Echoes

Chapter 30

As Emily lay in the darkness, her mind racing with fear and uncertainty, she heard a voice that sent chills down her spine.

"Emily," Charlie's voice echoed softly through the room.

Her heart stopped. She bolted upright, eyes darting around the dimly lit space, and there he was—Charlie, standing by the doorway. She gasped, her mind refusing to believe what she was seeing. Anger surged through her, drowning out the shock.

Without thinking, she grabbed the nearest object—a small lamp—and hurled it at him. "How could you do this to us, to me?!" she screamed, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions.

Charlie didn't move, didn't flinch. The lamp missed him by inches, shattering against the wall behind him. He just stood there, taking it, his face etched with a sorrow that only fueled her rage.

"You ruined my life, Charlie!" she yelled, grabbing a book from the table and throwing it at him with all her strength. "And I don't even know if you're actually here or if I'm just losing my mind!"

The book hit his chest and fell to the floor, but Charlie didn't react. Instead, he slowly walked toward her, closing the distance between them until he was kneeling at her feet.

"I never meant for it to be like this," he said, his voice trembling with regret.

Emily's anger faltered, but the hurt and confusion remained. Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked down at him, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

Charlie reached for her hand, gently placing it on his chest, right over his heart. She could feel the warmth of his skin, the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath her fingers.

"Is this real enough for you?" he asked softly, his eyes pleading with her to believe him.

The warmth, the rhythm of his heartbeat—it was undeniable. Emily's resolve crumbled, and she fell to her knees, wrapping her arms around him in a desperate embrace.

She buried her face in his shoulder, her tears soaking into his shirt. "I don't know what's real anymore, Charlie," she whispered, her voice broken. "I'm so scared."

Charlie held her close, his arms tightening around her. "I'm real, Emily," he murmured into her hair. "And I'm here. I'm so sorry for everything."

They stayed like that for a long time, holding each other in the silence, both of them clinging to whatever this moment was—whatever it meant.

Charlie takes a deep breath, the weight of his past heavy on his shoulders. "Emily, my real name is Evan King. I'm from Washington, D.C. I've been deep undercover for years, investigating a crime boss who traffics drugs and people. Every time I got close, he was always one step ahead."

Emily clenches her fists, anger and confusion swirling in her chest. "And you never thought to tell me? You let me think you were dead, Charlie—Evan—whatever your name is!"

His eyes soften with regret. "I know, and I'm sorry. I never wanted this for us. I never wanted to cause you so much pain. But I had to make you believe I was gone. It was the only way to keep you safe."

She shakes her head, tears welling up in her eyes. "Safe? You call this safe? You ruined everything!"

Charlie, or Evan, kneels in front of her, desperation in his voice. "I was ready to leave the field, to live a normal life with you. But because of what I did—because I got too close and revealed who I was—a hit was put out on me. I had no choice but to disappear, to fake my death, until I could find a way to get to you."

Emily stares at him, her heart torn between the love she once had and the pain he's caused. "So, what now? You want us to run away, just like that?"

"I want us to have the life we dreamed of," he says, his voice trembling with emotion. "But I need you to trust me, just one last time. We can leave this all behind, start fresh, and be together. But we have to leave now, before it's too late."

Emily hesitates, her mind racing with everything she's learned, everything she's felt. The man she loved, the man she thought she knew, is standing before her, asking her to trust him again. But can she?