Page 157 of The Jaded Notes

It’s been a week since we took a step back from one another, but I sense the judgment around me. I close the laptop with more force than necessary, but the silence that follows is worse than the online comment section.

My phone buzzes against the marble countertop. Callum’s name lights up the screen, and my chest tightens with a mixture of guilt and something I’m not ready to face.

I can’t believe I gave him my new phone number.I let his call go to voicemail.

When I was in Paris, I changed all my contact information, emails, phone number, and basically anything that tied me to California. But I’m not in Paris anymore.

When I returned home, I got a new local number under all new accounts and put my Paris phone in storage. My emails are still active because they’re all under Lehlani Rose Designs. All but one.

I wasn’t about to get rid of my Paris cell phone, though. There’s way too much on it, like sexy messages from Jax. Sure, he’s listed as “My King,” but I don’t want anyone to read them.

I have a special email account set up for the sole purpose of sending correspondence to Jax. No one could find it even if they tried because the account name is “Treasure King”. I thought it was meaningful, but now I want to roll my eyes at myself.

“Get a grip, Livianna. Jax made it perfectly clear today that work is his priority.” I spin off the stool and go wash my face and get ready for bed.

The bathroom mirror reflects a stranger staring back at me—smudged mascara, wild hair, and lips still swollen from the desert wind. I look like someone who’s been claimed in front of the world, and maybe that’s exactly what happened.

The makeup remover burns against my skin as I scrub away the evidence of tonight. Each swipe of the cotton pad reveals more of myself, but I’m not sure I recognize the woman underneath.

Another buzz. Another missed call from Callum.

Once I’m ready for bed, I find the letter before my brain catches up. It’s the one I keep folded in my jewelry box,creased soft from reading and rereading. Jaxon’s handwriting sprawls across expensive stationery, every word a benediction I never deserved.

Mon trésor,

You have heard me before, the way I feel about you. Not in words, perhaps, but in the weightless way the truth lingers on your skin.

The paper trembles in my hands. God, how long has it been since he wrote this? Months? It feels like a lifetime.

I’ve always been here…with you buried in my thoughts.

When your hands trembled with grief and you kept going…I was there.

When you laughed through the ache and made it beautiful…I was there.

When you sat in silence, wondering if anyone could ever really see you…I saw you.

Tears sting my eyes, but I can’t stop reading. I can’t stop torturing myself with words that feel like goodbye, even though that’s not what he meant. Or maybe deep down he did.

You, Livianna, are not what the world tried to name you. You are older than your doubts. Wiser than your wounds. Softer than your armor. And far, far more powerful than even you have dared to believe.

My phone buzzes again. Callum’s not giving up.

You didn’t come to be small, palatable, or predictable. You came to break open what was closed…in your family, in your line, and inthe hearts of others. You came to speak fire into dullness and turn shame into tenderness.

The words slice through me with surgical precision. He sees everything—all the broken pieces I’ve spent years trying to hide—all the ways I’ve rebuilt myself from embers and ash.

The way you design…is the way I walk beside you. Determined and fearless.

The way you love…is how I hold you. Gentle and brave.

The way you remember what no one told you…is how you know me. Deep and tied together by fate.

Fate. The word that used to feel like magic now tastes like mourning.

And I will keep showing you who you truly are…until you no longer doubt.

But what if I already doubt everything? What if tonight, standing on that stage while Callum sang my name to the world, I realized I still have questions?