(Author's note: you can skip the prologue and move directly to the 1st chapter if you want to)

Nova's Pov

A few months later,

"Ugh, what a nightmare," I mutter to myself as I dab at my eyes with a tissue, careful not to smudge my carefully applied makeup. I'm supposed to be enjoying this fancy schmancy party, mingling with the city's elite and making connections that will surely boost my career. But all I can think about is him.

"Nov, what's wrong?" Karla asks, her brow furrowed with concern as she steps closer to me. "You've been crying all night. Is everything okay?"

I shake my head, unable to meet her gaze. "I shouldn't have fallen in love with him," I whisper, my voice cracking. "It was stupid and reckless and now I'm paying the price."

Karla sighs, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "Here we go again," she says, her tone a mix of exasperation and sympathy. "You know you can talk to me, right? I'm not going to judge you."

I nod, leaning into her embrace. Karla has been my rock throughout this whole mess, the one person I can always count on to listen and offer a shoulder to cry on.

"It's not just a one-sided crush," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. "He loves me too. I know he does. But we can't be together. It's impossible."

Karla frowns, her eyebrows drawing together in confusion. "Why not? If you both love each other, what's stopping you?"

I shake my head, tears welling up in my eyes once again. "It's complicated," I say, my voice choked with emotion. "There are things you don't understand. Things I can't explain."

Karla squeezes my shoulder, her touch comforting and warm. "I'm here for you, Nov," she says softly. "No matter what. You made a mistake by walking away without even talking to him, but it's not too late to fix it."

I try to focus on Karla's words, but my mind is a jumbled mess of emotions and memories. I can't even begin to process her questions, let alone come up with a response. So instead, I do what any self-respecting woman would do in a time of crisis: I start critiquing the fashion choices of the men at the party.

"Did you see that guy's shoes?" I ask, pointing discreetly at a man across the room. "Who wears white loafers with a tuxedo? It's like he's trying to channel his inner Hugh Hefner."

Karla chuckles, shaking her head in amusement. "Nov, you're impossible. Here you are, crying your eyes out over some guy, and you're more concerned about fashion faux pas than your own heartbreak."

I shrug, sniffling quietly as I dab at my eyes with a tissue. "It's easier to focus on something else," I admit, my voice small and vulnerable. "If I start thinking about him, I'll just fall apart all over again."

Karla nods, her expression softening with understanding. "I get it," she says, giving my hand a squeeze. "But you can't run from your feelings forever. Sooner or later, you're going to have to face them head-on."

I sigh, my gaze drifting over the crowded room. "I know," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "But right now, all I want to do is forget. Forget about him, forget about us, forget about the love that we can never have."

Karla opens her mouth to respond, but before she can say a word, I'm already moving on to my next target.

"And what's with that guy's tie?" I ask, pointing at a man in a garishly patterned necktie. "It looks like he raided his grandpa's closet and decided to wear every tie he found."

Karla laughs, shaking her head in disbelief. "Only you could turn a heartbreak into a fashion critique," she says, her tone equal parts amused and exasperated. "But hey, if it helps you cope, I say go for it."

As I stand there, critiquing the fashion choices of the men around me, my mind suddenly snaps back to Damien. I can't help but imagine what our life would be like if he hadn't done...

If only he hadn't been so stupid, so careless, so... so... Ugh, I don't even know anymore. I'm just so tired of thinking about it, of trying to make sense of something that doesn't make any sense at all.

Part of me wishes that he had just been leading me on, stringing me along with false promises and empty words. At least then I could hate him, could blame him for breaking my heart and shattering my dreams. But this... this situation is so much worse.

Because the truth is, I love him. I love him with every fiber of my being, and I know that he loves me too. But we can't be together, not now, not ever.

I was the one who made the decision to walk away, to end things before they even really blossom. I told myself it was for the best, that we could never make it work anyway. But now, standing here in this crowded room, surrounded by people who don't know me, don't understand me, I'm not so sure anymore.

Maybe I should have fought harder, should have tried to find a way to make it work. Maybe I should have talked to him, really talked to him, instead of just running away like a coward.

