The morning after didn’t feel like morning at all.The light leaking through the curtains was soft and forgiving, but everything else was sharp. The weight of what we’d done pressed down on my chest like a stone. I hadn’t slept much. I doubted Dylan had either. He hadn’t said a word when he got out of bed, just pressed a lingering kiss to my shoulder before disappearing into the bathroom.Now I sat on the edge of the mattress, clutching the sheet to my chest, listening to the sound of running water.It should have felt like something good. Like a release.Instead, it felt like a beginning I didn’t ask for.The bathroom door creaked open. Dylan stepped out, towel slung low around his hips, hair damp, eyes unreadable. He paused when he saw me still sitting there, like he wasn’t sure how to break the silence between us.I beat him to it. “You called me Emily.”His jaw tightened. “Last night?”I nodded, eyes locked on him. “More than once.”He rubbed a hand down his face, then turned awa
Dylan sat next to me, his hand resting on the seat between us, his fingers twitching as if he wanted to touch me but was unsure whether to do so.I kept my gaze fixed out of the window, watching the city lights blur into a haze of color. It almost felt like I was in a dream. But it wasn’t a dream, it was my life now. Or at least, a life I had to pretend was mine.I wanted to ask Dylan a thousand questions. I wanted to scream, to demand answers. What was he really asking of me? Why was he so insistent that I become Emily, that I wear her life like a second skin? But every time I opened my mouth, the words felt too heavy to speak.Instead, I turned to him, just enough to catch his profile in the dim light of the car. His jaw was tight, his brow furrowed in a way that suggested he was lost in his thoughts as much as I was in mine.“Dylan,” I said softly, breaking the silence. “What happens when they see through it? When they realize I’m not her?”He glanced at me, his eyes flickering wit
Every corner of the ballroom whispered wealth, status, and power. This was a world I had never wanted, a world I never wished to belong to.But tonight, I was here. Again.My breath hitched in my throat as his gaze locked with mine across the room, his expression unreadable. His dark eyes were intense, piercing through the crowd as if nothing else existed but the space between us.For a moment, everything else faded. The music, the chatter, the clinking of glasses, they all disappeared, and it was just him and me, locked in this unexpected confrontation.I could feel the blood drain from my face. My fingers tightened around the glass of champagne in my hand, my knuckles white. I wasn’t ready for this. I wasn’t ready to face him, not like this, not in front of all these people.I tried to swallow the panic that rose in my chest, but it didn’t help. It wasn’t just the shock of seeing him again. It was the way he was looking at me. Like he knew exactly who I was.“Caitlin,” Dylan’s voic
Dylan shut the door behind us with a soft thud, the sound feeling too final. Too much like the world outside was still pressing down on me.The car started moving, the soft hum of the engine doing nothing to ease the storm inside me. I stared out the window, the city lights blurring by, but I wasn’t really seeing any of it. My thoughts were consumed by one thing, and one thing only.Aiden.I had spent so long running from him, escaping the life he’d built around me, and yet here I was, with him still somehow right there in front of me. Like some fucking ghost, haunting me.And Dylan?Dylan was his cousin.I couldn’t stop the words from slipping out.“Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” My voice was raw, barely above a whisper, but it still felt like a shout inside the car. “How could you not tell me that?”Dylan didn’t look at me. His hands were clenched tight on the wheel, his jaw set like granite. He kept his gaze fixed on the road ahead, his posture tense. But I could feel the shift
I stayed in the car for a long time after Dylan killed the engine, staring at the house, the quiet stillness of the night pressing down on me. The lights from the streetlamp outside cast long shadows across the driveway, but it wasn’t the darkness that felt suffocating, it was the weight of everything I was trying to ignore, trying to outrun.Finally, Dylan spoke, his voice softer this time, as though he could feel the distance growing between us.“Come inside, Caitlin,” he said gently. “You need to rest.”I shook my head, the exhaustion in my bones telling me that he was right. But my mind wouldn’t stop spinning, the image of Aiden, his presence still burning in my veins. I didn’t want to go inside. I didn’t want to face this house, this life. I didn’t want to feel like a ghost in my own skin.But there was no escaping it. So, I opened the car door, stepping out into the cool night air, the sound of my shoes crunching on the gravel beneath my feet. Dylan was already a few steps ahe
The Next Day,Morning light filtered through the blinds, casting long shadows across the room. I woke with a start, my heart racing, the memory of the previous night’s events flooding back. Aiden. Dylan. Lily. The ballroom. Everything felt like it was closing in on me.I pushed myself out of bed, the weight of what I had to do pressing down on me. Emily’s office. The words echoed in my mind. I had to do this. There was no other choice.I didn’t take long to get ready, just a simple black dress, no makeup, no frills. I wanted to look invisible. I didn’t need to draw any attention to myself today.When I stepped downstairs, Dylan was already waiting, sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee. He didn’t look up when I entered, but I knew he was aware of me. He always was.“I’m heading out,” I said, my voice steady but tired.Dylan finally glanced up at me, his expression unreadable. “You're not having breakfast?.”“I’ll be fine,” I said, forcing a smile, though I could feel the h
