Woo her back

Chapter One

The body lay in perfect repose on the Victorian fainting couch, looking more like a sleeping beauty than a victim. Detective Sarah Chen had seen enough death in her ten years with the Metropolitan Police's Special Cases Unit to know that natural death never looked this peaceful. Something was very, very wrong.
'No signs of struggle, no marks on the body, and yet...' She leaned closer, studying the victim's face. Charlotte Mills, aged 28, was found by her roommate this morning, apparently having passed away in her sleep. Her expression was serene, almost blissful, but her eyes - those were what caught Sarah's attention. Behind the closed lids, her eyes were moving rapidly, as if still deep in REM sleep.
"You see it too, don't you?" The voice came from behind her, rich and cultured with a slight Irish lilt. "She's still dreaming."
Sarah turned to find a tall man in an impeccably tailored charcoal suit standing in the doorway. He hadn't been there a moment ago, she was certain of it. His dark hair was streaked with silver at the temples, and his eyes were an unusual shade of amber that seemed to shift color in the light.
"This is a closed crime scene," she said firmly, her hand instinctively moving toward her weapon. "How did you get in here?"
He smiled, but it didn't reach those strange eyes. "Dr. Marcus Thorne," he said, pulling out a card that somehow both looked official and seemed to shimmer slightly. "I'm a consulting specialist with the Department's new Oneiric Phenomena Division."
"The what division?" Sarah frowned, taking the card. The moment her fingers touched it, she felt a slight electric tingle, and the letters seemed to rearrange themselves before her eyes.
"Dreams, Detective Chen. We investigate crimes involving dreams." He moved into the room with fluid grace, his attention fixed on the victim. "And this is the third one this month."
Sarah's mind raced. There had been two other deaths recently - both young women, both found peacefully dead in their sleep. She'd seen the reports but hadn't made the connection until now. "How do you know about those cases?"
"Because I've been tracking the killer for quite some time." Thorne knelt beside the body, his eyes now definitely more gold than amber. "He's what we call a Dream Collector - someone who has learned to enter and steal dreams. But this one has developed a taste for more than just dreams. He's taking souls."
Under normal circumstances, Sarah would have dismissed such talk as nonsense. But there was something about the scene, about the victim's still-moving eyes, about Thorne himself, that made the impossible seem suddenly plausible.
"If you're tracking him," she said carefully, "why haven't you caught him?"
Thorne's expression darkened. "Because he only appears in dreams. The physical world is my domain, but his... his is the realm of sleep. To catch him, we need someone who can walk between both worlds." He turned those unsettling eyes on her. "Someone like you."
"Me?" Sarah almost laughed, but the sound died in her throat as memories she'd long suppressed began to surface. The dreams that felt too real, the nights she'd awakened to find objects moved in her room, the way she sometimes knew things she couldn't possibly know...
"You've always known you were different, haven't you, Detective?" Thorne's voice was gentle now. "The dreams that come true, the hunches that turn out to be right, the way you can sometimes see how people died just by touching objects they owned..."
Sarah took an involuntary step back. "How do you know about that?"
"Because I've been looking for someone like you. A Natural - someone born with the ability to cross the threshold between waking and dreaming." He gestured to the victim. "Charlotte here won't be his last. There will be others, and their souls will remain trapped in an eternal dream unless we stop him."
Just then, the victim's hand twitched, her fingers moving as if writing something. Sarah moved closer, watching as invisible words were traced in the air. Thorne pulled out what looked like an antique monocle and held it up. Through its lens, golden letters shimmered in the air where Charlotte's fingers moved.
"Help me," Thorne read aloud. "He's coming for the others."
Sarah felt a chill run down her spine. She looked at the victim's peaceful face, at those restlessly moving eyes, and made a decision that would change her life forever.
"Tell me what I need to do."
Thorne's smile was grim. "First, you need to learn to control your abilities. Then..." he held up the monocle, through which Sarah could now see strange symbols glowing all around the room, "you need to learn to hunt in dreams."
Outside the Victorian townhouse, storm clouds gathered, and Sarah Chen, homicide detective and newly discovered dream walker, took her first step into a world where nightmares were real, and death was just another kind of sleep.

Chapter Two

The basement of the Natural History Museum was the last place Sarah expected to find the headquarters of a secret dream investigation unit. Yet here she was, following Thorne through a maze of storage rooms filled with artifacts that seemed to pulse with their own inner light.
"The mundane world only sees what it expects to see," Thorne explained, using an ornate key to unlock a heavy wooden door marked 'Private Collection.' "To them, this is just museum storage. To us, it's the largest collection of dream artifacts in the Western Hemisphere."
The room beyond defied physics. It stretched impossibly far, filled with glass cases containing everything from ancient masks to modern-looking devices. Floating orbs of soft light illuminated collections of bottled dreams - actual dreams, swirling like liquid mercury behind glass.
"Your badge, Detective," Thorne held out his hand. Sarah hesitated before handing over her police credentials. He placed it on a strange device that looked like a Victorian music box crossed with a computer. When he returned the badge, it felt different - heavier, somehow more real.
"Now you'll be able to access both worlds officially," he said. "Look at it again."
The badge had changed. Alongside her regular police credentials, new text had appeared: 'Special Inspector, Oneiric Investigations Division.' The letters seemed to shift between English and something older, something that made her eyes water if she looked too long.
"Before we can hunt the Dream Collector, you need to understand what you're dealing with." Thorne led her to a case containing what looked like a normal pillow. "Touch it."
Sarah reached out hesitantly. The moment her fingers made contact, the world tilted. She was suddenly standing in someone else's dream - a sunny beach, but the sky was green and the sand whispered secrets. She jerked her hand back, gasping.
"Good," Thorne nodded approvingly. "Most people can't pull back from their first dream artifact. You have natural barriers."
"What was that?" Sarah's heart was racing.
"A dream fragment from 1892. A young girl's last dream before the influenza took her." His voice softened. "We preserve them here. Dreams carry memories, emotions, sometimes even pieces of souls."
"And this Dream Collector... he takes entire souls?" Sarah remembered Charlotte Mills' peaceful face and restless eyes.
"He traps them in eternal dreams, feeding off their essence." Thorne moved to another case, this one containing what looked like a cracked mirror. "Each victim becomes part of his collection, their souls powering his abilities, letting him dreamwalk without natural talent like yours."
Suddenly, the cracked mirror began to frost over. In its surface, Sarah saw Charlotte Mills' face, mouth open in a silent scream. Then another face appeared - another victim, she presumed - and another.
"He's showing off," Thorne growled. "He knows we're investigating."
The temperature in the room dropped dramatically. Frost patterns spread from the mirror to nearby cases, and Sarah heard what sounded like distant laughter.
"Well, well," a voice echoed through the room, seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere. "A new player in the game. And such interesting dreams you have, Detective Chen."
Sarah felt something brush against her mind, like cold fingers trying to pry open a door. Instinctively, she slammed her mental barriers shut. The presence withdrew, but not before leaving behind an impression of amusement.
"He's already caught your scent," Thorne said grimly. He pulled out a small velvet bag and removed what looked like a dreamcatcher made of silver wire and black pearls. "Wear this when you sleep. It won't keep him out entirely, but it'll stop him from stealing your dreams while you're still learning to defend yourself."
As Sarah took the dreamcatcher, her fingers brushed Thorne's, and suddenly she was hit with a flash of his dreams - centuries of memories, battles fought in realms of sleep, and a profound sense of loss that made her gasp.
Thorne withdrew his hand quickly. "Your abilities are stronger than I thought. We'll need to work on your control."
"What are you?" Sarah asked directly. "You're not just some government consultant, are you?"
Before he could answer, an alarm began to sound throughout the facility. One of the dream bottles had turned black, its contents writhing like smoke.
"He's hunting again," Thorne said, already moving toward the exit. "Someone in the city has just entered their last dream. Are you ready for your first real case, Detective?"
Sarah touched her new badge, feeling its power hum under her fingers. "Do we have time to save them?"
"If we're lucky, we might catch him in the act. But remember - in dreams, he's incredibly powerful. One wrong move and you could lose your soul."
As they rushed from the dream archive, Sarah caught one last glimpse of the cracked mirror. In its surface, she saw her own reflection smile back at her with eyes that weren't quite her own.
The hunt was about to begin.

