Sinful Hearts

6:45 a.m.…

I settle into my living room, eyes glued to the television, coffee cup in hand. It only takes a few seconds for the weather report to start, and there she is.

Aria Simone, the most captivating woman I've ever had the pleasure of seeing.

Every morning, it's the same routine, every evening too, practically all day long. I watch the weather, I hear her voice, I absorb everything she says as if it were a cure for misery.

Moreover, she's dressed in an ivory suit that complements her ebony complexion, her hair is gathered in a tight bun. Her gold jewelry makes her look like a goddess.

“Today, the rain is pouring down relentlessly… so remember to take some time to find shelter and stay dry,” she replies with a smile that makes my head spin.

I nod, as if she were speaking directly to me. I know it's for everyone, but I can't help but feel that every sentence she says is meant for me. I have a vague feeling that her gaze could pierce me through the screen. I lean forward as soon as she smiles, foolishly trying to imprint that image in my mind.

I mentally note every gesture she makes as she points at the map, that forced smile she's surely spent hours practicing. Her ability to smile with complete sincerity still eludes me.

I want to know what it's like to be the man of such a woman…

The commercial break snaps me out of my thoughts. I mentally scold myself for missing the end of the newscast and for feeling this inexplicable emptiness. I leave immediately and, with a fluid motion, open the app where she's most active. She just posted a photo of herself backstage—as she does after every newscast.

She smiles faintly, holding a cup of tea—her favorite—script in hand. Comments are already pouring in under the photo. I prefer not to read them, because last time, I nearly searched for each of those despicable men who comment with vile things about her.

My alarm snaps me back to reality. My viewing time is up; it went by faster than expected. I always allow myself fifteen minutes to watch Aria.

It's a rainy morning, just as Aria said. Besides, I like this atmosphere; it gives me a sense of comfort and security. It's still early, so San Francisco is shrouded in mist and a light rain. Since my office is only a few minutes' walk away, I walk there to enjoy the weather. So, I walk through the rain-soaked streets at a steady pace, my shoes splashing in the small puddles.

Stopping at the corner café, I grab a few cups of coffee—the same order every time. I finally reach our office building, and Jeff, the doorman, is already there, smiling. I hand him one of the still-warm cups.

"Thank you, Mr. Leighton," he smiles. "Have a good day."

"I certainly hope so; it's a beautiful day today," I reply.

Jeff gives me a skeptical look before smiling. It's true that for most people, the weather is awful. I greet the people I pass, give a caramel latte to Amanda, the receptionist, and another to Diane, my secretary.

"Is Devon here yet?" I ask Diane.

“Mr. Spears hasn’t arrived yet. He said he had to take Lisa to school today.”

I nod and head back to my office.

Devon Spears and I are the owners of Ardent & Co. We met over fifteen years ago at architecture school and have been inseparable ever since. While Devon is more methodical and composed, I’m more creative with a knack for marketing.

After college, we each worked separately—me for my father—before deciding to strike out on our own. So, we created Ardent & Co., which reflects our passion for the profession. I still remember what Devon said that day: ‘We’re passionate, aren’t we? We don’t do things halfway. We’re… ardent. Hence, Ardent & Co.’”

Even though I was hesitant at first, we quickly embraced the somewhat whimsical name.

Settling into my desk, I begin my day's tasks, lost in a sea of ​​contracts and plans. When Devon finally arrives, he enters my office without knocking—as usual. He tosses me a paper bag, which I catch smoothly. I immediately smile, knowing it's my lunch.

"I don't know why my wife keeps ordering your meals," he almost snarls.

"Because Melinda is wonderful and an angel, unlike you," I reply. "Besides, she's the best thing that's ever happened to you, besides your daughter."

He rolls his eyes, but knows I'm right. I still remember the moment those two met. Devon and Melinda got married as soon as we finished our studies. Now they're the proud parents of my favorite niece, Lisa, who just turned ten.