The office had a strange kind of stillness when Lily walked in, as if the room collectively held its breath. Even the air seemed to freeze for a moment, her presence commanding attention like a storm moving through the calm.Lily was every inch the picture of wealth and privilege. Her high-end designer suit looked like it belonged on a runway, and the sharpness in her eyes made it clear that she knew her value, and everyone else’s. She swept through the door with the kind of confidence that only comes with a life of entitlement.She wasn't just rich. She was the kind of rich that made people bend at the knee without her needing to ask. The kind of rich that made you want to either be her or never cross her path. Unfortunately for me, it seemed like I was stuck in the second category.I watched her as she walked into the office, the whispers from the colleagues that once surrounded me now falling silent in her wake. Lily glanced around the space with a subtle but unmistakable disd
The weight of his words sank into the room, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. I didn’t know what to make of this sudden shift. Aiden taking control, offering me a reprieve, but there was something about the way he stood there, unwavering, that made me feel a strange sense of relief.Lily’s face went pale with rage, her fingers curling into fists. “You don’t scare me, Aiden. You know that. My father...”“Your father’s company will be shut down before midnight if you even think about crossing me again,” Aiden interrupted, his words cutting through her like a blade. “So, you’re leaving now. Don’t make me repeat myself.”Lily stared at him for a long moment, her breath shallow, her face flushed with frustration.“You can’t do this,” she spat, her voice trembling with anger.“I already have,” Aiden said, his voice sharp as a knife. “Now, get out.”With a final, seething look at me, Lily grabbed her purse and stormed out, the door slamming shut behind her with a force that sh
I didn’t cry.I thought I would.I thought I’d make it to the elevator and fall apart, slide down the wall and sob until my throat cracked. But I didn’t.I rode the elevator down like I was made of steel. Hands still clenched. Face still burning.The lobby lights buzzed overhead. The security guard gave me a stiff, polite nod, like nothing was wrong. Like I hadn’t just stood in the same room as the man who reprogrammed my body and tried to erase my soul.I nodded back.Because that’s the game, isn’t it?Pretend nothing’s bleeding.Pretend you’re not drowning.Pretend you didn’t just learn you were built.It was cold outside. Not winter-cold. But the kind that sneaks under your skin when you’re already brittle inside. My heels clicked across the pavement as I walked to my car, and every sound felt too loud. Like the world was trying to draw attention to me. Like it knew.I sat behind the wheel with the engine off for a long time.Not thinking. Not planning. Just existing.And even tha
I left Dylan’s apartment without looking back.He didn’t try to stop me. Just stood there, silent, like a man watching a fire he didn’t bother putting out. And maybe that was the truth, maybe I was always meant to burn.I drove until I couldn’t feel my fingers on the wheel. Ended up in a parking garage, staring at nothing, chewing on the edge of a panic attack.Then I opened the flash drive again.Not on my laptop this time. On a secure system. A hacker friend from my undergrad days owed me favors, and I called one in. Said I needed everything decrypted. Hidden files. Metadata. Time stamps. Anything.They called me an hour later, voice low and clipped.“There’s a hidden folder. You didn’t see it.”I hadn’t.I went back, followed the breadcrumb they gave me.Inside were audio logs, notes, screenshots of messages, even therapy session transcriptions. And a folder marked...“HER”.My hands shook as I opened it.Dozens of photos.All of me.Years back, Surveillance stills, Social media scr
I didn't sleep there. How could I? I drove until the sky went pale, then parked in a grocery store lot and sat there, staring at my reflection in the rearview mirror. I didn’t recognize the woman looking back. Eyes ringed in black, lips chewed raw, heart ticking like a bomb.Emily knew me.Not “knew of me.” Not guessed or imagined.She said my name.I kept playing the message in my head, those last words, like she was whispering straight through time, through death, into my ear. “Don’t trust either of them.”How did she know?And why did it feel like I was already too late?By 8 a.m., I was parked outside a library. Not mine. Not local. A town over. Somewhere neutral. I signed onto a public computer with trembling fingers and searched for anything. Old records. Articles. Social media scraps. There was almost nothing about Emily after her death. Just sanitized obituaries and half-hearted blog posts about water safety.But I wasn’t looking for her anymore.I was looking for me.I dug