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

They arrived at St. Bartholomew's Hospital just as the emergency lights began to flash. Sarah followed Thorne through corridors that seemed to blur at the edges of her vision, her new badge somehow clearing their path without ever being shown.
"Room 307," Thorne said, his voice tight with urgency. "Young male, admitted for minor surgery, slipped into an unusual coma during recovery."
The patient, David Parker, age 23, lay perfectly still on his hospital bed, his eyes moving rapidly beneath closed lids. Just like Charlotte Mills. But this time, something was different - the air around him rippled like heat waves over hot asphalt.
"He's still in the process of taking him," Thorne said, pulling out what looked like an antique pocket watch. "We can follow if we're quick. Are you ready for your first dream dive?"
Sarah's heart pounded. "What do I need to do?"
"Take my hand. Focus on the patient. Let your consciousness slip between the moments of reality." Thorne's eyes began to glow that strange amber color. "And whatever you see in there, remember - dream logic is real logic in that world."
Sarah grasped Thorne's hand and looked at David Parker. The world tilted, twisted, and suddenly...
They were standing in a hospital corridor that wasn't quite right. The walls breathed slowly, the floor was made of flowing water that somehow supported their weight, and the ceiling was a swirling mass of constellation maps.
"His dreamscape," Thorne explained, his voice echoing strangely. "Every dreamer creates their own reality. Look."
Down the impossible corridor, a figure in a doctor's coat was leading David Parker by the hand. But the 'doctor' was wrong - his shadow moved independently, reaching out with grasping tendrils towards other dreams that floated past like soap bubbles.
"The Dream Collector," Sarah whispered.
As if hearing his name, the figure turned. Sarah's breath caught. His face was a beautiful mask of shifting features, never settling on one form, but his eyes... his eyes were endless pits of swirling dreams.
"Ah, the new dreamer," his voice was like silk over broken glass. "And my old friend Marcus. Still trying to police the dream worlds?"
Thorne stepped forward, and Sarah noticed his appearance had changed in the dream. His suit was now made of living shadows, and wings of dark light stretched from his shoulders. "Let him go, Collector. You've taken enough souls."
The Collector laughed, the sound causing the hospital walls to crack, leaking golden dream-light. "Taken? Oh, Marcus, you still don't understand. They give themselves to me. Show her, David."
The young man turned, and Sarah saw his eyes were glassy with bliss. "It's beautiful here," he said dreamily. "All my pain is gone. All my fears. He takes them all away."
"By taking everything you are," Sarah found herself saying. She took a step forward, instinctively reaching for her police badge. In the dream, it transformed into a shield of pure light. "David, this isn't real healing. It's theft."
The Collector's face rippled with anger. "You dare interrupt my collection?" The corridor began to twist, reality bending around them. "Let me show you what happens to those who interfere with my work."
Suddenly, the floor beneath Sarah liquefied completely. She started to sink, but instead of water, she was drowning in dreams - thousands of them, each containing a fragment of someone's stolen soul. She saw Charlotte Mills dancing endlessly in a ballroom of mirrors, saw other victims trapped in perfect moments that had become eternal prisons.
"Sarah!" Thorne's voice cut through the chaos. "Remember - dream logic! Make your own rules!"
Dream logic. Sarah closed her eyes, focusing on her years of police work, of protecting people, of solving puzzles. When she opened them, her badge-shield had transformed into a sword of pure thought.
With a cry, she slashed through the dream-flood. Reality reasserted itself - or at least, this dream's version of reality. She stood on solid ground again, facing the Collector.
"Impressive," he purred, but she sensed uncertainty in his voice. "You're stronger than the usual dreamers Marcus recruits. Perhaps we could make a deal..."
"No deals," Sarah said firmly. She could feel her power growing, reshaping the dream around them. "David, look at what he really is. Look with your heart, not your fears."
For a moment, David's eyes cleared. The Collector's beautiful mask slipped, revealing something ancient and hungry beneath. David screamed, pulling away from the creature's grasp.
The Collector snarled, his form shifting into something monstrous. "If I can't have him willingly..." Shadows exploded from his body, reaching for David.
What happened next seemed to unfold in slow motion. Thorne spread his dark wings, shielding David. Sarah's sword of thought became a net of light, trapping some of the shadows. But the Collector himself simply... stepped sideways, vanishing into a door that appeared in the air.
"Sweet dreams, detectives," his voice lingered behind. "We'll meet again soon. After all, Sarah, your dreams are particularly... appetizing."
The dreamscape began to dissolve. Sarah felt Thorne grab her arm, pulling her back through layers of reality. Then...
They were standing in the hospital room again. David Parker was awake, gasping, but alive and whole. A nurse was rushing in, responding to his sudden revival.
"We saved one," Thorne said quietly. "But he'll be angry now. And he'll come for you."
Sarah touched her badge, still feeling echoes of its dream-power. "Good," she said grimly. "Because I have some questions for him about Charlotte Mills. And about what you really are, Marcus Thorne."
Thorne's expression was unreadable. "All in time, Detective. For now, you need to rest. Tomorrow, your real training begins."
As they left the hospital, Sarah could have sworn she saw her shadow move independently, reaching for dreams that floated just beyond the edge of sight. The world would never look quite the same again.

