Michelle
"Hey, sweetie," Mom greeted, kissing me on the cheek and pulling me into a tight hug.
"Hi, Mom." I smiled back, glancing over her shoulder to where Dad stood, quietly watching us. He just gave me a small nod and a faint smile.
As I stepped further into the mansion, everything felt strangely nostalgic. The grand staircase where I used to wait for Mom and Dad to come home. The bathroom floor where I cried out of loneliness. The dining table where I used to eat alone, pretending not to care—pretending that I'm fine and happy. Maybe I was being overly dramatic — it's only been four months since I moved to Washington, D.C. — but this place in Montlake, Seattle still felt like a time capsule. It took me two hours by Uber to get here, and suddenly, it feels like I never left.
I sat down across from Mom while Dad — George Winston — returned his sharp blue eyes to his plate, slicing neatly into his steak. From this angle, I could see how much I took after him. His defined jawline, the glasses perched perfectly on his nose, even the calm precision in every movement. I was practically his copy — except for the brown hair I got from Mom.
"How are your studies?" he asked.
"I'm doing great," I replied, forcing a small smile. "I'm taking a full load this semester so I can finish in about a year."
I picked up my fork and cut into my steak, realizing my hands were trembling slightly. The silverware suddenly felt heavier than usual.
Mom cleared her throat softly. "Sweetie, there's something important you need to know." She smiled, but there was something careful in her tone — too careful.
Here we go again, I thought. Probably another favor for the company.
"Yeah, sure. What is it?" I asked, trying to sound casual, though my voice was already shaking. I always get this way when I can sense something's off.
Dad set his knife down and wiped the edge of his mouth with a napkin.
"Joe Levine's daughter is moving into the Waterside Towers," he began evenly.
I frowned. "And who exactly is Levine?"
"He's our biggest investor," Dad said, glancing up at me. "His daughter's new to D.C. She'll need company to adjust — and it would be good if the two of you got acquainted."
I shifted my gaze toward Mom, who was quietly watching us. She must've seen the confusion written all over my face.
"So… you want me to befriend her?" I asked. "Dad, I barely even have time to see my best friend, and now you want me to—"
"This is all I ask of you," he interrupted, his tone firm. "After letting you choose what you want."
That shut me up. His stare cut through me, cold and precise. And just like that, the familiar guilt crept in.
"Honey, you don't have to talk to her like that," Mom said, her brows furrowed as she turned to Dad.
"Mom, no, it's okay." I gave her a small, reassuring smile, hoping she'd drop it.
We continued dinner in silence. I barely touched my food. It's been years since that accident happened, and yet every time I come back to this house, it's like the memories are still here — waiting for me in every corner. The laughter that turned into screams. The warmth that was replaced by cold walls. It's something I've always tried to run away from, something that left a permanent crack between me and Dad.
When dinner ended, Mom offered to let me stay the night, but I told her I had to study for my upcoming exams. Partly true — but mostly, I just needed space. I wasn't ready to face the ghosts in this house.
She smiled faintly, though I could see the sadness in her eyes. She's always been busy with the company, but at least she tries. She tries to make up for lost time. She tries to support my dream, even when it means fighting with Dad for it.
"Sweetie, I'm sorry for earlier," she said softly. "Your dad is just—"
"Tired," I cut her off. "I know. You've been saying that since I was seven."
Her lips trembled, and her eyes glistened with tears. "If only I could turn back time, Mich…" she whispered, her voice breaking before she took a deep breath to compose herself.
I didn't say anything. I didn't need to. I already knew what she meant.
Still feeling anxious, I asked Mom's driver to drop me off at New Jersey Avenue. By the time we reached Washington, D.C., I let out a shaky breath, watching the city lights blur against the car window. For the first time that night, I felt like I could breathe again.
I didn't want to go straight to my apartment, though. The silence there would only make me think more. So, I decided to walk — aimlessly, without a plan. People glanced at me as I passed, probably thinking I was just another girl fresh out of a breakup, wandering the streets with a tired face and messy thoughts.
I checked my wristwatch. 11 p.m. Great. The city was quieter than usual — just the soft hum of passing cars and the occasional chatter from a late-night diner.
Mom mentioned earlier that Mr. Levine's daughter had just moved into the Waterside Towers, too. I never imagined I'd be asked to play tour guide for someone I didn't even know.
Washington, D.C. — where dreams are supposed to start and yet—for me, it feels like I'm just trying to keep mine from falling apart.
After thirty minutes of wandering through the city, I found myself lost in thought — and maybe a little jealous. Lovers passed by, their hands intertwined, whispering sweet nothings only they could hear. The cold wind brushed against my skin like a reminder that I was alone.
The faint aroma of freshly baked bread drifted from the best bakery in the city, mixing with the cold autumn wind. It was comforting, in a strange way — like a hug I didn't know I needed.
I sighed, pulling my coat tighter around me. Every corner of D.C. seemed alive tonight — except me.
After a few more wandering thoughts, I finally decided to head back to my apartment and get some rest. The night air had sobered me up a little, not like I'm drunk though. But it's enough to remind me that I had classees, books and an entire life casually waiting for me in the morning.
When I reached my floor, I noticed a few empty boxes stacked neatly in front of the door next to mine. The door itself was slightly opened.
Hmm, new neighbor?
They must've moved in while I was gone earlier. I was trying to find the right angle to get a better view of the person inside when the door suddenly opened, and I froze.
Standing there was a man — tall, broad-shouldered, the kind of gorgeous that makes your brain short-circuit for a second, one that makes your thoughts go wild. And yet, I had a feeling that he's familiar.
"Do you need anything?" he asked, his voice deep and calm.
For a moment, I forgot how to speak.