Unraveled

Epilogue

His eyes fluttered open, the world coming into focus as soft light filtered through gauzy curtains. The sheets beneath him felt cool, unfamiliar, as if he'd never slept here before. His heart thudded in his chest, a heavy confusion pressing down on him. He tried to move, but his limbs felt leaden, almost foreign.

Where am I?

The thought circled his mind as he stared at the ceiling. Nothing felt right. Nothing looked familiar.

A soft laugh broke the silence, and he turned his head slowly, his gaze meeting the figure beside him. A woman with chestnut hair lay next to him, propped on one elbow, her eyes bright with amusement.

"Morning, sleepyhead," she teased, her voice light. "You've been out for a while."

He blinked, struggling to catch up. "Who...?"

She laughed again, a melodic sound that sent a shiver down his spine. "Oh, come on. Don't tell me you're still groggy from last night." She brushed her hand against his cheek, her touch soft but unsettlingly familiar. "You know who I am. I'm Lila, your fiancée."

Fiancée? The word lodged itself in his mind, unsettling him. He frowned, trying to piece together his fragmented thoughts, but everything was clouded, distant. He didn't remember her. He didn't remember last night. He didn't remember anything.

Lila.

The name meant nothing to him. She watched him with a knowing smile, as if she saw the confusion on his face. "I think you had too much fun last night. Let's take it easy today."

He nodded slowly, uncertain. His mind was still hazy, everything feeling out of place, yet something about her touch and her smile lulled him into a temporary calm. He tried to focus on her face, the curve of her lips, the way her hair fell over her shoulder, but it was like looking through fog—familiar yet distant.

He swung his legs over the bed and sat up, taking in the room around him as it came into sharper focus. It was warm and lived-in, decorated with soft, earthy colors. Photographs lined the walls—images of him and her, laughing, holding hands. Pictures of a life he didn't recognize.

Lila slipped out of bed after him, her bare feet softly padding against the hardwood floor. She moved with an ease that made his skin prickle. Reaching for a robe, she glanced back at him with a playful look. "I'm going to make some coffee. Want some?"

He hesitated. "Yeah... sure."

Lila leaned down, pressing a kiss to his temple. "Be right back."

He watched her leave, her footsteps fading as she disappeared around the corner. For a long moment, he sat in silence, his mind spinning. Nothing made sense. His thoughts were scattered, his memory blank. The more he tried to think, the more his head pounded.

I don't even know my name.

Panic surged through him, his breath quickening as he realized the depth of his memory loss. He didn't know who he was. He didn't know where he was. And yet, everything around him—the room, the photos, Lila—seemed to insist that he belonged here. It felt wrong. It felt terrifying.

He stood, his legs unsteady, and wandered toward the open door. The apartment beyond was quiet, save for the faint clatter of dishes in the kitchen. Stepping into the hallway, he glanced at the photos lining the walls. Each image showed him with Lila—laughing, embracing. A life he couldn't recall, a history he didn't recognize.

As he rounded the corner, he spotted another figure—leaning casually against the kitchen counter, sipping from a mug. A tall man with dark hair and piercing blue eyes, his expression unreadable.

The man looked up as he entered, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Morning, Caleb. You're up early."

He froze, his heart hammering. His name was Caleb. The name felt vaguely familiar, like a shadow at the edge of his memory, but it wasn't enough to anchor him. "Who...?"

The man chuckled, setting his mug on the counter. "We really did have a good time last night, didn't we?" He exchanged a look with Lila, who had just entered the kitchen carrying two cups of coffee. "You might've gone a little too hard. Don't worry, it happens."

Caleb took a hesitant step forward, his confusion deepening. "I... don't remember anything."

Lila shot the man a look he couldn't interpret. She smiled warmly as she handed Caleb a cup. "That's okay, babe. You've been through a lot lately. Just relax today."

Caleb's hand shook as he took the cup, his mind still in turmoil. "Who are you?"

The man raised an eyebrow, his smile widening just slightly. "You really don't remember, do you? I'm Aubrey, your roommate."

Caleb nodded slowly, sipping the coffee, though it did little to settle his mind. As he tried to ground himself, Aubrey leaned casually against the counter, sipping his own drink. "You've been a huge help lately, you know. That investment idea we talked about? It's really going to pay off."

Caleb looked up sharply. "Investment?"

Aubrey smiled easily. "Yeah. You've been funding a project of mine. Don't worry—you'll see the returns soon." He glanced at Lila, who was watching Caleb closely, her expression soft, almost too soft. "We're really grateful for everything."

A knot of unease tightened in Caleb's chest. He didn't remember making any investments. He didn't remember anything. The fog in his mind was thick, and each step in this unfamiliar reality felt like walking on thin ice. He looked down at his cup, his reflection distorted in the dark liquid, wondering if anything here was real.

"I don't..." Caleb hesitated, his voice wavering. "I don't remember making any investments."

Lila moved closer, her hand resting gently on his arm. "That's alright, Caleb. It's been a stressful time. You don't have to worry about the details. We've got everything covered."

Her words were meant to comfort him, but they only intensified his dread. Something wasn't right. This whole situation felt wrong, like a puzzle with pieces that didn't fit. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was hidden just out of reach, lurking beneath the surface.

Aubrey's eyes flicked back to Caleb, and for a moment, something cold, calculating, flashed in his gaze. "Just relax," Aubrey said smoothly. "You're in good hands."

But Caleb didn't feel safe. He felt trapped.

He glanced around the apartment, his eyes landing on more photos—each one showing him with Lila, or with Aubrey, all smiling, all perfectly posed. Too perfect.

"Can I... go out?" Caleb asked suddenly, his voice uncertain.

Aubrey's smile faltered, just for a fraction of a second, before he quickly recovered. "Go out? Why would you need to? Everything you need is right here."

Lila stepped in front of him, her eyes wide with concern. "You don't need to go out, Caleb. We've got everything handled. Just take it easy today, alright? You've been through enough."

Her words felt like an order disguised as concern, and Caleb's heart pounded. He took a step back, his mind racing. "I just... I need some air."

Aubrey's voice cut through the room, cold and commanding. "You're staying here, Caleb."

Caleb froze, his blood chilling at the sudden change in Aubrey's tone. The friendly, casual mask was gone, replaced by something much darker. Aubrey's gaze locked onto his, unblinking, and in that moment, Caleb understood the truth.

He wasn't free. He was a prisoner.

And they held all the control.