Fated Encounters

Chapter 24

Patrick sat at the kitchen table, the faint glow of the early morning sun streaming through the window. The contact list lay in front of him, the names of powerful allies he would need for the battle ahead. But no matter how many plans he made, no matter how many names he wrote down, something felt off. Angela.

His thoughts kept drifting back to her, the way she had looked at him before she left, how her eyes had held so much hurt. It wasn’t just guilt that gnawed at him—it was the unmistakable feeling that he had lost something far more important than his powers. He had lost her.

Rex, sensing his master’s unease, padded over and rested his head on Patrick’s lap. Patrick absently scratched the dog behind the ears, his mind racing as he thought about where Angela might have gone. He had searched everywhere they’d been, the places they had fought and hidden, but she was always one step ahead of him. It was like she had vanished completely, leaving no trace behind.

Then, something clicked. Angela’s diary.

Patrick stood abruptly, nearly knocking over his chair in his haste. He remembered finding her diary months ago when he had been waiting for her to finish her exams. It had been full of personal thoughts and secrets, but one entry in particular stood out now. In it, Angela had written about a girl—Sasha. Her best friend, someone she trusted deeply, someone she had confided in. If anyone knew where Angela had gone, it would be Sasha.

He rushed to his room, digging through his bag until he found the crumpled piece of paper where he had scribbled notes from Angela’s diary. He hadn’t thought much of it back then, but now it was his only lead.

“Sasha,” he muttered to himself, scanning the name over and over. “She mentioned Sasha lived in a nearby town. It’s the best place to start.”

Without wasting another minute, Patrick grabbed his jacket and called Rex to follow him. They headed for the door, the urgency in his steps growing with each second. Sasha was the key. If he could find her, he could find Angela.

---

The drive to the town where Sasha lived was long and tense. Patrick kept his thoughts on Angela, imagining all the places she might have hidden. He pictured her in every moment they had shared together—the way her smile lit up when she was happy, the determination in her eyes when she talked about their mission, the way she made him feel like nothing else in the world mattered when she was close.

It wasn’t until he reached the outskirts of Sasha’s town that he began to feel a glimmer of hope. He parked the van outside a small row of apartments, the address scrawled on the paper from Angela’s diary in his hand. This had to be the place.

Rex sniffed the air as they approached the building, his ears perking up. Patrick’s heart raced as he reached the door and knocked. For a moment, nothing happened, and then the door creaked open to reveal a young woman with dark curls and sharp green eyes. She stared at him, surprised and guarded.

“Can I help you?” she asked, her tone wary.

Patrick hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Are you Sasha? Sasha Matthews?”

The woman narrowed her eyes but nodded slowly. “Yeah, I’m Sasha. Who are you?”

“I’m Patrick. I’m looking for Angela,” he said, his voice softening at the mention of her name. “She’s your best friend, right? I think she might be staying with you.”

At the mention of Angela, Sasha’s expression changed. Her guard went up instantly, and her eyes hardened. “You’ve got a lot of nerve showing up here,” she said, stepping forward and blocking the doorway. “After everything you’ve done to her, you think you can just come looking for her like that?”

Patrick was taken aback by the sudden hostility. “What do you mean? I just... I need to talk to her.”

Sasha crossed her arms, glaring at him. “Do you even know what you did to her? She trusted you, Patrick. She cared about you, and you broke her heart. Angela doesn’t need this right now. She’s been through enough.”

“I know,” Patrick said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I know I hurt her. And I’ve been trying to find her ever since. Please, I just need to talk to her. I need to explain.”

Sasha looked him up and down, as if weighing his sincerity. For a moment, it seemed like she might send him away, but then she sighed, rubbing her temples in frustration.

“Look, I don’t know if I should let you see her,” she said, her voice softer but still firm. “She’s finally starting to heal. She doesn’t need more heartbreak.”

Patrick’s heart sank. “I don’t want to hurt her. I just... I need to make things right. Please, Sasha. If you know where she is, tell me.”

Sasha hesitated, then looked over her shoulder as if debating something. Finally, she turned back to him with a sigh. “She’s staying here. But if you do anything to hurt her again, I swear, I’ll make you regret it.”

Patrick nodded, relief flooding through him. “I won’t. I promise.”

Sasha stepped aside, allowing him into the apartment. “She’s in the kitchen,” she said quietly. “But I’m warning you, Patrick—she’s not the same girl you left.”

Patrick nodded, steeling himself for what was to come. He walked slowly toward the kitchen, his heart in his throat. There, standing by the counter, was Angela.

Her back was turned to him as she rinsed a plate in the sink, her hair falling in soft waves down her back. She looked calm, but Patrick knew better. He could feel the tension in the room, the distance between them more than just physical.

“Angela,” he whispered, his voice trembling.

She froze at the sound of his voice, the plate slipping from her hands and clattering into the sink. Slowly, she turned to face him, her eyes wide with shock.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence stretched on, filled with all the unsaid words, all the pain, and all the love that still lingered between them.

Finally, Angela spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “Patrick... what are you doing here?”

And in that moment, Patrick knew that whatever happened next, he had to find a way to make things right. Because without her, nothing else mattered.