The Wishes We Keep

The next morning, Cayden arrived. He stood at the entrance of the villa, his tailored suit accentuating his broad shoulders and lean frame. He hadn't changed much from six years ago—still as handsome as ever. But there was something new about him, an air of maturity and control that hadn't been there before. His presence now felt heavier, more commanding.

I caught sight of him through the window before he stepped inside. He paused at the doorway, his hand lingering on the polished brass handle for just a second longer than necessary. For a man who had always carried himself with such confidence, that brief hesitation felt... off.

When our eyes met, his steps noticeably faltered. Gone was the easy grin he used to flash me whenever we met. Instead, his face held an unusually cautious expression. The man who once ran toward me with open arms now approached me as if walking on glass.

Was my presence making things difficult for him?

I gritted my teeth, suppressing the sting in my chest. I reminded myself not to fall back into old habits, the ones that made me place his feelings above my own.

Cayden stopped a few steps away, close enough for me to catch the faint, familiar scent of tobacco and cologne clinging to him.

He raised his hand slowly, brushing a strand of hair from my face. His touch was light, almost hesitant. A shadow of regret flickered across his face. "You cut your hair so short. What a shame."

The comment stung more than it should have. Did he expect me to stay exactly the same after six years in prison? I shifted slightly, avoiding his hand and forced my voice to remain calm.

"Hair grows back. It's no big deal."

Cayden nodded, though his expression tightened ever so slightly. "True. But you looked better with long hair. You should grow it out again."

I crossed my arms, the corners of my mouth lifting in a dry smile. "No. I'm used to short hair now. It's more convenient."

His lips thinned and for a moment, the Cayden I remembered peeked through—someone unaccustomed to being contradicted. His tone turned curt. "Suit yourself."

Without another word, he walked past me and into the living room. His movements were confident, almost too casual, as if he had walked these halls a hundred times before. The way he glanced at the furniture and decor made it clear: this house wasn't just a gift for me.

"Why did you call me yesterday?" he asked, lowering himself onto the sofa with the ease of someone settling into familiar territory. He rested one arm on the backrest, his piercing gaze flicking to me briefly before focusing on the room around us.

I leaned against the doorframe, watching him, the question hanging between us. Instead of answering, I countered, "When can I return to work?"

Cayden tilted his head, as if caught off guard by my directness. He seemed to think for a moment, but I knew better. Cayden was never indecisive. He had already made up his mind; this was all for show.

"Stay by my side," he said finally, his tone firm. "You're the person I trust most. You can help me handle important matters."

I looked down, my fingers curling into fists at my sides. Memories of the past crashed over me—the chaos, the victories, the betrayals.

***

The year Nathan and Cayden clashed head-on was the most chaotic period of our lives.

Nathan was a titan in the business world, untouchable in reputation and wealth. When Cayden first challenged him, Nathan barely acknowledged his existence. But we made sure he noticed us. Using connections from both sides of the law, Cayden and I dismantled Nathan's empire piece by piece. Factories, shipping lines, even his loyal allies—we took them all.

At the height of our success, we celebrated like kings. But it didn't last. Nathan struck back and this time, he had an ace up his sleeve—a traitor within our ranks. The evidence Nathan gathered was enough to put Cayden behind bars.

I'll never forget the look on Cayden's face when he first saw the reports. He paced his office like a caged animal, his usually steady hands trembling as he clutched the papers.

"Aubrey, what should I do?" he said, his voice breaking. "I can't accept this. I just can't!"

I watched as the man I thought was unshakable crumbled before my eyes. He grabbed me by the shoulders, his grip almost bruising. "This company is the result of more than a decade of our hard work!" His voice cracked and to my shock, tears streamed down his face.

I hesitated, my instincts warring with my heart. Then, slowly, I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. "We'll figure this out," I murmured, though deep down, I already knew the answer. There was only one way to save him and Cayden knew it too.

Three months later, I stood in court and took the fall for everything. The gavel came down and my world changed forever.

***

The first time Cayden visited me in prison, he sat across from me, his expression filled with guilt.

"Aubrey, the company is nothing like before now. I'm working hard to make it clean, so you won't have to worry about anything when you get out." His words were full of hope, as if he truly believed in the future he was building for us.

But the visits became less frequent as the years passed.

When he saw the bruises on my face from a fight in the yard, he clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white. "Aubrey, you've suffered so much because of me. I've made arrangements. This won't be a problem much longer."

Yet, despite his promises, his presence began to fade.

I still remember the last time I saw him through the glass partition in the visitation room. I had dressed neatly that day, my hair tied back, my uniform spotless. Cayden's expression was unusually stern.

"Aubrey," he said, his voice low but steady, "let's get married when you're out."

My heart swelled with a bittersweet ache. I nodded, holding onto his words like a lifeline.

But after that day, he never came again. His letters became shorter, his promises fewer.

Somewhere deep down, I had known all along. We were never meant to be.