"

My smile froze on my face.

It felt like an invisible hand was squeezing my heart.

"Well... you know, the 'meet you at pinnacle' thing," I said.

My voice faltered, barely able to explain myself, "You said we should each work hard, and when we finally reached the top, we'd meet again at pinnacle.

"That promise kept me going for ten years. It was what I chased all this time."

I spoke slowly, almost pouring out everything I'd believed in and fought for these past ten years.

But with every word I spoke, his expression grew more and more bemused.

It wasn't the look of someone touched, or even nostalgic.

Instead, it was a kind of exasperated amusement, like he'd just figured out a ridiculous misunderstanding.

My voice trailed off under the weight of his knowing gaze.

The only sound left in the studio was the faint hum of the equipment.

Freddie looked at me like I was the punchline to some cosmic joke.

Then, he let out a soft, almost incredulous laugh.

It was short, barely more than a breath, but it cut through me like a blade dipped in ice.

"Meet you at pinnacle?" he said.

He shook his head, the bitterness in his eyes so deep it wouldn't fade. "Arabella, what I said was—meet you at Pinnacle Tower."

Suddenly, it hit me like a ton of bricks.

My mind went completely blank.

He meant Pinnacle Tower, that old, abandoned signal tower right next to our high school.

It was the go-to spot for couples at our school.

Meet you at Pinnacle Tower and meet you at pinnacle—it was just a single word's difference, but it was a world apart.

My lips trembled, but I couldn't get a single word out.

He didn't even notice my shock. He just lowered his gaze, lost in some distant memory.

His voice was so low that it was almost like he was talking to himself. "I kept wondering who that heartless little trickster was back then. You really left me hanging."

His eyes locked onto my pale face, and he spelled it out for me, like I was on trial. "I spent the whole night waiting for you at Pinnacle Tower."

Those three words felt like three bullets to the heart, instantly destroying the world I'd spent ten years building.

Turned out, it wasn't a romantic promise for the future.

It was just the simplest, most direct invitation for a date, a date invitation I'd let slip by for ten years.

I thought I was clever, but I ended up being the fool who thought he was the bad guy, the guy who dangled an impossible promise and then disappeared like a ghost.

And I even spent years quietly resenting him for not keeping his word.

Turned out, I was the one who let him down.

I was the one who left him hanging.

All the grit, all the pride, and all those years I spent hyping myself up all became one big, ridiculous joke.

I was the clown who messed with him and then spent ten years basking in my own self-delusion.

The ridiculousness and guilt hit me like a tsunami, completely overwhelming me.

I couldn't breathe.

I looked at him, and in his eyes, I could still see that disappointment—hidden by years, but still lingering.

I wanted the ground to swallow me up.

"You..." He seemed about to say something else, concern flickering in his eyes.

But his words didn't reach me anymore.

I spun around and bolted out of the studio like a coward fleeing the scene.

I crashed right into a crew member hauling gear, and behind me, I could hear Freddie calling my name.

But I couldn't stop.

I couldn't bring myself to look back.

I just wanted to escape from this truth that made me wish I could disappear.

I bolted like a coward, running from the battlefield of glory I'd built with my own hands—totally defeated.

My heels hammered out a messy rhythm on the shiny floor, each beat a merciless taunt for the ten years I'd spent chasing a lie.

I burst through the studio doors, tuning out my assistant's frantic shouts behind me.

And I blocked out the voice in the chaos, the one I could never mistake for anyone else's, his. "Arabella."

There was a hint of urgency in his voice that I couldn't quite make sense of.

But I didn't dare look back.

I didn't have the courage to face those eyes that saw through everything.

I rushed into the elevator, frantically hitting the close button.

As the elevator doors slowly slid shut, I caught a glimpse of Freddie's silhouette just outside, chasing after me.