Chapter 2 Ashes and Answers

The cold air bit against Ariella's skin as she stepped out of Liam's house, no, Vanessa's house now. Her heels clicked down the marble steps, but she didn't feel them. The tulips were still behind her, discarded like her hope, and the sun was dipping lower, streaking the Hamptons sky in fiery hues that mirrored the chaos inside her.

She didn't cry. Not then. Not yet.

She was lost in thought of how she carefully planned her return, every daydreamed moment, had been swallowed whole by a single image: Liam on one knee, offering forever to someone else. To Vanessa.

Instead, she walked until her legs begged her to stop. She didn't hail a cab, didn't check her phone, didn't speak to a soul. She kept moving, as if walking fast enough could erase what she had seen.

Eventually, she found herself sitting on a bench outside a quiet café tucked into a leafy corner of the Hamptons. The patrons inside looked too polished, too happy, too untouched by betrayal. She didn't go in.

Instead, she opened her phone, out of habit, maybe, or desperation and tapped on her photo gallery.

The screen lit up with memories. Parisian streets, studio sketches, museum trips, sunsets from her apartment balcony. And then an older folder.

Childhood.

She scrolled.

Pigtails and paint-stained fingers. Sleepovers. Matching bracelets. The lakeside picnic with her, her dad, and Leila.

She paused. It was her childhood best friend.

Leila Ashford.

They'd been inseparable once. Her best friend, her shadow, her safe place. But somewhere in the haze of grief and time, they had lost touch. Where is she now? Ariella wondered, heart aching for something that hadn't felt broken until this moment.

She opened her social media app and typed "Leila Ashford."

The profile popped up instantly, Same soft curls, same dazzling smile, now with a feed full of curated home designs and cozy date nights with a man tagged Marcus Ashford. Her most recent post read: "Grateful for peace, for love, and for old friends I'll never forget."

Ariella's fingers moved before she could overthink.

Hey, it's Ariella. I'm back in town. Can I see you?

Leila's reply came in seconds.

Ari?! Oh my God. YES. Where are you?? Here's my address. Come over. Please.

Attached was a contact card and an address still in the Hamptons, not far from where Ariella was now. Her heart pounded as she ordered a cab.

For the first time since the heartbreak, she had somewhere to go.

Leila opened the door before Ariella could knock.

"ARI!"

Ariella barely had time to breathe before she was wrapped in the tightest, warmest hug she'd felt in years. It undid her. The sob she had swallowed since Liam's betrayal escaped her lips, and she clung to Leila like she was the only thing holding her together.

Leila didn't let go.

They stood there like that, two women holding a decade of joy, sorrow, and missed years between them until Leila gently pulled her inside.

The Ashford home was tastefully serene. Soft lighting, earth-toned furniture, subtle hints of luxury. It felt lived in, loved. A place of peace.

Leila guided her to the couch and wrapped a throw blanket around her shoulders. "Do you want tea, wine, hot chocolate, whiskey, name it. Or I can just sit here with you and say nothing."

Ariella managed a teary laugh. "Tea. Please."

While Leila bustled in the kitchen, Ariella looked around. Framed photos on the console. Leila and Marcus at their wedding, him in a tailored navy suit, her glowing in lace. They looked happy. Real.

Leila returned, setting the tea gently on the coffee table. She sat beside Ariella and didn't rush her.

"I didn't know where else to go," Ariella whispered.

"You're exactly where you should be," Leila said. "You're safe."

They sat in silence for a while, sipping tea. Ariella's hands trembled. Leila noticed but didn't comment. She waited until Ariella was ready.

Eventually, Ariella began.

"I went to see Liam. I didn't tell him I was coming. I thought... I thought it'd be this amazing reunion. I even brought tulips."

Leila's eyes softened. "And instead?"

"He was proposing to Vanessa. My stepsister. In his living room. Champagne, people cheering... it was like I walked into a nightmare."

Leila didn't gasp or overreact. She just reached out and held Ariella's hand tighter.

"I'm so sorry."

Ariella blinked hard. "He ghosted me, Leila. No calls, no replies. I thought something happened to him. I waited."

"I know you did."

More silence.

Then Leila let out a long breath. "There's something I need to tell you, too."

Ariella turned to her, eyes wary.

"I tried to find you," Leila said softly. "When your dad got really sick. I called you so many times, but it just kept saying unreachable. I even went to your house."

Ariella's eyes widened.

"I saw him, Ari. He was weak, but he smiled when I came. He said you were living your dream. He told me to tell you he was proud."

Ariella covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking.

"I couldn't reach you," Leila continued, tears in her voice now. "And when things got worse, your stepmother wouldn't let me in. Vanessa threatened to call security if I came back."

Ariella's blood ran cold.