Chapter Four

Sarah's apartment looked different when she returned that night. The shadows seemed deeper, more alive, and ordinary objects cast reflections that didn't quite match reality. The dreamcatcher Thorne had given her pulsed softly in her pocket, responding to the changed way she now saw the world.
She was exhausted but afraid to sleep. The Collector's words echoed in her mind: 'Your dreams are particularly appetizing.' Instead, she spread her case files across the coffee table - photographs of Charlotte Mills, the other victims, and now David Parker's medical records.
A soft chime from her badge interrupted her concentration. The metal had grown warm, and when she touched it, words appeared in that strange shifting script: 'Archive. Now. Emergency.'
The museum was different at night. Sarah's new badge led her through doors that hadn't existed during her first visit, down stairs that seemed to descend far deeper than the building's foundation should allow. She found Thorne in a circular room she hadn't seen before, surrounded by floating screens of light that showed various dreamscapes.
"We have a problem," he said without preamble. "The Collector's attack pattern has changed. Look."
The screens shifted, showing a map of the city overlaid with points of light. "Each light is a dreamer," Thorne explained. "The blue ones are normal dreams. The red..." He gestured, and several dots pulsed an angry crimson. "Those are nightmares being actively shaped by outside forces."
"He's attacking multiple targets at once?"
"No." Thorne's expression was grim. "He's leaving traps. Dream-snares. Anyone who falls asleep in these areas risks being pulled into a constructed nightmare. He's trying to overwhelm our ability to respond."
Sarah studied the pattern of red dots. "They're forming a shape... a symbol?"
"A summoning circle." A new voice joined them. Sarah turned to see an elderly woman emerging from what appeared to be a door made of starlight. Her eyes were milk-white, but she moved with absolute certainty.
"Sarah, meet Dr. Eleanor Price, the Archive's keeper," Thorne said. "And yes, she's blind in the waking world, but in dreams..."
"I see everything," Eleanor finished. Her unseeing eyes fixed on Sarah with uncomfortable accuracy. "Including what our friend the Collector is truly planning. He's not just taking souls anymore. He's building toward something larger."
She gestured, and the room transformed around them. They were suddenly standing in what looked like a vast library, but the books were made of dreams, their pages flowing like liquid memory.
"Every dream ever archived is stored here," Eleanor explained. "Including the oldest nightmares of humanity. The Collector isn't just a thief - he's trying to wake something that should stay sleeping. Something we locked away centuries ago."
She pulled a book from the shelf, and its pages burst open, projecting a scene of ancient horror - a time when the boundary between dreams and reality was thinner, when nightmares could walk in daylight.
"The Last Nightmare," Thorne said softly. "We thought it was safely contained, but if he completes that summoning circle..."
A sudden tremor ran through the Archive. One of the red dots on the map had grown larger, pulsing violently.
"He's starting," Eleanor's voice was urgent. "Sarah, you need to see something before you face this." She pressed her fingers to Sarah's forehead, and suddenly...
She was in a memory. A younger Thorne stood with a woman who looked remarkably like Sarah herself, facing down a shadow that threatened to devour the world. The woman - another dream detective? - sacrificed herself to help seal away the nightmare.
"Your mother," Eleanor's voice echoed in her mind. "She was one of us. Her sacrifice helped lock away the Last Nightmare, but the Collector has never stopped trying to free it. And now he's found you - her daughter, with her power."
The vision ended abruptly as another tremor shook the Archive. More red dots were pulsing on the map.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Sarah demanded, turning to Thorne.
"Because I promised her I'd keep you away from this life," he replied, pain evident in his voice. "But now the Collector knows who you are, and we're running out of time."
"The summoning circle will be complete at the next new moon," Eleanor added. "Three days from now. If the Last Nightmare wakes..."
"Then we stop him before that happens," Sarah said firmly, though her mind was reeling from the revelations. "How do we break these dream-snares?"
"It's dangerous," Thorne warned. "Each one is a trap designed specifically for dream walkers. If you're caught..."
"Then you'll just have to watch my back," Sarah said. She touched her badge, feeling its power respond. "Where do we start?"
Eleanor smiled, her blind eyes somehow twinkling. "First, you need to understand what you truly inherited from your mother. It's time you learned about the true history of the dream walkers - and why the Collector fears your bloodline above all others."
As if in response to Eleanor's words, the books around them began to glow, their pages rustling with the weight of secrets about to be revealed. In the map above, the red dots pulsed like a countdown to catastrophe, and Sarah realized she had less than three days to master powers she never knew she had.
The true game was about to begin.

Chapter 1: Wedding Bells

Esmeralda's heart raced as she made her way down the aisle, her nerves threatening to consume her. Heels had always been her Achilles' heel, and today, with sky-high stilettos adorning her feet, the risk of a humiliating tumble or a twisted ankle loomed large. Each step was a delicate dance, a cautious negotiation with gravity.

Wedding bells chimed joyfully, their melody intertwining with the distant crash of waves. The atmosphere was electric, every face adorned with smiles as they clutched beautifully wrapped gifts, shimmering under the gentle caress of the setting sun. It was an evening of promises, of new beginnings.

Esmeralda inhaled deeply, attempting to steady her racing pulse. She fixed her gaze anywhere but on the treacherous heels that threatened to betray her at any moment. The harmonious notes of the wedding march began to fill the air, played elegantly on a grand piano. Her grip tightened around the bouquet in her trembling hand, its delicate petals offering solace.

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Reluctantly, he took a seat towards the back of the gathering, clutching a gift like the rest of the attendees. After years of tireless pursuit, he never imagined it would come to this. The irony of his presence at a celebration of love weighed heavily upon him.He gazed lazily around the room, hoping to catch sight of a familiar face. Disappointed, he reluctantly reached for his cell phone and dialed Augustus, desperate for some distraction from this dull affair. As the wedding march began to play and the bride made her entrance, he was forced to abandon the call. And then, he saw her.

It had been an eternity since he last laid eyes on her. Her hair cascaded in perfect curls, her brows furrowed in concentration, determined not to trip. She looked like a dream in that dress. For four long years, he had pined for her, never expecting to find her in a place he vowed to avoid. He wondered if it was too late, if she had already found someone else to love. His heart yearned to whisk her away from this wedding, but his rational side quashed that impulse. He stared at her as if he had just discovered the sun, and suddenly, his world seemed brighter. But then, a pang of pain shot through him as he remembered the words in her last letter. She would never accept him, he thought with a heavy heart. He watched as she glided down the aisle, exhaling a breath of relief. Though imperceptible to anyone else, it was crystal clear to Kenneth—his gaze was fixed solely upon her. But she didn't look back at him. Her eyes were locked straight ahead, and he longed to meet her warm chocolate gaze, even if only for a fleeting moment.

