From Shadow to the Longest Sun

Ethan slipped through the "Staff Only" door marked Rooftop Oasis. I followed on silent instinct.

The door stood half opened, left open for the breeze.

Celia waited beside the water pond, silk dress catching the city’s glow.

“That moonlight display?” she breathed, melting into his arms. “Romantic enough to make me seethe. I watched from up here—practically burning with envy.”

Ethan’s lips brushed her temple. Smirk sharp as shattered crystal.

“Didn’t I give you one just as grand last week? What’s there to envy?” His fingers tightened on her waist, backing her against the wrought-iron pergola draped in jasmine. “Play your part. Don’t slip around Lena. Everything she has? You’ll have it too.”

Now I remember.

Five nights ago, crimson meteors streaked across New York’s southern skyline, a blood-magic spectacle.

He’d texted: “Clan emergency. Working late.”

I’d sent a photo, teasing:

“Who’s the showy fool splurging magic on romance tonight?”

Now I knew.

He was the fool who summoned the stars.

And I was the fool who believed his lies.

Celia traced his jaw. “Can’t I be jealous? You were devouring her with your eyes.”

“Didn’t you say you had something… good for me?” His voice dropped to gravel.

Her laugh, rich in honey and smoke. Hips rolling against the pergola post.

“Only if you unwrap it yourself.” Lips grazing his ear: “Guaranteed to make you forget her name.”

His pupils drank the moonlight as jasmine petals scattered underfoot. Fabric tore with a sharp rip, the sound stolen by the wind.

“Mine,” he rasped against her throat—the word both vow and violation.

“Ethan… harder…” Her moan, polished to perfection; a choked sob blurring pleasure and performance.

Every whisper drove a needle into my chest.

I stood frozen behind the bamboo screen left askew in their haste. My blood ran colder than the grave. Tears fell hot with betrayal, splattering the cold stone.

I’d witnessed this betrayal once before.

Yet hearing it again, the raw hunger in his voice, the calculated cadence of her cries—my still felt shattered. Dull. Agonizing.

The first year after my Embrace, he held me and whispered:

“Every anniversary, I’ll clear my calendar. Only you.”

A single text from Celia, and he abandoned every vow. He scrambled to this place like a starving man.

Just how deep does his addiction to her run?

I closed my eyes.

Buried the storm inside.

Three more days.

Hold on.

Then it ends.

I didn’t return to the banquet.

I went straight to the penthouse on Fifth Avenue—his wedding gift to me.

Past midnight, drifting into half-sleep,the door slammed open.

Ethan stood there, jaw tight.

Only when he saw me in bed did his shoulders loosen.

“Why didn’t you tell me you left?” He pulled me close, chin resting on my crown. “I went back. Scoured the whole damn ballroom. Almost lost my mind.”

I glanced at the digital clock—3:00 AM.

I’d left at 11:00 PM.

Four hours tangled in that car.

How pathetic I was.

“I wasn’t feeling well. Went home to rest. Forgot to tell you.”

Lying used to paralyze me.

Now it slipped out smooth as silk.

Ethan still trembled faintly.

He locked me against him—as if loosening his grip meant I’d vanish.

“Next time, never disappear without a word. Promise me, sweetheart? If you vanish, I’ll tear Manhattan apart stone by stone.”

I shut my eyes,said nothing.

In three days, I’ll vanish to a place you’d never imagine.

A land where the sun scorches, poverty chokes hospitals, no nightclubs, no blood banks.

You won’t follow. And you can’t.

The next morning—

perhaps guilt gnawing at him—Ethan sent a jewelry box.

An heirloom from some European dynasty.

Pearls glowed softly in the sunlight.

“Sweetheart. Last night was my fault. Don’t be angry.”

I glanced at it. Set it aside.

From the drawer, I took a small black box. Handed it to him.

“I’m not angry. This is your anniversary gift. Open it two days later.”

I’d commissioned a gold locket and brooch to match his tailored suits. But the moment I stepped out of his office yesterday, I hurled them into the furnace.

I replaced them with my wedding ring, that would be the last thing I ever gave him.

He took the box, curious.

“Yesterday was the anniversary. Why wait two days?”

I smiled.

“Special surprise inside. Only works if you wait.”

His eyes lit with anticipation.

“Alright. I’ll follow your rules.”

Before the words faded, a knock came at the door.

It swung open and Celia stood there.

Tear-streaked face trembling.

Lashes clumped. Cheeks flushed.