The Silence Between Our Hearts

Chapter One

Ethan Scott first saw Mia Hughes on the night of her twentieth birthday party.

The Hughes family was absurdly wealthy, and the celebration was held at The Royal Crown Hotel, right in the heart of downtown Manhattan. The ballroom was elegantly decorated, with blush-pink roses flown in from abroad, trailing from the entrance all the way to the center of the hall. The guest list boasted the city’s elite: tycoons, celebrities, aristocrats—men and women dressed in sleek gowns and sharp tuxedos, clinking glasses and laughing under the golden light.

As Mia descended from the second floor in her evening gown, the upbeat piano music came to an abrupt stop. Ethan heard the murmurs of astonishment around him and looked up—only to see the girl in the soft blue dress coming down the stairs, holding up her hem.

Her gown was custom-made, a pale blue silk adorned with shimmering crystal stars. Her long, wavy hair cascaded down her back, and her delicate face wore tasteful makeup. But she didn’t look happy—her lips were pursed, and the polite smiles she offered appeared only fleetingly.

Then came the tedious round of social rituals. Mia followed Mr. Hughes like a product on display, enduring compliments and scrutiny with a stiff smile. She barely masked her boredom—until her father brought her to the Scott family.

The Scott elders were all present, including Adrian Scott, who was dressed in a pristine white tux and black bow tie. He smiled warmly at her.
“You look stunning tonight, Mia,” he said, before adding, “Come, let me introduce you to our family.”

Everyone understood what that meant.

Mia, raised in high society, wasn’t naive. She gave him a teasing glance.
“Adrian, let’s skip it, shall we? You know I have face blindness.”

Adrian, unfazed by her refusal, took her hand in his and leaned in close.
“Are you just being shy?”

Mr. Hughes and Adrian’s father were chatting over drinks nearby. Seeing the young pair holding hands, they chuckled approvingly.

Mia gritted her teeth. She tried to pull away, but Adrian held firm, dragging her toward a group of elders. She jabbed her nails into his palm out of protest, barely noticing when he suddenly veered them into a quieter corner.

“Mia,” he said, still smiling, “this is Ethan Scott—my half-brother. He grew up outside the family...”

Adrian kept rambling, but Mia’s eyes wandered—and locked onto a pair of striking, dark eyes.

She had never seen eyes like that—sharp, deep, and glowing like distant stars. Her gaze drifted down to his face—perfectly carved features, but his expression was utterly cold. There was no warmth in his eyes, only indifference.

“That’s your half-brother?” Mia quipped. “Strange... he’s far better-looking than you.”

Adrian was in the middle of painting a tragic tale of Ethan’s upbringing when he caught her jab. He stiffened, but before he could respond, Mia had already slipped free and offered a quick smile.
“Excuse me—I need the restroom.”

Adrian stood frozen, his expression darkening, while Ethan returned his glare with an icy look and casually walked off.

Mia, still holding her dress, hurried toward the restroom like she was fleeing. Once inside, she stripped off the fancy gown, threw on jeans, a T-shirt, and a baseball cap. Ducking out through a side hallway, she finally exhaled in relief. Humming a tune, her steps grew light and playful.

But a few strides in, she stopped cold. A figure stood at the end of the dim corridor.

She reached for the wall, her voice unsure.
“Who’s there?”

A soft flick—then the click of a lighter. A small flame lit up the dark, revealing a stunningly handsome face, shadows dancing across his features.

It was Ethan Scott.

Mia clutched her chest in mock horror and laughed.
“God, it’s just you.”

The last of her fear vanished. She walked down the corridor and stopped in front of him. With a playful glint in her eyes, she asked,
“Wanna grab a drink?”

Ethan, a head taller than her, looked down through the dim light. Her carefree smile glimmered under the hallway’s faint glow. He answered,
“Why would I drink with you?”

Mia grinned.
“Because you’re like me. You’re not happy either.”

Chapter Two

It wasn’t until later that Ethan Scott found out the truth—
The night Mia Hughes invited him out for drinks, she was actually running away from an engagement party carefully orchestrated by both of their families.