The entire wedding ceremony passed by in a blur. Esmeralda snapped out of her trance-like state when she heard the words "I do" spoken aloud. She turned her attention to Sylvia standing before her, resplendent in her wedding gown. Sylvia and Walter leaned in for a tender kiss as the priest declared them husband and wife. Esmeralda hadn't even realized her eyes had grown slightly moist. She and Sylvia had never been particularly close; to Esmeralda, she had always been her boss's daughter.Esmeralda was taken aback when Sylvia asked her to be one of her bridesmaids, but she couldn't refuse her dear friend. Adjusting her salmon-colored gown, she gracefully descended the aisle. She managed to nab a glass of wine from a passing waiter and sought solace in a secluded corner. The crowd consisted mostly of strangers, save for a few familiar faces from the publishing house. Margaret, the former editor in chief, had recently retired, leaving Esmeralda in charge. It was a dream come true, but there was still one thing missing: love.

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"Aw, come on. Just one dance, please," he persisted. Esmeralda hesitated for a moment before finally giving in. "Okay, but just one dance," she relented. He led her to the dance floor, and as the soft melodies played, they began to sway together. His hands gently held her waist, while hers rested on his shoulders.

"I'm Simeon, by the way. Simeon Rivera," he introduced himself. Esmeralda's eyes widened in recognition. "Simeon Rivera, the author of 'A Million Miles Away'?" she asked, surprised. "Yep, that's me. The one and only," he replied, a smirk playing on his lips. "You're not old," she blurted out, immediately regretting her words. "I mean, I always imagined the writer of such a wonderful book to be more experienced and mature. You're quite young," she clarified, trying to salvage the situation.

"Thank you for the...compliment," he smirked. "But it wasn't a compliment. I was merely stating a fact," Esmeralda retorted, not one to back down. "Whatever you say. I know I'm attractive," he chuckled. "By the way, what's your name?" he asked, genuinely curious.

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As Kenneth observed the newlyweds dancing, he couldn't help but notice the couple dancing closely beside them. Esmeralda was twirling with a guy, their laughter filling the air. An overwhelming desire to snatch her away from him surged within Kenneth. His fists clenched as he found himself moving towards Esmeralda. "Mind if I cut in?" he asked, his gaze fixed on her. "Yeah, sure," the guy replied casually. "I hope we cross paths again, Esmeralda," he added, winking at her. Kenneth fought the urge to punch him in the face.

Esmeralda stared at Kenneth, unable to blink. She didn't even notice the guy leaving, her eyes locked on the man standing before her. The man who had once held her heart, shattered it, and still managed to make it flutter. "Long time no see, Esmeralda," he said softly, the surrounding couples blissfully swaying to the music, unaware of the intensity between them. It had been four long years since they last stood face to face.

Chapter 2: It Was Nice Seeing You

Esmeralda stood frozen, her voice stolen by the weight of Kenneth's words. Her heart raced at breakneck speed, drowning out the sounds around her. Kenneth's lips ceased their movement, leaving an expectant silence in their wake. The world seemed to fade away as their gazes locked, unreadable eyes meeting nervous ones.

Despite the lively music and laughter that enveloped them, all they could perceive was a deafening hush. Time became an elusive concept as they stood rooted to the spot, oblivious to the passing minutes. It could have been mere seconds or an eternity before a collision jolted them back to reality.

The abrupt encounter on the dance floor shattered their trance, reminding them of their surroundings. Apologies tumbled from their lips as they hastily retreated, Esmeralda leading the way. Uncertain of how to respond, she marched toward the beach without glancing back to see if Kenneth trailed behind. How does one begin to address the man they had left without explanation, the man who held their heart?

SfiÉlJentlwy$,m KÉeónsnebthy kfXoll)owpe&d iDnk ThYeXr CwakTeQ. xHeg hkaId zyiicelydedB tto IhFibs ismpulsMeRs, Qkebepin^g Sime)ony amt baKyB XwitPhoQutG Yco!nwsijdecriSngQ tEvsme.rIalda's XpohteTnbtqialB rteaHctDioónQ. pThZoDugHhH NhGeórG lXeUttTejr' vhaKd &sFpVoik$en Yo!f rfoNrgimvqerneÉsbs, IiPt haqd ralaso) mHadle UiTtV cnlne(arK that Uth!eiyr reHlatTionsmhi'pq qwo^ultd& f.oreQv(eTr vrzemadin IuKn_ackn,ohwnle.dzgeid*.D *Nogw, hVeó couYlRd oGnly wUonrdqe)r h^oFwk shgeM wo*uldj recteDilvóeD hyidmI.w Wio^ulid( BshZec ofÉfQeIrX a _c&iHvKi'lA gjraee_twi^ngM,V u'nLleasJhC $herD kan_geér,) ohr sqimp&lKy Cpsretecn.d hhe udidynp'^t& efxislt?R HisK axnTsdwLer cma)med whpen EsNmQeurqazlBdIa óabrNuQpOtWl,yL hUarldted,u tWhCek bue^acph s*tSreFtchicn^gK outX .befsorBe )thyeBm,C tVhe distcaqnt Nh!uymr of Yt$heG wedDdiJng MlQinÉg^erking' jiZna t)hVeg aiQr."WhaQt the heGlhl w'erde y^opu thdi*nkin_g, GK_enÉnetkh,a apvpXearning LiVn SfAr)oónt o^f me Toutm _of. Sthina Laimr^?"D EsMm.emrsaSlda Étursne_d t!o alNooZk jaKtf h$imF,B khIe!r YvoPicnet Yfilled wiPtBh a NmHixtudre *olfC fs$uwrprzisMe anXd annoZyaTnGce. FAs )heT eGxamijnkehd heri TcHlose^lVy,x hóe jnio$tiCcleYd thJató shne _looykzed ydiVfferent.Y Thnezre GwmasM !ag newfAoéuUndf coWnZfi.dzeBncbe a'bou.t heVrz,T yh^ecrq nha)ir$ noyw l(onbgelr,i !aqn$dN sthe hca'z*elB óhighligAhts sLhi)nbinQg Dfjr,opm Huhp clous.e. IncsGtZeaid oGf) answDeariynGg. hMeJr quesftiNon,x UhYeQ Tblurthegd o^uSt, "You plCofok diIffPeyrenHt.F"l

Esmeralda sighed, a hint of exasperation in her voice. "Of course I look different. It's been four years, Kenneth," she replied, her frustration evident as he continued to scrutinize her.

Gone was the insecure, shy woman who had allowed him to trample over her. She no longer felt intimidated by his piercing green eyes. In fact, she took the opportunity to assess Kenneth herself. He appeared the same, with his messy brown hair and well-fitted suit. If anything, he seemed even more physically fit than before, and his strong jaw remained as smooth as ever. The only noticeable change she detected was in his eyes. They held a maturity that hadn't been there when she had left him. He seemed wiser, but along with wisdom came a coldness she hadn't expected. The Kenneth she had known was warmer, gentler. Now, he had transformed into a ruthless businessman.

