I WAS NEVER YOURS

AMARA'S POV----- 

I knew something had changed the moment Julian stopped calling my name after we graduated.

Julian and I have been lovebirds since high school. We sat close to each other in class, ate from the same plate at the dining halls, and if it were possible, I could have also sneaked into his hostel at night just to sleep beside him. Well, that was just to tell you how close and inseparable we were.

Fast forward, Julian and I are in the same college, and a few hours after our graduation party, we had one of the best s*x sessions we have ever had in our entire situationship. 

He had me screaming his name in his penthouse as he s*ck*d my breasts while massaging my clitoris. 

"Hmmm…. Yessss babby." I moaned softly. He bit my nipple with the tip of his teeth. That act made me roll my eyes and bit my lips seductivelyy while releasing my nerves. 

"You're wet," he whispered into my ear, then he bent his head into my p*ssy and s*ck*d my clitoris

"Babyyy, please..." I had no idea why I was begging Every nerve in my body trembled from his touch. My n*ppl*s became so hard, and every brush of Julian's hands on them made me flinch.

"You are a seductress, and I like it." He spoke like he had surrendered his whole body to me. His d*ck was already hard, ready to thrust me deeply. I bent down, my nails crawling on through his thighs. Slowly, I put his d*ck into my mouth and gave him a deep-throat blow job. 

"Fuckk, I love it..." He screamed in his deep, masculine voice.  I looked at him as I s*ck*d. But then, his attention drifted for seconds, like something in his mind was pulling him away.

A few moments later, he carried me to the bed and laid me down.  He spread my thighs and tapped his c*ck on my clitoris before inserting it into my p*ssy.

"Ahhhh," I screamed.

"Is it too much?" he asked. I shook my head hurriedly and said.

"More babyy.." Then he slid in, and started thrusting.  I felt every thrust in the deepest part of my body. 

"Fa-fasterrr..." I kept on screaming. My nails were crawling through his back, my legs wrapped around his hips. He slammed in harder as my orgasm hit hard and fast.

"Arghh..Ar-Arghhhh...baby…. fuckkk,"

He continued to thrust, chasing his own release.  As his release drew closer, he removed his c*ck from my p*ssy and poured his c*m on my stomach. Then he collapsed beside me and immediately turned to check his phone.

"I enjoyed it," I said as I wrapped myself up in the duvet.  "Me too," He replied coldly.

He stood up immediately and went into the bathroom. I stayed in bed afterwards, and I could still feel his warmth on my skin. When he was done, he grabbed his towel, wrapped it around his waist, and then moved to the bar in the sitting room to get a glass of champagne.  I noticed Julian didn't smile or speak to me, but I didn't make too much of it as I thought maybe he was tired. I slipped into my flip-flops and went to have my bath.

Stepping out of the bathroom, l saw sipping his glass of champagne, quietly scrolling through his phone as he read articles on some business blogs. He runs one of the fast-rising start-ups in Valmere city.

Julian founded Risk Holdings during his final year in college after creating a small financial analytics software that helped struggling companies predict market risks before they collapsed.

"My company does it better," he said as he read one of the articles with a very serious look. He barely even looked at me.

----

There had been no argument, no accusation or dramatic ending where one person says something unforgivable and the other person storms out. It would have been easier if there were. Julian left nothing.

Later that night, he was standing by the window of his penthouse. His expression was calm and unreadable, but that night I had mistaken it for peace.

"You are thinking too much," I told him softly, walking towards him in my silk nightwear that revealed my breasts.  He didn't turn around immediately. When he did, his eyes held something distant. Like something already leaving. 

"Amara, we just graduated. I have a lot to handle now," he said, maintaining eye contact with me. It was not cold, but it wasn't affectionate either. It was neutral, and neutral is the most dangerous tone of all. 

I had grown used to loving him in undefined spaces. We had never labelled what we were. There were no public photos, no introduction as "girlfriend," no promises made in front of witnesses, just private emotions. We built a world with no name.