The bride had fled, and the event quickly turned into chaos. Mia’s bold defiance was a slap in the face to both the Hughes and Scott families. Mr. Hughes was furious, sending people across the city to find her.

Meanwhile, Mia and Ethan were tucked away in a narrow alley of the city, seated in a quaint little bar that she had clearly never stepped foot in before. Her wide-eyed curiosity said it all.

“This place is so pretty,” she said, glancing around.

The bar had a vintage charm—warm yellow lights glowing beneath old red lanterns that swayed from the ceiling. Ornate wood-framed windows were left open, and in the distance, you could glimpse the shimmering lake.

Mia ordered a few pitchers of wine and some bar snacks. Then she turned to Ethan, grinning as she playfully asked,
“Can you drink? If not, at least talk to me.”

Ethan stared at her quietly. He wasn’t one for small talk. At first, he’d intended to say no, to walk away. But Mia was relentless—bright, bold, and effortlessly disarming. Even when he stayed silent, she filled the air with stories, chattering about her favorite foods, her love of singing, and how much she adored watching snow fall.

The wine wasn’t strong, but after a few glasses, she was visibly tipsy. Her dark eyes shimmered as she looked at him.
“Ethan,” she whispered, “why doesn’t it ever snow here?”

He remained silent, his expression unreadable. But when she reached for another drink, he suddenly caught her wrist and said softly,
“That’s enough. Time to go home.”

Her brows furrowed as she pouted, a smile still tugging at her lips. There was a cloud of sadness behind her drunken eyes. She tilted her head at him, confused and sluggish, then slowly stood up. Stretching out a pale, delicate finger, she poked his cheek and muttered,
“I’m not drunk. I’m not going anywhere.”

He hadn’t expected that.

Before he could react, she was already in his space. Ethan’s eyes narrowed as he caught her hand. Under the low amber light, he saw it—tiny teardrops clinging to the corners of her eyes, catching the light like fragile crystals. She looked impossibly soft, almost fragile.

They were close—too close. He could hear her breathing, feel her warmth. For a second, he lost himself in those tear-glazed eyes. Then he stepped back, forcing himself to pull away.

“If we don’t go now, your family’s going to lose their minds,” he said coolly.

Mia tilted her head and gave him a half-smile.
“Are you scared?”

He said nothing.

She rolled her eyes.
“You sound just like your brother. Always so dramatic.”

But Ethan wasn’t being dramatic at all.

Both families were, in fact, in a full-blown panic. The Scott family had hosted the engagement party, and Mia was supposed to be their future daughter-in-law. Her disappearance was more than just embarrassing—it was scandalous.

No one had expected that she’d leave with Ethan Scott.

By the time they returned, she had sobered up a bit from the night air. As Ethan’s car pulled up outside the Hughes estate, two entire families stood waiting, their faces tense and confused. But Mia looked calm—composed, even. She sat upright in the passenger seat and turned to Ethan.
“Sorry,” she said lightly. “That was... messy of me.”

She looked every bit the composed heiress once again.

Ethan kept his gaze fixed outside the window, his face unreadable.

Just before stepping out of the car, Mia paused.
“I’ll tell them it was my idea,” she said. “That I made you take me.”

He didn’t respond.

She studied his stoic profile, wondering what was going on behind that impassive mask. He was such a mystery, always locked behind a wall she couldn’t climb. Just as she was about to close the door, his voice—low and cold—cut through the silence:

“He’s not my brother.”

Mia blinked, stunned for a second. Then it clicked—he meant Adrian Scott.

She gave him a cheeky little grin.
“Well, isn’t that funny? He’s not my fiancé either.”

Cutting ties? She could do that too.
Besides, there had never really been anything between her and Adrian.
No love. No choice.
And she sure as hell wasn’t about to marry someone she didn’t love.

Chapter Three

The second time Mia Hughes saw Ethan Scott was also at a hotel owned by the Scott family—but not The Royal Crown Hotel. This one was just a standard five-star venue, tucked away in the suburbs. The decor was forgettable, but the view from the 25th floor, where the banquet was held, made up for it.

