MATTHEW The hospital hallway smelled like antiseptic and cold air. Maren sat beside Elisse, both of them quiet, both watching the closed door to Lucian’s room. The ambulance ride had been tense—Lucian had barely been conscious, sweating, mumbling, gripping his head like it was going to split open.When the doctor finally stepped out, Maren stood immediately. Elisse stayed in her seat, her hands clenched in her lap."Doctor, how is he?" Maren asked, voice tight.The doctor sighed, removing his mask and folding his arms. "Physically, he's stable now. But there’s something else… more complicated."Maren blinked. “What do you mean?”The doctor motioned for her to step aside. They moved a bit farther down the hallway, just out of Elisse’s earshot.“He’s exhibiting signs of memory trauma," the doctor explained quietly. "Not just amnesia. His brain waves are fluctuating erratically, especially in the areas related to long-term memory. That high fever might have triggered it—or worsened some
It was an ordinary afternoon—sunlight dripping lazily through the college trees, a soft wind teasing the scattered leaves on the pavement. Matthew was carrying a box of supplies to the maintenance room, minding his own business, when something—someone—caught his eye.Elisse.She stood across the quad near the old gym, her arms folded, weight on one leg, eyes narrowed. She was talking to someone—arguing maybe. But from where Lucian stood, he couldn’t see the guy’s face. Just the back—tall, lean, dressed in a gray hoodie and dark jeans.Elisse looked like she was giving the man an attitude. Her hand sliced through the air as she spoke, her brows drawn tightly together. The guy didn’t seem bothered. He just stood there, calm, his head tilted slightly like he was waiting for her to finish.Lucian couldn’t hear what was being said, but the tension was obvious.And strangely… something about the way Elisse looked at the guy made Matthew’s chest feel tight.Not jealousy—he wasn’t the type to
Four Years LaterThe wind swept gently through the open fields, carrying the scent of fresh earth and wildflowers. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over Annie’s farm, where rows of crops stretched endlessly and chickens clucked somewhere in the distance.Lucian stood by the fence he had helped rebuild years ago, sleeves rolled up, a thin sheen of sweat on his brow. He leaned against the wooden post, watching the horizon like he always did at the end of the day. Not searching anymore. Just… appreciating.He had stopped calling himself Matthew.Not because he hated the name. Not because he had forgotten.But because Lucian felt more like home now.The past had come in flashes over the years—little pieces of a life he once lived. But they never stayed long. And somewhere along the way, he stopped chasing them.He had peace here.He had a purpose.And he had people.“Lucian!”He turned to the voice. Elisse.She was walking toward him with her usual bounce, carrying a bas
The sound of crashing waves.That was the first thing he heard.Then came the sting of salt on his lips. The burn in his lungs. His body felt heavy—like it had been dragged out from the depths of the sea.He gasped sharply, coughing up water he didn’t remember swallowing. His eyes blinked open slowly, vision blurred by the blinding light above him. Everything looked white. The sky. The sand.A face hovered over him—panicked but strangely soft.“Hey, hey… you’re okay,” the woman said gently, pressing a hand to his chest as if trying to keep him grounded. “You’re safe now.”He blinked again, throat raw as he struggled to speak. “W-Who…”“Shhh... don’t talk yet,” she whispered. “You nearly drowned. I found you on the shore. You’ve been unconscious for hours.”He tried again, fighting through the haze in his head. “What… what happened?”She hesitated. “You don’t remember?”He searched his mind. Anything. A name. A face. A reason.But it was blank.Utterly blank.“I don’t know,” he whisper