"I begged for your number. I even checked your Instagram, Facebook, nothing. It was like you vanished. And when the news broke that he... that he passed, I begged them to tell me how to reach you. They refused."

Ariella was speechless.

"I went to the funeral," Leila whispered. "They said you weren't coming. I figured they lied. But I saw where he was buried. I can take you there."

Ariella nodded, too stunned to speak.

That night, after the tea had cooled and the ache of everything had dulled to a slow, quiet throb, Leila showed Ariella to the guest room. It was cozy and feminine in soft beige walls, warm lighting, a small bouquet of dried lavender on the nightstand. The bed was already made with crisp white sheets.

Ariella sank onto the edge of the bed, the weight of the day pressing heavily on her shoulders.

"You okay?" Leila asked gently from the doorway.

Ariella looked up and managed a tired nod. "Better now."

Leila stepped in and sat beside her. "I'm glad you reached out. I've thought about you so much these past few years. Wondered what you were doing, who you were becoming."

"I missed you too," Ariella whispered. "I just didn't realize how much until I saw that picture."

Leila smiled faintly. "Crazy how childhood photos know when to haunt us."

Ariella laughed softly, then her voice broke. "It hurts, Leila. Not just about Liam, but knowing my father died thinking I abandoned him. That I wasn't there to hold his hand at the end."

Leila reached for her hand. "He didn't think that. He knew how much you loved him. He told me so."

That helped. A little.

They sat for a moment longer before Leila stood. "Get some rest. We'll go see him first thing in the morning, alright?"

Ariella nodded. "Thank you. For everything."

"You don't have to thank me. You're my sister, Ari. Always have been."

When the door closed gently behind her, Ariella slipped under the covers and rolled over, hugged the pillow tight, and for the first time in a long time, allowed herself to cry, not just over Liam, but over all of it. The loss. The missed moments. The girl she used to be.

And eventually, she slept.

Not peacefully.

But deeply enough.

The next morning was cloudy, the kind of grey that mirrored Ariella's mood.

Leila drove them in silence. The cemetery was quiet, tucked behind an old stone chapel fringed by weeping willows. Ariella gripped the bouquet of lilies in her lap, his favorite.

They found the grave easily.

Alexander Voss.

Beloved father. Visionary. Dreamer.

Ariella stood frozen, then knelt.

Leila stepped back, giving her space.

"Hi, Daddy," Ariella whispered.

"I'm sorry, Daddy,"

"I tried. I swear I tried."

"I flew back to surprise Liam but he surprised me instead. He's marrying Vanessa. Your wife's daughter." Her voice cracked. "They betrayed me. Just like she betrayed you."

Her tears soaked into the earth as she poured her heart out, about Liam, the betrayal, the heartbreak, the shame. About graduating with honors and no one to celebrate it with. About spending nights alone in Paris while mourning a man who had always believed in her.

"I kept designing," she said finally. "Kept going because of you. You told me to make the world my canvas... and I will. I promise, I will."

And then the floodgates opened.

She told him everything. About Paris. About the award. About the exhibit. About the loneliness. About how she tried to reach him. About how she missed his voice. How she'd trade every accolade just to hug him again.

She didn't know how long she sat there, minutes, hours. Time blurred.

By the time she stood, the lilies were at the base of his grave, and her heart felt a little lighter. Not healed but open.

Back at the Ashford home, Marcus was waiting on the porch.

Tall, dark-skinned, with intelligent eyes and a calm presence, he greeted her with a respectful nod. "It's good to finally meet you, Ariella. Leila's told me everything."

"Thank you for having me." Ariella replied.

Marcus shook his head. "This is your home for as long as you need."

Inside, they sat over a warm lunch. Marcus was quiet but observant, and when Ariella mentioned she wasn't sure what to do next, emotionally or professionally, he leaned forward.

"I work as an IT consultant. Corporate stuff, mostly. But I've got some contacts in media and digital security. Some of your family's mess hit the tech circuits too. Catherine's trying to scrub the Voss name, but... she's not as good at covering tracks as she thinks."

Leila gave him a warning glance, but Marcus shrugged.

"Leila told me what happened, and well... I think we might be able to help."

"Help how?" Ariella asked.

"First, we can try to retrieve your old accounts, email, see what was blocked or altered and If you're thinking of fighting back, reclaiming your legacy, just know you've got people. Second, you've got a killer design portfolio, right? We can build your own website. Start fresh. Control the narrative."

Ariella blinked. "You'd do that for me?"

He nodded. "You're family here."

Leila beamed. "Told you he was the best."

And for the first time in a long time, Ariella smiled. She felt a fragile sense of belonging. Her return had started in ruin, but somewhere between old friends, buried truths, and kind strangers, the ashes of her pain began to settle.

And from them, something new stirred.

Not love. Not yet.

But maybe the beginning of a comeback.