Esmeralda had heard of his company's success story. Over the past four years, Scott Industries had risen from a small company to a multinational powerhouse. The media followed Kenneth's every move, dubbing him one of the most eligible bachelors - rich and handsome. She was grateful that the details of their past had remained a secret. Four years ago, Scott Industries had been just another struggling company in New York City. No one cared about Kenneth's personal life back then, and their divorce had gone unnoticed. Everyone knew he had been married, but nobody knew who his wife was or what had occurred between them. Esmeralda was thankful for the anonymity.

Lost Tin Fhuern téhou_gpht,sc, Es!meYrzalzda Iwasq Lb^rouguhXt tbtaLckK &tos xrealAitsyl ZwThenj xsheL Ahe_arHd KTennetGhF grumblpeg smoTmSethindg uhndeLr hisq bórehatvh.p X"bI'NmP Rs(oOr(ry,R fwhlatP cd!idO you) sPayT?s" sheé asCke'dk,L grexnhubizne$ljyw ycvusrio^uqsf.i

"It has been four years, three months, and twenty-three days since you left," Kenneth replied, his voice tinged with a hint of bitterness.

Esmeralda couldn't help but be taken aback by his response. Was Kenneth still holding onto their past? The thought lingered in her mind, leaving her wondering what lay beneath his hardened exterior.The sight of Kenneth standing before her stirred a strange mix of emotions within Esmeralda. It felt as if her past and present were colliding on the horizon, embodied by this man. She had tried to bury her past, but had come to realize that every memory, good or bad, held value. She had imagined that if she ever crossed paths with Kenneth again, she would either ignore him completely or unleash a torrent of words that would put sailors to shame. But now, here she stood, heels sinking into the soft sand, waves crashing in the background, without uttering a single word.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, leaving behind a gentle pinkish-orange glow, they both gazed out at the expanse of blue sea before them, where frothy waves collided with one another. Awkward silence hung between them, their eyes stealing glances at each other. Breaking the tension, Jonathan spoke up, his voice cutting through the stillness, "I've been considering a deal with Selene, so when she invited me to her daughter's wedding, I felt obliged to attend."

"FO&hT,(" NEósfmerMaGlda fraeSplieBd, Uhenr voice_ Rtrailin$g vofvfi,F ZfaglLlUingh xbback$ $into sijlqenHceX cas Cthey fb'o^t!hM rem'ai_neud fiéxateBdW onF _th(e sea(.G Senós$isng ^tXhe MnLeed StWo reLtyulrn dtoB KthkeX (w*edLdhinQgR, pw*hereO óSNylvNita MawfaziMtedP herm,) Evsqmera$ldaZ .bmrdoFkGe tDheW siltenceD Nopnnceg (mfo!r^e_, "DIy shQould pr^obZably hvead cbcack. ShPet LmGusGt VbIe gwoóndie.rinógc whQerLe I am,."

"You should," Kenneth responded, his voice barely above a whisper. "Yeah, I should," Esmeralda agreed, mentally urging her feet to move as her body resisted.

So many words swirled within Esmeralda, words she had longed to say to Kenneth four years ago. She yearned to shout at him for shattering the beautiful fairytale they had lived, for failing to trust her, for not seeking solace in her during his darkest moments. But the words remained trapped within her, unable to escape. She wanted to slap him, to punch him, and yet, paradoxically, she also longed to embrace him. It was as if all the buried emotions within her had surged to the surface, leaving her feeling disoriented and fragmented. She knew it was best to leave before she said or did something that would jeopardize the life she had carefully built for herself.

"It was nice seeing you, Kenneth," Esmeralda finally managed to utter, her voice tinged with a hint of melancholy. With those words hanging in the air, she turned away from him and made her way towards the wedding, leaving the past behind once more.

Chapter 3: Let it go ?

Kenneth stood frozen, his gaze fixed on the silhouette of her retreating figure. The weight of her absence pressed heavily upon him, a choice looming over his heart like an unyielding shadow. Should he honor her request, letting her slip away like sand through his fingertips? Or should he defy the odds, chase after the one woman who held the key to his soul?

In the wake of their encounter, his emotions clashed like wild waves upon jagged rocks. Had seeing her again eased the ache that had plagued him for so long, or had it ignited a fiercer longing within his chest? The memory of her dancing with another man seared into his mind, a visceral reminder of what should have been his arms wrapped around her slender frame. If only he hadn't destroyed the most precious connection fate had ever woven for him.

Uncertainty gnawed at his core, for he knew not if Esmeralda had found solace in the arms of another. And as much as he yearned to reclaim her, he couldn't simply barge back into her life. But neither could he bear the thought of relinquishing her completely. He had vowed that if destiny ever guided their paths to intersect once more, he would seize the opportunity with unwavering determination. Yet now, faced with this crossroad, his mind became a labyrinth of conflicting thoughts.

Opna Vonek rhéaJnd, Jtphe possUsiubóiUliDtGyd gloobmaeÉdW Ftfhat EÉsFmQerr*aKldLa( hiaGd( fhor)geZd a nSeaw loUvReV, an*ds puarsuinga vh!ePr wioZuUld olnlyJ iMnwflOivcth a^nYguGis,hq upoKné he)rc fcraJgilev hLe'aRrbtm.y *Buth onA tthKeZ other hqand,é rtHhere exiisted )a jglimmerl Nofm hxope,F ab czhqance btoQ )rebduvilKd wzhatm th_eky ÉhQad nlodsHt and mTaInuiNfNestl tYhNe li_fe &tvhdedym had oWnJcme d!ared GtAoQ AdLrvesam.

Amidst the tumultuous whirlwind of his thoughts, one truth remained steadfast: he could not bear to exist without her presence in his life. For four long years, he had been a mere shell, a mechanical being devoid of true feeling. But her reappearance had breathed life back into his veins, rekindling the dormant flames of desire and longing that he had buried deep within.

And so, with resolute determination, Kenneth vowed to embark upon a path that would lead him to her. He would navigate the treacherous waters of uncertainty, armed with the unwavering belief that their love was worth fighting for. For in the depths of his soul, he knew that Esmeralda was his forevermore.He had been a fool, a complete and utter fool. He could hardly believe the mistakes he had made, the pain he had caused. But he wasn't that same man anymore. He had grown, learned from his past, and if given the chance, he would never repeat those errors. Glancing at his watch, he realized it was already 7:00 PM. The flight was waiting, beckoning him back to New York. He had a choice to make – turn away from this fateful encounter or take a leap of faith and return to the wedding.