But it's too late now. The damage is done, and there's no going back. I made my choice, and now I have to live with it.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself, to push down the ache in my chest that threatens to consume me whole. I can't let anyone see me like this, can't let them know how much I'm hurting.

So I plaster on a smile, a brittle, fragile thing that doesn't quite reach my eyes. I straighten my shoulders and lift my chin, determined to face the world with a brave face, even as my heart is breaking inside.

And as I do, I can't help but wonder what might have been. What our life could have been, if only things had been different. If only he hadn't been so... so...

But I can't finish that thought. It's too painful, too raw. So I push it down, bury it deep inside where it can't touch me.

And I keep on smiling, keep on pretending that everything is fine. Because that's what I do best. That's what I've always done.

Even if it kills me inside, even if it breaks me into a million tiny pieces.

As I stand here, lost in my own thoughts, I can't help but think about the girl I used to be. The girl with big dreams and even bigger ambitions, the one who was determined to conquer the world and make her mark.

What happened to her? When did she get lost, replaced by this lovesick version of myself who can't think about anything but him? It's like I've forgotten how to be me, how to chase my goals and dreams without worrying about what he's thinking or feeling.

And it's not like I regret loving him. How could I? He brought out the best in me, challenged me to be better, to strive for more. With him, I felt like I could take on the world and win.

But now, without him, I'm lost. I don't know how to move forward, how to keep pushing towards my goals when my heart feels like it's been ripped out of my chest.

I'm so deep in thought that I hardly notice the waiter approaching with a tray of hors d'oeuvres. He smiles at me, his eyes lingering a little too long on my cleavage.

"Can I get you anything, miss?" he asks, his voice smooth and practiced.

I shake my head, waving him away without even looking at him. "No thanks," I mutter, my mind still consumed by thoughts of Damien.

The waiter shrugs, moving on to the next guest. But before I can sink back into my own world, another man approaches me.

"Care to dance?" he asks, his breath reeking of alcohol.

I wrinkle my nose in distaste, taking a step back. "No, thanks," I say firmly. "I'm not in the mood."

He scowls, clearly not used to being rejected. "Come on, don't be like that," he slurs, reaching for my hand.

I yank my hand away, glaring at him until he backs off. "I said no," I snap, my patience worn thin. "Leave me alone."

He holds up his hands in surrender, stumbling away in search of another conquest. I watch him go, shaking my head in disgust.

Guys like that are the last thing I need right now. All I want is to be left alone with my thoughts, to figure out how to pick up the pieces of my shattered heart and move on with my life.

But as I stand there, watching the party swirl around me, I can't help but feel like I'm drowning. Like I'm being pulled under by the weight of my own emotions, and there's nothing I can do to save myself.

I close my eyes, trying to block out the noise and the chaos. Trying to find that girl I used to be, the one with the big dreams and the even bigger determination.

She's still in there somewhere, I know she is. I just have to find her again, have to remember who I am and what I want.

But right now, all I can think about is him. And how much I wish I could turn back time, erase the mistakes we made and start over again.

But life doesn't work like that. There are no do-overs, no second chances. All we can do is learn from our mistakes and keep moving forward, even when it feels like the world is crumbling around us.

So that's what I'll do. I'll pick myself up, dust myself off, and keep fighting. For myself, for my dreams, for the girl I used to be and the woman I want to become.

But just as I'm starting to feel like I've got this whole "strong, independent woman" thing figured out, my phone rings, startling me out of my thoughts.

My heart races as I fumble for my phone, Veronica's name flashing on the screen. I answer quickly, pressing the device to my ear.

"Veronica? What's wrong?" I ask, my voice laced with concern since she was pregnant.

But before she can respond, I hear her sobbing on the other end of the line. It's a sound I've grown far too familiar with over the past few months.

"Nova, please," she begs, her voice cracking. "I need you. I need to see you right now."

I sigh, glancing around the party. I should stay, should keep up appearances and schmooze with the city's elite. But how can I possibly say no to Veronica in her state?

"Okay," I relent, knowing full well the chaos that awaits me. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

I end the call and make my excuses, slipping out of the party as smoothly as possible. The cool night air hits my face as I step outside, a welcome respite from the stuffy confines of the ballroom.

As I walk to my car, I can't help but wonder what fresh drama awaits me.