I didn’t go home.Home felt like a place for people with answers. People who knew what side they were on. I didn’t know anything anymore.Who was I running from? And who was I even running to? So I found a diner. One of those nowhere-places with cracked vinyl booths and a jukebox that hadn’t worked since the 90s. I sat in the corner, hunched over my laptop, the flash drive clenched in my fist like a trigger.I hesitated before plugging it in.Part of me already knew this wouldn’t be something I could unsee.The drive had one folder./EMILY/Inside were three files.Audio_Log_06.m4aJuly_14_CamFootage.mp4Letter_To_Caitlin.docxThat last one hit me like a brick.Letter to Caitlin.I never met her. Not once. I only knew Emily from Dylan’s stories. From the quiet grief in his voice when he mentioned her. From the wedding photos still shoved in a box in our closet. She was a ghost in my life. Beautiful, Tragic and Untouchable.How the hell did she know my name?I opened the letter.> Ca
I didn’t want to go.But the invite, or more accurately, the command, was sitting in my calendar like a trap with a blinking countdown. “Meeting with Mr. Gallagher. 12:05 PM.”Of course he’d make it five minutes after noon. A power play. Make me sweat.I stared at the screen a moment longer than I should’ve, then stood. My legs were shaky, even though I tried to play it cool. Everyone was still pretending not to watch, but I felt it. The tension when I passed someone’s desk. The fake typing that stopped just long enough to eavesdrop.I hated them. I hated how they looked at me now, like I was some broken puzzle they couldn’t wait to solve. Like a scandal in heels.When I reached Aiden’s office, I hesitated for half a second. Just long enough for my nerves to kick. Then I opened the door.He was already standing. Backlit by the floor-to-ceiling windows, crisp and composed in a suit too perfect for someone with a heart so rotted.He didn’t say a word as he stepped around the desk and c
The morning air felt unusually thick as I returned the office building, the weight of the previous day still lingering in my chest. I had to quickly finished the tasks at hand before Aiden would ask for it.I pressed the button for the elevator, hearing the soft hum of whispers that echoed from the lobby. “… Did you hear? Mr. Gallagher spent hours in his office with Emily yesterday. Alone. I thought they just worked together on the big reports?”“Yeah, but did you hear what he called her?” A second voice whispered. “I swear, he called her Caitlin. I thought her name was Emily?”“Wait, what? Are you sure?”“I heard it too. Something’s up with those two, that’s for sure…”The elevator doors slid open, and I stepped inside, trying to ignore the rising tension in the air. It was hard not to notice the undercurrents of gossip, the shifting glances from people who weren’t even trying to hide their curiosity.As the doors closed, I sighed and leaned against the wall, willing myself to shak
The day had barely begun when I found myself standing at my desk, a stack of files before me. The office buzzed with the usual hum of conversations, clicking keyboards, and ringing phones. But for me, everything felt muted, distant. I couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened earlier. Aiden’s words had burrowed into my mind, and despite my best efforts to shake them off, they lingered like a shadow over my thoughts.I was determined to push past it. I was stronger now. At least, that’s what I told myself.But that resolve was put to the test the moment I saw Aiden emerge from his office. His sharp suit and imposing presence commanded the room, and everyone seemed to freeze in their tracks as he walked through the floor. I tried to focus on my work, my eyes fixed on the screen, but I could feel his gaze sweeping across the room, his eyes lingering on me for a fraction of a second longer than necessary.And then, I heard his voice."Caitlin." He called out, his tone smooth, too
The morning after, I woke up to an unsettling quiet. The kind of quiet that, for most people, would signify peace. But for me, it was like a raw wound still too tender to touch. My first peaceful night under Dylan's roof had been a relief, a balm to the wounds that Aiden’s presence had left on me. I had expected to wake up feeling safer, more at ease, but instead, the dread still clung to me like a shadow.Dylan had left early for work, but his absence felt comforting, as if he had given me the space I needed to begin reclaiming some semblance of normality. I sat in the living room, sipping my tea, trying to gather the strength to start my day. The phone buzzed on the coffee table, pulling me from my thoughts. It was a text from my work.“Emily, the company expects you to come in today. We’re a bit behind. Hope you’re feeling better. See you soon!”I stared at the message for a long moment, the weight of it sinking in. Going back to the office meant facing the reality of everythin
The drive back to Dylan’s house felt surreal. The air seemed to shimmer with a sense of possibility, but there was still an undercurrent of caution running through me, as if I was unsure whether I could truly trust the peace I felt, or if it was just a fleeting illusion. My hands rested on my lap, and for the first time in ages, I didn’t feel the urge to clutch my body in a defensive posture. I didn’t feel the weight of Aiden’s presence looming behind me, controlling my every move. The physical relief was immense, but the emotional burden was still there, heavy and complex.Dylan glanced at me as we drove, his face drawn, like he was balancing a thousand thoughts, but he didn’t rush me. He didn’t push me for anything more than what I was willing to give. His silence was comforting, as if he was giving me space to breathe, space to think, while also showing that he was there, unwavering in his presence.The road seemed to stretch endlessly before us. The soft hum of the tires on asph