His heart ached at the thought of causing Esmeralda more tears, but he couldn't bear to let her slip away from his grasp. Caught in a limbo of indecision, he stood on the beach, his mind swirling. He had made bold decisions that could make or break his company without a second thought, yet here he was, unable to decide whether to pursue the love of his life or not. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, hoping for clarity.

IMnu ^t&hBat _modmdeznit,k Ja^ kviAviZdG wi^mZapgZes BflasheDd ^befIorIez hAixsW cÉlVoHsed eZy,enlDidsJ O–K ZEs&mjewraqluda Noanó tihelir lweCddinygi daHy,$ _a vislionQ oNfq &radXiJa(ncjeZ Riin JheJró spristPi$neF whinteR Igo!wn. Itd Nwasf sthenO that ÉhgeN Gkqnexw!,* Kdeepb ivn. hixs sowuKl,s thatS tkheF ódWeYciJsJiBonc zhjaNdh alr!eaadyf becen dméawdeF.D DetkerfminartWiyon ^wfeNllledf puyp withzijn him aas hev rUepapch!ewd fPoLr hyiYsG cetlCl$ TpJhAowneb aDnd ms*wviftclyF wtiyped _a qmqesspajges to( Au*gurstus. N",CanceJlF qm.y flgighwtm.t WaAiGtt fo(r fJuOr_twhe*r nin!s't'rFuvctzifons'." NThis ti)me^,A he_ hwvoAulhdT stvay )and figyhPta )féoÉrK hePr. HeX qwouuDltdnP'FtA lBet hePr go WwitihovuhtG a kfitgWhtI. WsiZthC nNeZwfouQnzdZ resoSlmveO,_ hbe KtqurnedI h'isG abacykq Lonu thHe, temkpXtiKng gpatshW cawday! NaRndT s)et Ch*icsJ choxurFséeT Lbua*ckA (toGwyarZdZs thMeS GwfedidiÉng.

Esmeralda let out a sigh of relief as she finally arrived at the wedding venue. Meeting Kenneth had taken an emotional toll on her. It had required every ounce of self-control not to turn back and give him a piece of her mind. She had claimed to have forgiven him in her last letter, and she truly had, but that didn't mean she was ready to face him again. Her mind was a jumble of conflicting thoughts, her emotions in disarray.She managed to maintain a brief and professional encounter with him. Once the initial shock of their meeting had faded, she handled it rather well. Her only prayer now was to avoid crossing paths with him again. If Violet had disclosed Kenneth's attendance at this wedding, she would have never set foot in this place. But then again, Selene was known for inviting all the top players in the business food chain.

As she settled onto a chair near the bar, she gulped down her fourth glass of red wine. Drinking was never her forte, but tonight she needed all the liquid courage she could muster. Her eyes scanned the room, searching for Kenneth. To her surprise, a tinge of disappointment crept in when she couldn't spot him. Shaking her head to clear her intoxicated mind, she found the world tilting slightly to the left and then to the right. Was there an earthquake? Suddenly, everything started spinning, causing her to lose her balance. Bracing herself for impact, she closed her eyes, only to find her face cushioned against the warmth of a stranger's chest. Her body relaxed in the embrace, and amidst the haze, she faintly heard the words, "Found you." Darkness swallowed her whole as she succumbed to a drunken unconsciousness.

Chapter 4: Knight in Shining Armour.

Esmeralda awoke in a dimly lit room, the morning sun casting its gentle glow through the deep forest green curtains. Her head throbbed, her heart raced, and she couldn't quite place herself in these unfamiliar surroundings. This was definitely not her room. Vague memories of indulging in too much revelry at her boss's daughter's wedding flashed through her mind, and she prayed that she hadn't made a fool of herself, jeopardizing her coveted position. How could she have let her guard down so easily?

Known for her ironclad emotional control, Esmeralda felt frustrated by the suspense surrounding last night's potential drama. Determined to uncover the truth, she gathered her strength and rose from the bed, wincing as her bare feet met the cold touch of the marble floor. Silently, she eased open the door and stepped out into the corridor, her ears pricked for any sign of activity. Perhaps she could find someone who could shed light on her whereabouts. The last thing she wanted was to encounter a stranger, or worse, a colleague from the office.

As she ventured further, her instincts guided her towards the noise emanating from the living room. With each step, her heartbeat quickened, until her gaze fell upon a dark-haired man seated in an armchair. The shade of his hair stirred something within her memory. It was uncannily similar to Kenneth's, sending a jolt of panic through her veins. She silently pleaded with the universe that it wasn't him. Anyone but Kenneth. In that moment, the man turned around, and Esmeralda exhaled a sigh of relief. It wasn't Kenneth. It was Simeon.

"HueÉyg, )yoYu'Nr_el qawakye?" SihmeoQnÉ'csI zvxoicóe hield Ba StxiDnge opfK s^u!r&pórikse,Q lalcmoysgt aIs qi*f he exGpeScdtseéd h)er toq stBiélJl UbfeO aslleweKpk.H PE^simeTraldNa bcouUlCdn'tJ hKeLlNpO bGuth fOeXell a tPwingTe Bof dsiFsaUpupointmÉennt, renaliZzi^ngY t)hat KhLerF hxopesu had( NbMeen MmZiAsOplacmedL. zIt. wasmn'Ata sKenQne!tRhv stanjding Dbeflore hfer, but& CSDixmeonY.

"Well, aren't you a vision of disappointment," Simeon remarked, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "I've never seen a woman look at me like that before. Most of them are usually starry-eyed."

Esmeralda couldn't help but chuckle at Simeon's comment, momentarily forgetting her worries as she engaged in playful banter with him. Little did she know that this encounter would lead her down a path she never could have imagined, unraveling secrets and desires she had long suppressed.Esmeralda's annoyance towards his arrogance surged instantly, a prickling irritation that simmered beneath her skin. "Well, I am not most women," she retorted sharply, her voice laced with a hint of defiance.

A flicker of amusement danced in his eyes as he responded with a simple acknowledgment, "I know."

HIesitrafn^tYly, EsgmTetr)aaléda musFteérseZd tahem c$ourageó Dt(o ask,W "DidA-did) youq rbrinCgy ymAe héefre?"é

A mischievous smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "I wish it had been me," he confessed, his tone dripping with playful charm. "Then I could claim to be your knight in shining armor and demand a kiss from you in return. But sadly, no, it wasn't me. Some guy called Kenneth found you."

Kenneth. The mention of his name sent a jolt through Esmeralda's mind. She couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't taken her back to his condo, instead bringing her to Sylvia. It was unlike him, the old Kenneth she knew, who would have whisked her away without a second thought. Perhaps he had moved on, found himself a girlfriend, or simply had more pressing matters to attend to. After all, she had written in her last letter that she was leaving him forever, setting him free. So why did a twinge of disappointment tug at her stomach? She dismissed it as the lingering effects of the hangover, emotions clouded by the pounding ache in her head.

