Second Love Story

Leaning against the cold railing of his room balcony, Ash Cooper stared out over the sprawling garden below. The lights of downtown flickered like distant stars, but they did nothing to ease the growing weight in his chest. The evening air was cool, carrying the distant hum of traffic and the occasional sound drifting up from the estate employees. On any other night, he might have found the scene comforting—grounding, even—but tonight was different. Behind him, the spacious house felt too quiet, too empty. The large windows that lined the walls reflected the modern furniture, the clean lines, and the polished floors, but they also mirrored the emptiness he had been trying so hard to ignore. His entire life was shifting, and for the first time in years, Ash felt like he had no control over where things were headed. Clara Cooper, his aunt and the only family member who had stood by him for the past decade, was leaving. She had been his pillar, his compass, ever since his mother—Clara's sister, Marie Cooper—passed away when he was just sixteen. Marie had been a force of nature, both in business and life, and her death left a gaping hole in Ash's world—one that Clara had done her best to fill. Now, Clara was moving out, retiring to the countryside, far away from the city and far away from him. Ash closed his eyes, letting the night air calm the rising tide of anxiety within him. He wasn’t ready for her to leave. A knock on the heavy oak door of his room broke through his thoughts. He didn’t respond, but the door creaked open, and Clara let herself in, just as she always did. The sound of her footsteps drew out an emotion Ash hadn’t expected to feel tonight—melancholy. He didn’t turn, but he knew it was Clara. Her movements were always light and graceful, as if she glided through life with an ease, which he both admired and envied. "Are you really going to sulk out here all night?" Clara’s voice broke the silence, soft but teasing. "You could at least pretend you’re excited about this new chapter for me." Ash opened his eyes and turned around, leaning back against the railing. Clara stood in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest. She was once a celebrated photographer, especially for her keen sight of beautiful things, even her casual look had a natural elegance—a simple black long-sleeve turtleneck top and lounge pants. She had always been effortlessly composed, the kind of woman who could command a room without saying a word. "I’m not sulking," Ash replied, though the tightness in his chest made it feel like a lie. "I’m... just processing." Clara’s expression softened. She walked over to him, her eyes scanning his face. "I know this is hard for you. Believe me, I get it. But you don’t need me to manage the company anymore. You’ve been running Eunison better than I ever could. You’re more than ready to take it all on." Ash sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "It’s not the company I’m worried about." Clara tilted her head, her dark curls falling over her shoulder as she regarded him with a knowing look. "Then what is it?" He didn’t answer right away, unsure how to articulate the fear gnawing at him. After years of burying himself at work during the day and losing himself in parties at night, he had found a way to manage his grief. But Clara’s departure felt like another loss—one he wasn’t sure how to handle. "I don’t know," he said finally, the words heavy. "Maybe I’m just not ready to be alone." Clara smiled softly and reached up to cup his cheek, a gesture both motherly and gentle. "You won’t be alone, Ash. You’ve got friends, people who care about you. And you’ll have a full house soon enough." Ash frowned, confused. "What do you mean?" Clara took a step back, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Ben and Iva are moving in. Didn’t I mention it?" Ash felt the air leave his lungs. Benedict Johnson and Iva Grand. His long-estranged father and his stepmother, who he had never met properly. It had been four years since Iva married Ben, and Ash had kept his distance. He hadn’t even attended the wedding, too consumed by old resentments and the weight of losing his mother to accept someone else stepping into her place. "No," Ash said, his voice tight. "You didn’t mention that." Clara gave him an apologetic smile. "I must have forgotten. I called Ben a few days ago. There will be a lot to manage as the new CEO, and you could use a pair of trusted hands. And Iva has been waiting to meet her stepson properly... They'll not be here for long, just a couple of years." Ash’s frown deepened. "And Ben?" Clara paused, her gaze holding his for a moment longer than necessary. "Ben knows you’re not thrilled about him. But he wants to try. He’s been trying, Ash. For the past four years." Ash shook his head, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I don’t want him here." "It’s temporary," Clara said gently. "Besides, you don’t have to spend every moment with them. I just think it might be good for you... to connect with Iva. She’s been waiting for an excuse to see you." Ash remained silent, his jaw tight. He couldn’t shake the unease creeping through him. The memories of his father, of the complicated emotions surrounding his mother’s death and Ben’s absence during his time of need, swirled through his mind. And with those thoughts came the memories of someone he hadn’t allowed himself to think about in years. Violet. Clara cleared her throat, clearly sensing the tension in the room. "Look, I won’t