Goodbye to Yesterday's Love

Before I could step into my room, Morgan reached out and caught my arm, his grip firm.

“Hey, since Demi’s birthday is coming up soon, why don’t you give her this jewelry set as a gift? I’m sure she would appreciate it.” His tone held a subtle pressure, and he met my gaze with a pointed look.

“Yeah,” Nate chimed in, nodding in agreement. His voice, oddly supportive of Morgan’s suggestion, held a strange warmth. “She’s been through a lot, Ariel. This would really mean a lot to her. Why don’t you come with us to the hospital and make amends?”

A surge of bitterness rose in me, and my hands clenched tightly around the jewelry box. Without turning to face them, I kept my voice cold. “I already said it’s up to you two. Now, let go of me. I have things to take care of.”

Morgan’s grip slackened reluctantly, and I could feel their eyes on me, disappointment etched in their silence. But I did not care. I had more important things to do, to pack up my life, handle my father’s affairs, and figure out my next steps.

As I moved inside, I caught their murmurs drifting through the half-open door, likely about how they could present the jewelry to Demi to make it seem romantic. A dry chuckle escaped me as I grabbed my suitcase, amused by the irony of the situation.

I set to packing, methodically folding clothes and filling the suitcase. The sight must have caught their attention because they peered in, eyes widening as they took in my half-filled bag.

Realization dawned on their faces, but before either could speak, Nate’s phone rang, cutting through the silence.

“Yeah, Demi, we’re coming. Just sit tight,” Nate said softly into the phone.

With barely a second glance at me, he and Morgan rushed out, their urgent footsteps echoing down the hall as they hurried to her side. I listened until the last sound faded, leaving only an empty silence.

Once I had finished with my clothes, I turned my attention to a large box on top of the closet. It was filled with birthday gifts my mother had sent every year, from my earliest days to my twenty-second birthday.

As I pulled it down, a wave of nostalgia hit me, followed by a sinking realization: in this world, my mother was the only one left who truly loved me, making the decision to leave Stanmore solidified with each passing minute.

As I placed the last of my belongings into the suitcase, my phone buzzed with a new notification.

I checked it out in case it was important, but only got Demi's latest post. It seemed like she was really excited to post that day.

She even uploaded two photos: one of Nate and Morgan standing by her side with a bag of clothes, and the other showing off the jewelry set they had brought for her.

The caption read, [What a lovely set of jewelry! My birthday is still two days away, but @Nathan_Than and @Your_Morgan have already given me this precious gift. Thank you, guys!!]

Anger simmered beneath my calm facade. I typed a comment, barely suppressing my frustration, [Well, you deserve it, Demi.]

Then, with a wry smile, I tossed my phone onto the bed and went to my father’s study.

The study, still untouched, was a haven of order and detail. My father had been meticulous, and he kept records of every connection and contact in a leather-bound book.

Leafing through, I quickly found the name I sought: Jerome Morrow, a college friend and trusted partner of my father’s.

I dialed the number, and he picked up on the second ring. After a brief conversation, we arranged to meet at my father’s studio the following day to discuss the arrangements.

**

The next day, I arrived at the studio to find a man waiting, his face instantly recognizable from an old photograph my father had cherished. “Mr. Morrow?” I greeted him, extending a hand.

He smiled warmly and took my hand. “Yes, that’s me. And you must be Ariel. The last time I saw you, you were just a little girl, so you might not remember.”

I returned his smile, feeling a sense of comfort in his familiarity. “Thank you for meeting me, Mr. Morrow,” I said as we walked into the studio, the space filled with memories of my father.

We talked for a while, and I explained my plans to leave, asking if he could oversee the business in my absence. His expression turned serious, but he nodded, understanding the weight of my request.

“Of course, Ariel,” he replied, a gentle respect in his voice. “I would be honored to look after your father’s studio. He was one of the finest jewelry designers I have ever known.”

A soft light came into his eyes as he continued, “In fact, he once designed a piece called the Diamond Jade. It was truly special.”

My curiosity piqued. “Diamond Jade? I don’t think I have ever seen it.”

Jerome’s gaze softened. “Your father designed it back in college. He intended it for his wife, hoping it would eventually pass to his children and grandchildren. But when your parents divorced, he entrusted it to me, unable to bear the sadness it brought him.

“You know, Ariel, they truly loved each other, but sometimes, love and ambition clash. They chose their careers over staying together.”

His words struck a bittersweet chord within me. I nodded, feeling a strange sense of connection to the legacy my father had left behind. “Thank you for sharing that, Mr. Morrow.”

“And I think it’s time this piece found its way back to you,” he said, offering it to me. “I can send it through a courier if you would prefer.”

“Yes, please. Thank you,” I said, my gratitude genuine.

After finalizing the details with Mr. Morrow, I returned home, feeling lighter but determined to finish what I had started.

Yet as I stepped through the front door, I froze, my relief vanishing in an instant.

Demi was seated comfortably on the couch, a smug smile on her face as she opened a jewelry box with a look of pure satisfaction.

My heart dropped as I recognized the Diamond Jade, the piece Jerome had promised to send me.

The sight of her fingers on that precious heirloom ignited a fury I had not felt in years.

“Don’t you dare touch what isn’t yours!” I snapped, storming over to her, my voice filled with cold anger.