All Chapters of Mister Dream Man: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

* Jana *My chest rose and fell unevenly, the weight of his demand pressing down on me. His words scraped against every fragile wall I had built over the years."I'm not hiding," I whispered, but even to my own ears, it sounded weak, defensive.His eyes narrowed, sharp and relentless. "You think I can't see it? The way you flinch at my name. The way Dianne's accusations tore through you last night. You're carrying something, Jana. And I won't—" he broke off, exhaling hard, dragging a hand through his hair. "I won't stand here pretending I don't notice."I backed away, needing distance, needing air. The kitchen suddenly felt too small, the walls closing in around me. My hand throbbed where the water had cooled the burn, but it was nothing compared to the heat flooding through my chest."You don't understand," I muttered, turning my back to him."Then make me understand." His voice was deep, steady, but beneath it lay a desperation that rattled me. "If Dianne is lying, then prove it. Lo

* Jana *The alarm clock on my nightstand blinked 6:45 a.m., its red digits far too sharp for the fog still clinging to my head. Monday. The beginning of another work week. But I couldn't move. Not yet.I lay staring at the ceiling, listening to the faint hum of traffic outside my apartment window, my chest tight with indecision. The thought of walking into that office, passing in his office, made my stomach twist.Lawrence knew. Or at least, he suspected. I had seen it in his eyes last night, the way his voice sharpened when he demanded the truth, the way his silence carried more weight than any accusation.Part of me wanted to stay hidden behind the mask I had built so carefully. My new name, my quiet life, the illusion of being just another employee, invisible and safe. If I went back to work, I could pretend again, bury it all under professionalism and distance.But I knew it wouldn't last. Lawrence was not the kind of man to let go once he had a thread to pull. And I... I was tir

* Lawrence *Her words hit me like a blade I had seen coming but still wasn't ready for."Yes. I am Jana Kramer."The air between us shifted, thick, charged, undeniable. For years, her name had been buried under dust and silence, a ghost I tried to forget but never could. And now she stood before me, not as a memory, not as a shadow, but as the truth I had chased and hated in equal measure.My fists clenched at my sides. The tremor in her voice, the glimmer in her eyes, it wasn't just defiance. It was hurt. Wounds I had left. Wounds I had justified, telling myself it was for my family, for honor, for what was right.But standing here, with her staring at me like I was the executioner of her past, those justifications felt thin. Fragile. Lies I had told myself to sleep at night.I stepped closer, not trusting my voice yet. I could hear her breathing, ragged, unsteady, the sound cutting through me more than her words had. She didn't move away, though. She held her ground, even as her fi

* Jana *The walls of my apartment felt tighter that evening, as though they too had been listening in on every word Lawrence and I had exchanged the past days. I couldn't shake the feeling that something inside him had shifted. He had always been sharp, proud, immovable, like granite that no storm could chip away. But now... there was a crack, and through it, the past was spilling out like floodwater.I'd seen it in his eyes when he looked at me, the way he carried something he wasn't ready to speak aloud. For years I had been left with only silence, only absence. My mother's disappearance was a wound that never closed, just scarred deeper with every passing year. There was a time when Leticia told me to accept it, to move on, to stop asking. But you can't bury a ghost that doesn't rest.I sat on the edge of my bed, my fingers curled tight around the worn photograph I always kept in my nightstand, the only picture I had of her. My mother's smile in that frame was soft, fragile, like

* Jana *The night after his confession, sleep did not come. My body lay still, but my mind raged, replaying every word, every photograph, every jagged truth Lawrence had pressed into my hands. By morning, my chest ached as if something inside had been hollowed out.I went to the office earlier than usual, when the building was still hushed and the world outside was waking with a sluggish gray. My hands trembled as I slid a blank sheet of paper into the printer. It felt almost archaic, the sound of keys clacking against silence, but maybe that was fitting. Resignation wasn't something to be whispered. It needed finality, permanence.Lawrence,I wrote his name without thinking, my pulse faltering as though even his name carried weight.Every word after that came slow, deliberate. I cannot continue here. Not after what you've told me. Not after what I've seen. This company was never just a job to me, it was tethered to answers I thought I would find, to strength I thought I could borrow