Santorini changed me. Not just the salty air or the blue-and-white walls that framed our moments, but him. Denzel. The way he held me under Grecian stars, touched me with unspoken reverence, kissed me like it would undo something inside him. I didn't want it to end. I thought maybe—just maybe—this wasn't just a vacation. Maybe he was opening his heart.
We landed back in the city, and I was still floating. I had a phone full of pictures, a body that felt worshipped, and a mind brimming with daydreams. I posted a few snapshots on Instagram despite everything that happened online before. I didn't care about the whispers anymore. I was done hiding.
In the car, I tried to draw Denzel out. He was quiet, eyes locked on the skyline like it held answers. I thought maybe he was tired. Maybe the trip had taken more from him than I knew.
"You've been quiet," I said, reaching for his hand.
He didn't say anything. Just gave me a tight smile that never touched his eyes.
Fine, I thought. Maybe he just needed space.
At home, the bodyguards brought up my mountain of luggage. I looked around my place—everything felt different now. Smaller. Like it no longer fit the girl I was before Santorini.
Zoey showed up before I could even finish unpacking.
"You! You vacation goddess!"
She burst through my door like a whirlwind of perfume and sunshine, arms wide.
I laughed, letting her pull me into a hug. "I missed you."
"You missed me? Girl, I've been living in your comment section. Do you even realize what you looked like in those beach pics? Ethereal. Like Aphrodite on her day off."
I rolled my eyes. "Stop."
"No, seriously. That white dress photo by the sunset? I had to sit down. I thought you were getting proposed to."
I froze for half a second before forcing a laugh. "Nothing like that."
"Yet," she added, winking. Then her tone softened. "You look happy, Star. Like... really happy. He did that?"
I nodded. "Santorini was... something else. It felt like he wasn't the CEO. Just... a man. And me, not a contract. Just a girl he wanted."
Zoey grinned. "You're glowing."
She stayed a while longer, sifting through my shopping bags, laughing at every little souvenir I brought back. She didn't suspect a thing. Neither did I.
The next day, I got a message.
Denzel: Be ready at 5. I want to show you something.
I wore a pale blue sundress, soft and flowing. My hair was still loose from sleep, but I didn't try too hard. I thought it was a continuation of our vacation magic.
When he arrived, he didn't speak much—just kissed my cheek and led me downstairs.
We drove in silence to a private estate on the outskirts of the city. A quiet space filled with green hills and evening light.
"Where are we?" I asked.
"Somewhere quiet."
We walked toward a gated area, and there, parked like a dream under fairy lights, was a white convertible with a red ribbon around it. Sleek. Elegant. Beautiful.
"What is this?" I whispered.
"Happy birthday, Star."
I blinked. "But my birthday is in a few days—"
"I wanted you to have it now."
Emotion lodged in my throat. "Denzel... it's beautiful. I don't even know what to say."
He handed me the keys without a word. I stared at them, confused. Something in his eyes shifted—tension under the surface.
"You're the first person I've ever bought a car for," he murmured.
"That sounds serious," I joked, trying to make him smile.
But he didn't.
Instead, he stepped closer. His hand slid to my waist. "Come inside."
There was a small cottage nearby. Simple and warm. He led me to the bedroom. The lights were low, golden against the white linen sheets. He kissed me like he was memorizing me. Every touch was tender, slow, as if time had slowed with it.
Clothes fell. Skin met skin. He touched me like I was something breakable. We moved together with soft moans and whispered names, as if we were saying goodbye without knowing it.
But he knew.
Afterward, when we lay tangled in silence, I turned to him.
"You okay?"
He didn't answer for a long time. Then:
"My parents never really knew how to love me," he said. "But my grandparents did. They raised me with... enough."
I blinked at the shift in tone. "You've never talked about them."
"They're the only people I still visit on holidays. They keep asking to meet you."
I smiled, heart lifting. "Really?"
He nodded, then sat up, back tense.
"Star... I need to tell you something."
My chest tightened. "What is it?"
He looked down at me, eyes shadowed. "This... what we have... was never supposed to go this far."
I blinked. "What?"
"I made rules. For a reason. And I broke them. I let you in."
My heart started racing. "Denzel—"
"I can't do this. Not when I feel this way. I thought I could keep it casual. But I can't. And I'm not the man who can give you the kind of love you deserve."
I sat up, blanket clutched to my chest. "So what? That's it? You spoil me, kiss me like I matter, and then just... end it?"
He reached out, brushing my hair from my face. "I'm ending it now, before I fall deeper. Before I ruin you the way everything else in my life turns to ash."
Tears stung my eyes. "Don't I get a say?"
He leaned down, kissed my forehead gently. "You deserve more than a man who's afraid to love you."
And just like that, the warmth of Santorini faded.
He gave me a car.
And took away the only thing I truly wanted.
Him.