He Gave My Heirloom To His First Love

Alora Moore had been called selfish. Cold-hearted. She’d been accused of picking a fight with a woman who was practically at death’s door. But what was so wrong with wanting back the pendant her parents had left her? Did she really deserve to be humiliated? To sacrifice everything for someone who’d already let her go? Alora Moore was not that pathetic.

Before she could get the words out, Rafael Holmes’s phone cut through the room with a sharp ring. Tessa Guzman. Her voice came through thin, threaded with pain. “Rafael, I just coughed up blood. I feel awful. Can you come be with me?”

Rafael hesitated. He hadn’t smoothed things over with Alora yet. But he knew she’d never really leave him—and Tessa was gravely ill. So he chose Tessa. “Don’t cry, Tessa. I’m on my way.”

At the sound of Tessa’s sobs, Rafael didn’t bother explaining himself to Alora. He turned and rushed out of the living room without a backward glance. As the door clicked shut, Alora smiled bitterly and kicked the pendant into the corner.

In the month since Tessa had come back, every time she was upset or unwell, Rafael was at her side in an instant—no matter the hour, no matter the weather. It was as if his promises of forever had been nothing but a dream Alora once dreamed.

But soon, it would all be over. In a month, she’d marry Westley Hall. Rafael wouldn’t have to worry about her anymore. He could live happily ever after with his first love. How perfect.

Ironic, really. December 18th—the date of Alora’s wedding—was also Rafael’s birthday. On that day, he’d be celebrating his birthday, and she’d be getting married. What a strange coincidence.

As far as Alora was concerned, once she and Rafael had broken up, he was no longer her boyfriend. And she sure as hell wasn’t going to keep living in his massive manor. So that Sunday, she spent the whole day packing up her things. What she could sell, she sold. What she couldn’t, she tossed.

She called the city’s top luxury consignment shop. They came out to appraise and buy the collection of second-hand bags and jewelry she’d accumulated, and she walked away with a tidy two million dollars. She didn’t transfer a cent to Rafael; she kept it in her account. It was her right.

Night fell. After she cut up the last scarf she’d painstakingly knitted for Rafael and threw it in the trash, she went back to her room. Just as she was about to leave with her suitcase, her gaze landed on the photograph on the nightstand.

In the photo, she was leaning against Rafael’s shoulder, her smile bright and adoring. He was looking at her with something that almost passed for tenderness. Rafael had always hated having his picture taken. This one was a rare exception—taken on her birthday last year, after she’d talked him into it.

It was the only picture they had together, and she’d once treasured it. It had its place on her nightstand. She used to stare at it, even carry it with her on business trips. But now, all it did was leave a bitter taste in her mouth. Without hesitating, she smashed the frame and dumped it in the trash.

By the time Rafael got back, it was late. After pulling his car up in front of the main house, he noticed the living room was dark. The unwelcoming blackness settled uneasily in his chest.

Before, no matter how late work kept him, Alora always left a light on for him. On snowy nights, that single glow guided him home. Since Tessa came back, those little comforts had vanished.

Rafael figured Alora was still mad at him. Knowing her, she was probably curled up on the sofa, stewing, waiting for him to apologize. “Alora,” he called as he flipped on the lights—and found the living room strangely wide and empty.

He couldn’t put his finger on what was missing, but the room felt stripped bare. “Mr. Holmes, you’re back,” Mrs. Wilson, the housekeeper, said, hurrying out of her room. “You’ve been drinking, haven’t you? I’ll make you some coffee.”

“No need,” Rafael said curtly. He wanted to see Alora—coffee was the last thing on his mind. He headed upstairs to find her.

But she wasn’t in her room either. It was noticeably empty. The potted plants she kept by the window were gone, along with her pillows and blankets.

Her room—once warm and cozy, full of plush toys, delicate lace curtains, and cute wall stickers—had been stripped down to cold black and white. The stark contrast grated on him. He turned to Mrs. Wilson, who had followed him upstairs. “Where’s Alora?”

The ice in Rafael’s voice made her skin prickle. Under his intense stare, Mrs. Wilson shivered before she could stop herself. She drew a deep breath and told him the truth. “Miss Alora said the two of you have broken up. She also said... she won’t be coming back.”

Rafael almost laughed at the nonsense Alora had fed Mrs. Wilson. She was being ridiculous. Running away from home? She was getting bolder by the day.

“Mrs. Wilson, you can go,” Rafael said. Once he was alone, he called his assistant, Jay Swift, and told him to find out which hotel Alora was staying at.

In a city where she had no one, and with how fast she’d left, there was no way she’d rented a place. Her only choice in a fit of pique was a hotel.

Jay, efficient as ever, tracked her down in no time: the city’s premier hotel.

“Alora, how long are you going to keep this up?” Rafael typed into his messages, but he didn’t send it. He deleted the text when he noticed the missing photo frame on the nightstand.

He knew better than anyone how much Alora cherished that photo. Even if she was running away, she would want it with her. So this wasn’t really goodbye.

No need to text her. Four years ago, her family had disowned her. Her biological parents had died when she was six. She had no real home to go back to. If not to him, where else would she go?

Since Tessa came back, they’d argued constantly. But every time, Alora was the first to apologize, the first to make amends. It wouldn’t be long before she did it again.

In the month since Tessa returned, Alora had been drowning in misery, unable to get one peaceful night’s sleep. Now, free of him, she slept straight through the night. Surprisingly so.

The exhaustion from the day before had caught up with her. Her calves ached, and she didn’t want to leave the bed. But she knew it was a workday—and she needed to resign from her job at Holmes Corp. So she forced herself up.

For years with Rafael, she had built her whole life around him. When he was at his lowest, she worked herself to the bone to help him recover. When he rebuilt his fortune, she became his personal assistant, managing every part of his life. Now that she’d left him, there was no way she’d keep working for him.

She wanted to chase the dream she’d had since she was a kid: becoming a renowned voice actor.

“Alora, my stomach really hurts all of a sudden!” Sarah, a young assistant, pleaded the moment Alora walked into the office.

Sarah looked at her with pained eyes. “Mr. Holmes needs this document urgently. Could you please take it up to the CEO’s office for me?”

It was obvious Sarah was in real distress. Before Alora could even nod, she waddled off toward the restroom as fast as she could.

Alora didn’t want to see Rafael, but she liked Sarah, and she didn’t want the poor assistant to get chewed out. So she decided to deliver the document to the CEO’s office herself.

The office door was slightly ajar. Just as Alora raised her hand to knock, she heard Tessa’s playful voice. “Rafael, my ankle suddenly hurts!”

Alora’s hand froze in midair. The light touch was enough to push the door open a crack.

Through the gap, she saw Tessa’s body go limp as she tumbled onto Rafael’s lap. “Tessa...” Rafael caught her instinctively, his hand moving to her waist.

Even after she steadied herself, Tessa didn’t bother getting off his lap. Instead, she looped her arms around his neck, bright and blooming as a rose. “Rafael, what if I suddenly want to kiss you?” she teased, her lips drawing closer to his. He didn’t move away.