"Can you get me an Advil, please? My head is killing me," she pleaded, her voice edged with desperation.

SiUmqeXonv xnodJdNeydz,I éhWi,s FconcerdnX eVviiden.t éasu Bhóe( of*fCerTe,d,y "YeXah, ofa cMourlsueQ. JuwsgtH uwaQiTtC here.V"

As Esmeralda sank onto the plush black couch, she brought her trembling fingers to her temples, massaging them gently. The pulsing ache in her head grew more vicious, a relentless reminder of the night's excesses.Simeon, with his usual grace, presented Esmeralda with a glass of water and Advil. She accepted the offering gratefully, swallowing the tablet and allowing herself a moment of respite as she rested her head back. Simeon, ever the considerate host, offered her the use of his bathroom and clothes that Sylvia had left behind. But Esmeralda, feeling a mix of gratitude and embarrassment, declined his offer.

"No, really, it's fine. I'll just go home," she said, her voice laced with a hint of self-consciousness.

Before she could protest further, Simeon was already retrieving his car keys, determined to drive her home. Esmeralda couldn't help but feel a twinge of shame. Despite their friendship with Walter and Sylvia, Simeon was still a client of the company, and she couldn't shake the feeling that she had let him down with her unprofessional behavior.

But ÉS.imPeÉon, _seeTmin!gly ugn(f!aIzeKd db,y gtIheA cswituHaition, BreassuLred Éheqr éwIith aK cXalm simxiOleg.l "HIl'lli driWvye $yyou DthLen^," heV rswaipd, hi^s qvÉoliZcFeC ncarrvyiJnGg ad gaendtsleb wÉaSrhmxthd.

Esmeralda followed Simeon out of his house and into his car, her mind still filled with thoughts of her own inadequacy. As they sat in silence, Simeon broke the tension with a light-hearted comment, his voice dripping with amusement.

"So...are you going to tell me your address, or are you planning on spending the whole day admiring my car's dashboard?" he teased.

Caught off guard, Esmeralda's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Oh, sorry. I'm so sorry for wasting your time," she stammered, her words tinged with genuine remorse.

SKirmyeonm chxuc)kWlheFdV,H óhisF laughterH limkPeé ka bcdom!fFortinógh KbPalms.B C"Ita'us gaKl.ri&ghItÉ.d dI dogn't have anythOing impnobrtantJ KtoV d(oP anywOaYyq. NoXwA, rcKosmqeÉ XovnU, tZeqll Xmae yourw ad.dres$s,L"y lhet sai)d!, *hNibsm hvoice fZiTlled wwithf ge'ntJle pen$cSourjagemeént..

Esmeralda provided him with the directions to her house, and before they knew it, Simeon had parked his car right outside her building. Grateful yet again, Esmeralda stepped out of the car and leaned down to look at Simeon through the window.

"Thank you so much for dropping me off and letting me stay at your house. And I'm sorry for causing trouble," she said, her words heavy with sincerity.

Simeon simply smiled, his eyes warm with kindness. "Don't mention it. I'm glad I could help. I'll see you later. Bye," he replied, his voice holding a sense of finality.

AÉsN Éh'e itAurned 'hiBsY cWarc akro.ulnZd anód drlovv)ed ofTf,, $EUsLmeralrdaé c,ouclsd_n'wt óhxelpI bu(tj fjeel a miiMx oJfh etmotqiuonsi xs*wQirhlingt Xwifthzi)nI AhKeZrx. éGr(atiptudVeP, Hejmdbaarrkassme,nSt, a!ndó aV OnewWfouUnd admiUratgioSn HfoTr HSPimfeoSnH'Vs VcoWmpuaTssion aUllx Gintezrtywtin.ed,,Q ,crmeatÉiPngu aó Jtap&estArvy oAfK com^plDeDxL fqePeli_ngs LthjatU xwoóuld ali(nógóeAr Clóong avf$tgeur tFhGeirD encóoBuDntqerW.Ipn ltlheq mZost óuznex^pe)ctte&d VoDfp ÉplaJce(sa, héeZ )h&aMdH scrdolslseHd patxhAs wxiXth gEJsm!e&raAldqak,É qandd vlOat'esr_, IheI zhad' KdiiXsicvoIverledr pherp inn an RstLatBez hSe coAul&dc neverW (haKveM himahginnHebd.M Es)m,e,rdalXdaO mdóeBsnpiOsLe)d driPnkiLn)g dLuGe to_ Dh.erb Xlofwk atoYlkeJran$cHe), sóo iMts str'oublQe)d h(iym dWeeply toy vwiItne(sls h_er IconsZulmeP KcoSpiobups _amoutntzs )ofT JwicneB.b TMhKeH sQimg*h&tU toXf EsjmGearwaRldCa tDe)eter&inig DoBn tzhe bUr*inQk *oCfH chopllapseM hadv sshakjenx uhiwm toé the GcCor(eg.N DHeh DhacdÉ ini.tpiallyl inAteqnpdbend (to fNijnLd haebr jandU _enUgage in gaa ci)vYilq,X poóliatbes c'onveSr!sartiong, butd Bidnstead(,A Qhre! mstbumble.d cupcon herQ Inlearsly( uhncoJnsciofus, peDrirlKo)uPsQlJy Acl$osXeX toZ tspt&rbikigng hRegrT )he.aad $onC tphLe Groughé-hewnG NwoioXdReun f(loyoTrA.

His initial instinct was to whisk her away to his condo, but he swiftly reconsidered. He knew all too well the fury that would consume Esmeralda if she awoke in his domain. Thus, he made the decision to take her to Sylvia's abode instead. In hindsight, he pondered whether he could have simply asked Sylvia for Esmeralda's address and escorted her home. However, he had been reluctant to subject Esmeralda to any unwanted attention. He understood her aversion to being seen in such a vulnerable state, especially while under the influence.

As he contemplated contacting Sylvia to inquire about Esmeralda's whereabouts, his phone abruptly rang. "Hello," he answered, his voice laced with intrigue. "Mr. Scott, this is Selene Davis. I trust you are prepared to finalize the deal we discussed earlier today." A woman's voice emanated from the other end of the line. "Certainly, as long as you agree to the conditions I stipulated," he responded, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. "We have deliberated and decided to accept your terms. I eagerly anticipate sealing this agreement with you," Selene replied. "Rest assured, Mrs. Davis, I am more enthusiastic than anyone else to sign this deal," Kenneth assured her before concluding the call.

