Done Hiding as Your Backup Plaything I'm Shining Golden as a Queen - Chapter 75: Chapter 75

Jayden couldn't fucking breathe. His hands were shaking so violently he could barely hit the pause button, freezing the video on that goddamn heart monitor with its flat, merciless line.
Silent tears poured down his face, hitting the floor like rain.
"No," he whispered to the empty room, his voice completely wrecked. "No, this isn't real. You're not fucking dead, Arianna. You don't get to just... leave."
He was talking to the paused screen like she could somehow hear him, like this was all some sick, elaborate prank.
"Are you punishing me? Is this because of what I said to you? Because I take it back, okay? I take all of it back! I didn't mean any of it!"
His legs buckled and he collapsed onto the couch, staring at that frozen image until his vision blurred with tears. The monitor showed her final heartbeats—frantic, desperate, fighting, then... nothing.
Nothing at all.
Exhaustion hit him like a freight train. He fell asleep clutching her diary against his chest, her last words pressed against his heart.
The next morning, his phone screamed at him from the coffee table. Unknown number. He lunged for it, instantly wide awake, hope exploding in his chest.
Maybe it was her. Maybe this whole fucking nightmare was just—
"Jayden? It's Harper. Harper Portman."
The hope died so fast it felt like someone had ripped his heart out through his throat.
"Hey," he managed, his voice like sandpaper.
"I heard you were back in town." Her voice was gentle, careful. He could hear traffic in the background—probably driving to work at whatever hospital had hired her. "Yesterday at the reunion was... God, I can't imagine how that felt. I just wanted to check on you."
"I'm fine," he lied, because what else was he supposed to say?
"Jayden..." She sighed. "Look, I know we never really talked about this in high school, but I always knew you were completely gone for her."
His throat closed up like someone was strangling him.
"I spent three fucking years throwing myself at you, and the whole time I could see it written all over your face—you were head over heels for Arianna Carter. Even after what happened with your dad, even when you were so pissed at her you could barely look in her direction... you never stopped loving her."
Jayden pressed his palms against his eyes, trying to stop the tears that wouldn't quit coming.
"And she was just as gone for you," Harper continued softly. "Jesus, the way that girl looked at you when she thought nobody was watching. Like you were the only person in the entire world. She spent three years just... orbiting around you, hoping you'd see her the way she saw you."
"I did see her," he choked out. "I saw everything."
"I know you did. That's what made it so heartbreaking to watch. You two were so obviously meant for each other, and then everything went to hell and..." She trailed off. "I'm sorry, Jayden. I'm so sorry you never got the chance to make things right with her."
After Harper hung up, Jayden sat in the suffocating silence of his childhood home, drowning in ten years of memories he'd tried so hard to bury.
He'd always known exactly how Arianna felt about him. Just like she'd always known how he felt about her.
They'd just been too scared, too young, too fucking proud to do anything about it.
And now it was too late. Now she was gone and he'd never get the chance to tell her he loved her back.
Around noon, something from Arianna's diary nagged at him—her mom had taken her somewhere upstate. If that package had come from there, maybe she was still alive. Maybe everyone was wrong.
Maybe there was still hope.
The three-hour drive through winding mountain roads felt like the longest journey of his life. When he finally found the address, his heart was trying to beat its way out of his chest.
Mrs. Carter looked like she'd aged decades since he'd last seen her. Her hair had gone completely silver, and there were deep lines around her eyes that spoke of years of unbearable grief.
"Jayden?" She blinked like she was seeing a ghost. "Oh my God, look at you. You're so grown up. Come in, sweetheart."
Her tiny living room was exactly what he'd expected—neat, modest, filled with furniture that had probably been there for generations. But his eyes went straight to the mantelpiece, where a framed photo of Arianna smiled back at him.
High school uniform, hair caught mid-laugh, looking young and vibrant and so fucking alive.
It was clearly a memorial photo.
His stomach dropped to his shoes.
"Look at you," Mrs. Carter was saying, fussing around getting him water like she used to when he was a kid. "What do you do for work now?"
"I'm a cardiac surgeon," he said automatically, tearing his eyes away from Arianna's picture.
The irony was like a knife to the gut. He'd become a heart doctor, but he'd been too late to save the only heart that had ever mattered.
Mrs. Carter's whole face lit up with the same pride she used to show when Arianna brought home straight A's. "A doctor! That's incredible, Jayden. I always knew you'd do something amazing."
Then her expression shifted, becoming distant and heartbroken.
"You and my Arianna would be the same age now. Twenty-seven. If she were still with us, she'd be so proud of what you've become."
The words hit him like a physical blow. "What do you mean 'if she were still with us'?"
Mrs. Carter went completely still, her face draining of color as she really looked at him for the first time.
"Jayden... honey... you do know what happened to her, don't you?"
"No!" The word exploded out of him. "No, I don't know what happened because nothing fucking happened! Where is she? I need to see her!"
Mrs. Carter's hands started shaking. "Oh, sweetheart—"
"She's here, isn't she?" He was on his feet now, panic making his voice crack. "ARIANNA! I know you're here! Stop hiding from me!"
He bolted toward the hallway, Mrs. Carter calling his name behind him, but he couldn't stop. He slammed open the first door he came to.
And his world ended.
It wasn't a bedroom. It was a fucking shrine.
Arianna's things were everywhere—her books, her clothes, that ratty stuffed elephant she'd had since she was five. But dominating the small room, sitting on a table surrounded by wilted flowers and flickering candles, was a large black-and-white portrait.
The same photo she'd ordered on graduation day.
The funeral photo she'd requested while he stood there calling her dramatic.
Below it, engraved in simple block letters: "Arianna Rose Carter. Beloved Daughter. February 14, 1998 - June 8, 2015. Forever in Our Hearts."
Jayden's knees hit the floor so hard he felt the impact in his bones.
She was really gone. She'd been gone for ten years, and he'd never even known.