Unlike the last time, when she'd been suffocated by the weight of a forced engagement, tonight Mia walked in with a spark in her eyes. Her long black hair flowed freely, and the breeze caught the hem of her sheer chiffon dress as she strode forward like she owned the room. A waiter guided her party in, and that’s when she spotted Ethan across the hall, quietly speaking to an older gentleman.

He wore a slate-gray tailored suit, sharp and unapproachable. His profile was all angles and cold perfection. Just as Mia approached, Ethan looked up. Their eyes met—just briefly—before he turned away again.

Mr. Hughes stepped forward to greet the Scott family elders. After a few polite exchanges, he turned to Ethan.
“So this is the third one, huh? Handsome kid,” he said with a meaningful smile.

Mia didn’t notice her father’s tone. Her eyes were fixed on Ethan, who stood slightly apart from the others, arms by his sides, detached and distant.

As Mr. Hughes continued his small talk with the elders, he chuckled.
“So... you're officially announcing it tonight? Well, that’s good. It’s about time.”
He gave Ethan a friendly pat on the shoulder.
“Do your best, son. Don’t let your grandfather down.”

Mia’s smile faded as her brow creased. She knew a little about Ethan’s situation. Though he lived under the Scott family roof, he had never been formally added to the family registry. That explained why she had never seen him at any of their previous functions.

But truthfully, Mia had known Ethan long before tonight.

Back in college, she had seen him at a graduation gala—a striking, effortlessly elegant young man. She’d fallen hard, but pride held her back. She’d tried to find out more about him but never mustered the courage to approach. Before she knew it, he’d graduated and disappeared from campus life.

She never imagined that the next time she’d see him again, he’d be standing here—formally introduced as the Scott family's third son.

While her father mingled with the guests, Mia retreated to a quiet corner. She half-listened to the idle chatter of the women nearby—predictable gossip about dynasties and arranged marriages. What caught her attention, though, was learning that tonight’s birthday celebration was for Ethan Scott.

Shortly after, Mr. Scott Sr. made it official. Standing before the crowd, he announced Ethan’s identity and his new role in the Scott Corporation. People applauded warmly. Ethan stood still among them, surrounded by smiling elders and well-wishers.

But his lips were tight, and his eyes were cold. There wasn’t even a flicker of joy in his expression.

He must be miserable, she thought.

Mia didn’t know why she needed to find him—maybe it was instinct. She wandered through the party in heels, circling for what felt like forever until her feet ached. Finally, she found him alone on the rooftop terrace.

Ethan turned at the sound of footsteps. Mia stood in the golden glow of the rooftop lights, a soft smile on her lips.
“There you are,” she said breezily. “Took me forever to find you.”

He held a wine glass in one hand, swirling the red liquid absentmindedly. His long fingers moved with casual grace.
“Who was looking for me?” he asked.

She pointed to herself with a smirk.
“Me.”

She walked a little closer, then hesitated as she looked down from the edge of the terrace. The height made her dizzy, and she stepped back quickly.
“I didn’t know it was your birthday. Come with me—I’ve got something to show you. Call it a gift.”

Ethan’s eyes, dark and unreadable, narrowed slightly. Maybe he’d had too much to drink.
“I don’t need a gift from you,” he said flatly.

He turned to leave, clearly uninterested in a conversation. But then a small hand tugged on his sleeve. Irritated, he looked back—only to find her eyes shimmering, soft and pleading.

“Just... keep me company,” she said gently. “I’m not having a great night either.”

What does that have to do with me? he thought, but something about her gaze made him pause. For a moment, he just stood there, unsure. He reached up to remove her hand, but she held on tightly.

It was the first time he felt so… helpless.

He exhaled and said quietly, “Let go.”
Then after a beat, added, “I’ve been drinking. I can’t drive.”

Mia grinned, patting her chest like she was making a solemn promise.
“Don’t worry. I drove. I’m a great driver.”

So this time, they didn’t sneak out. Ethan followed Mia to the underground parking lot. On the way, they ran into Adrian Scott. Mia, ever the composed socialite, greeted Adrian with a polite nod and smile.

She didn’t see the flash of cold resentment in his eyes.