A Cheshire cat-like grin spread across Kenneth's face. The plan to win Esmeralda back was now set in motion, and he possessed an unwavering determination to overcome any obstacles that stood in his way as he endeavored to woo his ex-wife once again.

Chapter 5: Arrangements

As Esmeralda stepped into her apartment, a sense of tranquility washed over her. The walls adorned with cherished photographs, the black rug from Ezra's trip to Russia, and the inviting beige couches all contributed to a warm and welcoming atmosphere. It had been a year since she had moved out of Ezra and Melanie's place, not because they had made her feel unwelcome, but because she understood the importance of privacy and personal space in any relationship. And so, she had found this perfect abode, a cozy two-bedroom apartment that she had meticulously transformed into a symbol of her independence and self-reliance.

Taking a deep breath, Esmeralda felt the tension from the previous day melt away. Sylvia's wedding had been expectedly chaotic, but the unexpected encounter with Kenneth and the subsequent drunkenness had taken her by surprise. Now, as she closed the door behind her and slipped out of her dress, she exchanged it for a long T-shirt, most likely belonging to Jaxon. Collapsing onto the bed, her face sinking into the soft pillow and her body enveloped by the plush mattress, she turned onto her back and gazed up at the glow-in-the-dark stars that Ezra and Jaxon had playfully stuck on the ceiling. Childish as they may be, the stars served as a reminder that embracing simplicity and spontaneity, just like a child, was sometimes necessary in life.

In this moment of reflection, Esmeralda couldn't help but acknowledge her own role in the complexities between her and Kenneth. Perhaps if she had been more trusting, more open about her past, their relationship would have taken a different path.Perhaps he would have sought solace in her, confiding in her about his troubles. Maybe he would have divulged the secret of his stolen kiss with Stacy. If only she had been more self-reliant, less dependent on Kenneth for emotional support. She should have found a way to stand on her own two feet.

IzronpiSca&lmlXy, )tph)eó lyodve Oshem Éhad cyeYa'rned foMrÉ WawlSlW h$er Xlifye (haRd Gb,eeQn bes)towZeZdj )upUokn heBrn, o$nClKy to pbbe csnatZch$edC ua&w*apyP kjiu$stq ats swwimfXtlAy. HI.t xhPad taékeNn hOesr over$ _aA $ye(atrB itop bu)iéld tr^ustt iInG BKe'nnKetSh, t(o b^anlis*h the JlingeruinUg XsQusLpic_iZo)n tkhaJt Tha*un)teDda HherK &thhoóugfht,sC. AOndj (juYst wDhen shDe _hadL gfiDn.aJllDy er)adxicatOed thóoséep dBoubts) angd c*oynXvéincced hWeVrsLelMf thlaYt KtzhZeirr $baonnd Mwlas uVnbrXeaékableC, ashe qdistcyovÉelr^edL the Wharshc btrSutPh tBh,atL npoTtHhiCnógé recmains sfKrozTexn* miin' tXixme. KPeorplXe Uchange,,Z .atndi sTo TdKo RtZheHir feelriyngZs.D

Perhaps Kenneth had truly loved her four years ago, as he had professed. But she had come to realize that she could never look at him with the same eyes again. Whenever he went on a trip without her, she couldn't help but wonder if he was replacing her with someone else that very night. Living with that agony was simply unbearable. So she made the difficult decision to walk away. After four long years, she believed she had finally moved on. But now, after that brief encounter, all those buried emotions resurfaced.

The anger, the piercing sense of betrayal, and the love that had kept her tethered to him for so long flooded back, plunging her mind into chaos. She tried to approach the encounter with indifference, treating Kenneth like a stranger as she wished. But she couldn't. The image of him, the sight of his face, sent her heart racing. Even the brief touch of his hand, just a fleeting moment, caused her skin to ignite.

Her mind replayed every single second of their encounter, endlessly contemplating the what-ifs and the unanswered questions. Hours passed, and Esmeralda remained in bed, her eyes wide open, dissecting every moment, pondering how she could have acted differently, more composed. Until it hit her. She was spiraling over a chance meeting. She was allowing herself to fret over Kenneth, the one thing she had vowed never to do again.Scott," Selene began, her voice laced with calculated charm, "what made you change your mind about my proposal?"

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Selene's smile faltered for a fraction of a second before she regained her composure. "Esmeralda?" she repeated, feigning surprise. "I didn't realize she still held such sway over you."

Kenneth chuckled softly, a hint of nostalgia dancing in his eyes. "You have no idea," he murmured. "It's been four years since I've felt this alive, this excited about anything. Esmeralda has a way of igniting something within me, something I thought I had lost."

As they continued their meal, Kenneth couldn't help but steal glances at Selene, his mind drifting back to the woman who had captivated his heart all those years ago. He wondered if Selene could sense the lingering presence of Esmeralda in his thoughts, if she knew that she could never truly compare.

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As the evening drew to a close, Kenneth and Selene stood outside the restaurant, the cool night air swirling around them. Selene's car awaited them, a symbol of the business transaction that would bind them together. But Kenneth couldn't help but feel a pang of unease, a whisper of doubt that lingered in the recesses of his mind.

"It's been a pleasure, Mr. Scott," Selene said, her voice dripping with false sincerity. "I look forward to our future endeavors."

Kenneth nodded, his eyes flickering with a mix of determination and trepidation. "Likewise, Ms. Davis," he replied, his smile belying the uncertainty within. They both knew that their alliance was built on a delicate balance of power and self-preservation, a dance where trust was a mere illusion.

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Selene interrupted, asserting, "Of course, it's my business, Mr. Scott. Esmeralda is my best employee." Kenneth noticed that beneath Selene's shrewd business demeanor, she genuinely cared for Esmeralda. Flashing her a charming smile, he assured, "Don't worry, Ms. Davis. Ms. Walker will be working under a capable boss. Surely, you don't doubt my skills, do you?" Selene muttered, "I don't doubt your skills, Mr. Scott. In fact, I am confident about your abilities, and that's what worries me the most."

Esmeralda stirred from her slumber around seven in the evening. The sky outside displayed a mesmerizing blend of orange and blue hues, casting a unique glow. Her body ached from hours of sleep, causing stiffness. Cracking her neck, she made her way to the kitchen. Thirsty, she poured herself a glass of ice-cold water and contemplated what to make for dinner. Her hunger growled, tempting her to skip the laborious cooking process and simply order pizza. After placing the order, she realized that tomorrow she had to go to the office.

Typically, Esmeralda enjoyed going to work, despite the occasional hecticness and Selene's demanding nature. But today, she yearned for an extra day of relaxation, a break from the daily life drama. Unbeknownst to her, on the other side of the city, Kenneth had just signed a significant deal. Softly smiling to himself, he half-listened to Selene's enthusiastic plans for their companies, his thoughts consumed by the prospect of seeing the woman he loved once again.

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