"Maybe it's time you found someone too," he suggests.

I look up at him, simultaneously raising an eyebrow. "No, thank you."

"You're still obsessed with that woman, Atlas. If you like her so much, why don't you go tell her you're a fan?" he suggests.

My heart skips a beat at the thought of meeting Aria in real life. Personally, she's just an illusion of a life I'd like to have, not something real. I roll my eyes, smiling nervously. He's going to tease me for another twenty minutes, great.

“Yes, of course, all I have to do is knock on the weather channel door and say, ‘Hello, I’m here to marry your presenter.’ Very realistic, thanks for the advice.”

Devon bursts out laughing, but it’s not funny at all. Besides, he knows how hard it is for me to live like this, trapped in this illusion.

“Do you think I should see a therapist?” I ask suddenly. Devon clears his throat before answering. “Melinda thinks you should start demonstrating. Maybe Aria Simone will notice that you’re the first to like all her photos.”

“Have you told Melinda? It was a secret between us!” I exclaim, stunned.

" I’ll have you know, she’s my wife. You’d understand if you had one. That said, you spend all your time clicking on every notification about this woman, you watch the weather replays—who does that, honestly? I'm sure Mel knew before I even told her."

"That's great..."

"Atlas, seriously, I think you should see someone. It's not normal that you're so attached to this woman you've never even spoken to. How long has this been going on? Three years? You're my brother, don't waste your life on an illusion."

I don't say anything more. I've already tried to fix it, to go a whole day without looking at the weather. I felt like I could hear Aria's voice repeating the forecast in my head. I'm completely crazy.

The day passes with plans and projects. Immersing myself completely in my work allows me to not think about her, to avoid checking my phone for notifications from her. I couldn't stop thinking about my conversation with Devon. He's right, I should end this parasocial relationship with Aria. She doesn't even know I exist, and I doubt she'd like to know there's a man fantasizing about her like a teenager going through puberty.

"Mr. Leighton," Diane calls. "I'm leaving, it's getting late."

I look at my watch and see it's already 8:00 PM. The poor woman always stays late so she doesn't leave me here alone.

"Of course, you can go. Have a good evening."

"You too, sir... Don't work yourself to death."

I just smile, and then she leaves. I'm alone in the office, Devon having already gone to join his wife and daughter. No one is waiting for me, not even a four-legged companion. My life is incredibly boring, Aria is the only thing that interests me outside of work.

I turn on my phone and go to the weather channel. I click on the first video of Aria that pops up—the one from this morning. My gaze falls once more, now calm and focused.

Then I notice it.

A ring on her left ring finger.

I pause the video. The silence of my office hits me like a ton of bricks. No. No, I must be dreaming. I zoom in. Again. Again.

Damn.

My heart is doing something weird, like plummeting in an elevator. It's delicate and understated, but I can't tear my eyes away from that piece of jewelry. A ring there can only mean one thing.

So, she has someone in her life—she's married—. She's not alone. I feel my heart clench terribly. I restart the video, listening to her announce the rain, smiling. The world is so much grayer than before, and I'm starting to hate the rain.

Okay… I'm happy for her, she deserves to be loved. I pause the video, my throat tight. I wish it had been me.

I put the phone back on the desk, but my eyes remain glued to the frozen screen. To her smile. To that tiny ring that just extinguished a feeling inside me. Nothing big, right? Just… that silly little thing that sometimes warmed me in the morning. A comfortable fantasy. An illusion.

I close my eyes for a moment.

What kind of guy married a woman like her? What's he like? Smarter? Funnier? More… everything?

I shake my head, annoyed with myself. However, I have no right to think that. None. But it still stings. It stings in a spot I didn't know was sensitive. A laugh escapes me, more painful than ever. More than anything. What was I thinking, honestly? That she was suddenly going to walk into my life and tell me she loves me? Shit, I'm such an idiot.