Chapter Four

Mia Hughes drove with a steady hand. Ethan Scott sat in the passenger seat, leaning against the window, eyes closed as if resting.

She couldn't help but sneak glances at him. His features were sculpted—flawlessly symmetrical, with porcelain skin, a sharp nose, and a faint beauty mark near the corner of his eye. His lips were full, the kind that practically begged to be kissed.

That thought alone made her cheeks flush.

As if sensing her gaze, Ethan spoke with his eyes still closed.
“Keep your eyes on the road.”

Mortified, Mia snapped her attention back to the wheel and didn’t dare look at him again for the rest of the drive.

About thirty minutes later, they arrived at the coast. The night air was quiet, peaceful—only the rhythmic crashing of waves against rocks could be heard. The breeze was salty and cool, brushing across their faces with a gentle sting.

“You’ve never seen the ocean this late at night, have you?” Mia asked with a mysterious grin. She pointed out toward the water. “Give it five more minutes—you’ll see the moon on the sea.”

It was the kind of overly sentimental thing a girl would say, but Ethan didn’t mind. Not even a little. He gave a soft hum of acknowledgment, keeping his gaze fixed on the still water, letting his thoughts drift.

Mia tugged him to sit beside her on the sand, then ran back to the car and returned with a full case of beer. She popped one open and handed it to him, her eyes sparkling mischievously.
“A scene like this needs a drink, right?”

She cracked one open for herself and took a greedy gulp.
“It’s not cold,” she mumbled through the foam, “because your stomach’s sensitive.”

Ethan’s hand froze around the can. His gaze sharpened slightly.
“How do you know that?”

Mia froze for a beat, the grin slipping from her face. Of course, she wasn’t about to tell him she’d already known everything about him back in college.

Caught off guard, she looked away, choosing silence instead.

Just then, a soft glow appeared on the surface of the water. A ring of light gradually formed across the dark sea—and within that halo, a full moon began to shine.

Mia practically jumped up in excitement, grabbing Ethan’s arm.
“Look, Ethan! Your moon!”

It was only a reflection—light from a city tower bouncing off the surface of the water as it rotated. But it was beautiful nonetheless. The moon looked so close, like it could be caught with an outstretched hand.

Mia chugged her beer with a satisfied sigh, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
“This is my secret,” she said, grinning. “Whenever I’m feeling low, I come here alone to see the moon.”

Her happiness was simple, glowing at the edges of her eyes.

Ethan took a slow sip from his can and finally broke the silence.
“A girl like you comes out here alone… aren’t you afraid?”

She blinked, then smiled.
“Of course I’m afraid. But I don’t have many friends.”

She said it so casually, like it wasn’t supposed to hurt.

Then, she leaned in closer, eyes locked on his.
“Will you be my friend?”

Ethan didn’t reply.

He rarely did. There was a stillness in him, like frozen water. But Mia couldn’t help being drawn to it. His silence didn’t annoy her. Instead, she just smiled again and said,
“How about I sing you a song, then? Consider it a birthday gift.”

She paused, then added with a teasing glint,
“You play guitar, right? You could be my accompanist.”

Without waiting for an answer, Mia ran back to the car and returned with a guitar. Ethan took it from her slowly, his fingers brushing the strings like he hadn’t touched one in years. He stared at her—so many questions on the tip of his tongue—but in the end, he said nothing.

His personality didn’t allow it.

He hadn’t played in a long time. But somehow, his chords blended perfectly with her voice.

Mia sat cross-legged on the sand. Above them stretched the stars. Before them, the sea shimmered in moonlight. And she sang.

The song was in Spanish—soft, lilting, like a lover’s whisper.

She sang it over and over, assuming Ethan couldn’t understand the lyrics. But if translated, the words would tell the story of a girl secretly in love with a boy, who never quite noticed.

That was Mia.

She had always loved Ethan Scott. Quietly. Deeply.

But he never knew.

That night, her voice eventually grew hoarse, the melody trembling on the wind. Ethan continued to play, stealing glances at her between notes. And without even realizing it, his eyes were full of something they had never held before—

Tenderness.

But Mia never saw it.

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