I was supposed to be in the kitchen.Cooking Noel’s favorite breakfast—some overcooked eggs and lukewarm instant coffee, just the way he liked it. That was part of the act, after all. Sweet, obedient Matthew. The man who came back for him.But the moment I passed the hallway near his study, I heard something.A voice—his voice. Low. Urgent. Serious.I paused, steps light, careful not to creak the wooden floor. His door was half-open. A mistake, maybe. Or maybe he didn’t think I’d ever eavesdrop. I never used to.But that was the old me.Now I was desperate.And desperate people learn to listen.“No, do it now,” I heard Noel hiss over the phone, anger coating his voice. “Right now, while he still doesn’t know anything.”My body tensed. I held my breath.There was a pause. Then his next words came out like venom—“He doesn’t know that Eloise is still alive… so kill her. I want you to kill her!”My ears rang. I took a small step back as if physically struck.“She needs to die—especially
The morning after, I woke up to the dull ache of guilt in my chest—and the taste of vodka still bitter on my tongue.Noel was still asleep beside me, one arm flung over my waist like I might disappear if he let go. His face was peaceful, tear-stained, but finally quiet. As if, for once, the voices in his head took a break from tormenting him.I stared at the ceiling, still. Frozen.His words from last night echoed inside my skull like a curse."Please… choose me again, love… I’m begging you…"And maybe the most terrifying part of it all was that for a split second… I almost did. I almost believed it would be easier. To just pretend. To stay.But I couldn’t. Not really.Because even if Eloise was gone, even if she wasn’t waiting for me out there anymore, I still belonged to the version of myself that loved her. The man who fought for her. The man who promised her everything.And Noel—he was not part of that promise.I slowly peeled his arm off me and sat up. The room was still dim, the
The silence was deafening.I sat in the corner of the room, knees pulled close to my chest, eyes fixed on the cold, steel door that separated me from freedom—or whatever was left of it.My throat was dry, my thoughts racing.How did I end up here?Just a few months ago, I was in the city… fighting with Eloise, crying over her, grieving the loss of our marriage, our love—even if it was already fractured beyond repair. But despite everything, it was real. Tangled and painful, yes—but real.And now, I’m on a goddamn island. Locked away like a possession. Like someone’s twisted fantasy.I looked up at the small, barred window. Only sunlight. No sound of people, no traffic, no chatter. Just trees, waves… and this prison.I leaned my head back against the wall, forcing myself to breathe.Noel wasn’t just delusional. He was dangerous. And worse—he had the resources to make this whole thing look like it was always meant to happen.Hell, he planned this.I could still hear his voice echoing fr
“Noel, I really, really need to go home now.” My voice trembled as I stood from the couch, ignoring the pounding in my chest. “Please.”Noel didn’t even look up. He just kept eating, slow and quiet, like the world around him hadn’t ended.“I just… I need to be there,” I continued. “Her things are still there. Our bed. Her scent. I can’t breathe here, Noel. I need to be home.”He finally set his utensils down and wiped his mouth with a napkin, his eyes tired when they met mine.“There’s no reason for you to go back anymore, Matthew,” he said, voice flat. “She’s not there. She’s not anywhere anymore.”I stood there, frozen—his words echoing, loud and cruel in their finality.Not anywhere anymore.Where do people like Eloise go after death? I’ve asked myself that a thousand times since I woke up. Is she floating somewhere in peace? Is she still crying? Is she angry?Is she watching me now, wondering why I survived and she didn’t?I used to think heaven was for people like her—kind, stubb
I don’t know how to cope with such a loss.The moment Noel said the words—She’s dead—something in me broke. Not cracked, not splintered—broke. Like glass shattering from the inside. It’s not just pain. It’s a kind of silence that screams. A weight that settles in your chest and refuses to move.I keep waiting to wake up. Hoping this is just another one of those twisted nightmares I’ve had since the accident. But every time I open my eyes, I’m still here—on this damn island. And Eloise is still gone.Gone.I hate that word.Because it sounds so clean. So final. But nothing about this feels clean. My memories of her come in flashes—her laugh, the way she used to say my name like it mattered, the last time we fought, the last time I made her cry. God, I can’t even remember the last time I told her I loved her.And now I’ll never get the chance to.Eloise and I never started in a proper way.I didn’t marry her out of love. I didn’t even secretly like her.I married her because I was despe