"Alright my love, I am preparing to leave, you'll call me tomorrow to check on me before my flight, right?" I asked lightly, pretending not to need reassurance as I wore my dress. Julian studied me for a second too long. A look I couldn't decode then, but now understand. 

"Of course," he said with a faint smile.  Of course. Two simple words. That was the last promise he ever made to me. 

Tomorrow came. He didn't call me at all. I tried calling him, but his phone was Do Not Disturb. The day after, I told myself he was busy. “Julian was always busy. He thrives on responsibility.“ By the third day, my texts remain unread.  By the fourth, my calls went straight to voicemail.  On the fifth day, I realized something terrifying. He wasn't unavailable. He was silent on purpose.

Silence is power when you know someone is waiting for your voice.  I did not cry immediately. That would have meant I understood what was happening. Instead, I defended him in my mind.

"He would never disappear for no reason, he couldn't, he wouldn't," I told myself it didn’t mean anything. I believed it—at least for a while. We had promised each other something once, back when we were younger and less complicated. Two ambitious teenagers sitting on a staircase after a school activity, speaking about their futures as if they were guaranteed.

“We’ll grow up and build everything together,” Julian had said, eyes bright with certainty. I had believed in him the way only young hearts can. Fully and without clauses.

But adulthood had sharpened him. Success had hardened him. And somewhere along the way, I had become the one soft thing in a life he preferred to keep disciplined.

Weeks passed. Then a month.

Julian did not return my calls. He did not send explanations. He did not offer closure. It was as if I only imagined them. And that was the worst part. No evidence of betrayal. No dramatic ending.

I saw him once during that period, on a business magazine cover at a café, where I had stopped by with a friend. His face was sharper and colder. The headline praised his latest acquisition, calling him one of the youngest rising stars in the corporate world.

I stared at the photograph longer than I should have. He looked untouched, as if nothing had been lost, as if I had not existed in the margins of his carefully structured life.

“Are you okay?” my sister had asked, looking concerned. I had forced a smile. “Of course.”Of course. It was strange how easily those words could lie.

The real ending did not happen in a confrontation. It happened quietly the day I stopped checking my phone every hour. The day I realized love should not feel like waiting for permission to matter.

I did not chase him. Not because I didn’t want to. But because somewhere deep inside my pride, I understood something important, if he wanted to explain, he would have.

The transformation did not happen overnight. It came in stages. I stopped visiting places we used to go whenever he visited me in my town. I stopped rereading old messages. I stopped replaying conversations in my mind, searching for hidden warnings.

I built new routines and applied for better jobs. Took evening courses to strengthen my skills.

The pain did not disappear. It reshaped itself into a discipline. I became quieter and more careful. Careful with hope and promises. Years passed, and the girl who once waited by her phone became a woman who didn’t wait for anyone.

When I finally received the job offer from Ardent Holdings, I accepted without hesitation.

It was one of the most competitive corporate firms in the city, ambitious and demanding, and known for developing leaders. I liked the challenge. I liked the thought of stepping into powerful spaces without being emotionally owned by anyone inside them.

What I did not know was that Ardent Holdings belonged to him. JULIAN VALE.

I discovered it on my first morning. The name was written boldly in silver letters in the lobby. The same name I had once whispered in the dark. For a moment, the air felt thinner. Then I found out he had changed the company's name as it grew.

But I did not turn around. I did not run. As the elevator doors closed and carried me upward toward the executive floors, my reflection stared back at me, composed, elegant, guarded.

I did not know how Julian would react when he saw me again, if he would pretend not to know me. I did not know if he would finally explain why he left. And I did not care either, or at least I pretended not to. 

But I knew one thing with absolute clarity: If he thought I was still the girl who waited for his voice to validate her existence… He was about to discover how wrong he was.

Before I could process everything fully, a tall woman in black heels suddenly approached me with a professional smile.

“You must be Amara Cole,” she said. “The CEO requested your attendance upstairs.”