push. I just thought... maybe it’s time to start moving forward. You can’t keep avoiding them forever. And you have a new sister to bond with, too." Ash looked at his aunt, the woman who had been his closest ally for the past decade, and sighed. She was right, even if he hated to admit it. But the thought of sharing a house with Ben and Iva—and the possibility of meeting this so-called sister—felt like a storm he wasn’t prepared to face. "Fine," he said after a long pause, his voice resigned. "I’ll deal with it." Clara smiled, reaching out to squeeze him in her arms. "That’s all I’m asking." --- The next day, later that evening, Ash stood at the door of Clara’s room as she packed the last of her belongings into a large suitcase. The room felt empty without the familiar clutter of her photography equipment—the rolls of film and stacks of photographs that once lined the walls were now packed away. Despite her departure, Clara had left some of her clothes behind in the closet, a small reassurance that she wasn’t truly gone. "I still can’t believe you’re really leaving," Ash said, leaning against the doorframe. Clara glanced at him, a small smile on her lips. "I’ve been talking about it for months. And you didn’t believe me?" "I just didn’t think it would happen so soon," Ash replied. Clara zipped up her suitcase and turned to face him, her expression thoughtful. "It’s time for me to go, Ash. You don’t need me to hold your hand anymore." Ash smirked. "I think you liked holding my hand." Clara chuckled. "Maybe. You were sweet and cute back then. You're still sweet, but now you’ve got a company to run, parties to throw, and... apparently, a stepfamily drama to deal with." "Great," Ash muttered, though the playful tone in Clara’s voice made him smile despite himself. He quipped, "I’m still cute, aren't I?" Clara’s laugh was immediate. "Nope. Totally not." As she walked over to him, Clara reached out and hugged him tightly, holding him a moment longer than usual. "I’m so proud of you, Ash. You’ve come a long way." Ash swallowed the lump in his throat and hugged her back. His voice sunk low and shaky, "I’ll miss you." "You’ll visit," Clara said, pulling back to give him a teasing smile. "The countryside isn’t that far anyway." "I’ll visit," Ash promised, though he knew the mansion would feel empty without her. As much as he hated to admit it, this was the next step—one he couldn’t avoid. "Take care of yourself," Clara said softly, her eyes serious now. "Ben may have found new people he calls family, but you are still his focus, Ash. And don’t let the past get in the way of your future and happiness." Ash nodded, though the gnawing feeling in his chest told him the past was already creeping in. As Clara’s car disappeared down the street, Ash stood in the driveway, the weight of her absence already settling on his shoulders. He walked back into the now-empty mansion, his footsteps echoing in the vast space. The thought of Ben and Iva moving in gnawed at him, stirring up memories he had long tried to bury. Something was coming—he could feel it. --- Marie Cooper, his energetic and adventurous mother, had died suddenly in a tragic skydiving accident. His father, who had insisted on investigating the cause, had spiraled into grief and wandered off to the places they had once dreamed of visiting together. In the wake of his parents’ absence, Ash had felt utterly lost, mentally and emotionally. Clara had returned, abandoning her career as a renowned photographer to step in as both Ash's mother and the CEO of Eunison—a luxury car brand that's been manufacturing a variety of high-end cars for more than 100 years. By the time Ash graduated from high school, he had become cold and distant, with a carefully constructed mask of control. Clara was the only one with whom he had ever felt truly at home. But during his second year of university, something shifted—he softened, just a little. Clara had noticed. It was Violet who had done that. Then, in the space of three short years, everything fell apart. Ash blamed Ben for the way things ended with Violet, even though his father had never been directly involved. But the anger, the grief, the confusion—it had all found an easy target. As Ash strolled through the garden, his thoughts tangled and knotted with the past, he heard the butler, Thomas, approach. "Sir," Thomas said in a clear, polite tone, "just to let you know, the dinner is ready." "Yeah," Ash muttered as he made his way to the dining table. But before the maids could serve him, he stood abruptly and headed toward the stairs. "Please bring some wine to my study," he said to Rita, one of the maids, his voice quiet, almost weak. Sherin, the senior maid, brought a bowl of potato soup to Ash’s study. "That’s not wine," he said, annoyance apparent in his voice. "You're right, sir. It's a potato leak soup with some broccoli and peas added," Sherin replied respectfully. "Drinking alcohol on an empty stomach isn’t good for you. Please finish this, and I’ll bring the wine immediately." Too exhausted to argue, Ash downed the soup in one gulp and handed the bowl back. When the wine arrived, he poured it to the brim of the glass and drank deeply, ignoring his low tolerance for alcohol. The burn of the wine stirred up old memories, the kind he had spent years trying to forget. On the other side of the city, Ben was finalizing plans with Iva and her daughter. The three were preparing to leave their home and move into the Cooper Mansion. And Ash wasn’t sure he was ready for any of it.