FATE - can a person in one lifetime fall in love with the same person twice?

Chapter 40

“Are you trying to control me?” I asked, shoving him away, my heart pounding. Yes, he confessed his feelings, but that didn’t mean I’d let him dictate my life.

“No…” he started, his voice soft, but I cut him off, my frustration spilling over.

“You accused me that night too—when we argued after I had coffee with David. You didn’t even listen. You just shouted at me and stormed off, slamming the door. Do you have any idea how terrified I was? I thought… I thought you might actually hit me.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and unspoken for too long. The memories rushed back with an unforgiving force, bringing with them the ache I had tried so hard to bury. It felt as though I was finally waking up, coming back to my senses after being trapped in a haze.

His face twisted with hurt and disbelief. “Azalea, there’s no way I would ever lay a hand on you. Not ever. No matter how angry I get.”

I looked down, my voice trembling. “But you did shout at me. You ignored me for days after that. And then… you were seen with Elizabeth.   Pictures of you two were everywhere, all over the internet, making it look like you were... together.”

He took a steadying breath, stepping closer and cupping my face gently, forcing me to meet his eyes. “I explained everything last night, didn’t I? You seemed to understand… you said you were fine.” His thumb traced softly along my cheek.

He leaned in, his lips hovering just a breath away from mine. But I wasn’t falling for it this time. I pushed him back again, creating distance between us.

“Don’t play games with me,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “Yesterday, you tried to smooth things over, to make me forget with sweet words and soft touches. But I’m not falling for it anymore. I won’t be manipulated.”

The words hung heavy between us, and for a moment, he just looked at me, his expression a mix of regret and longing.

“I’ve told you everything, Azalea,” he said, his voice low, a trace of frustration creeping in. “Are you still angry?”

“What do you think?” I snapped, shaking my head. “You think telling me our childhood story makes everything okay? Like it’s that easy to fix?”

He stood there, looking at me with those intense eyes. “But are you coming home with me? You’ve packed everything.” He motioned toward my bag, which was sitting by the door.

I didn’t answer immediately. Instead, I walked over to the bag, opened it, and began to unpack everything. How could I let go of everything so easily? May be his touch his confession sort circuited my mind. “I’ve changed my mind,” I muttered under my breath. “Now I’m even more angry. You hid everything from me. You knew the truth from the beginning, and you kept it from me.”

I didn’t answer immediately. Instead, I walked over to the bag, opened it, and began to unpack everything, my hands moving with determination. How could I just let go of everything so easily? Maybe his touch, his confession, had short-circuited my mind for a moment, but the truth still lingered, sharp and undeniable.

“I’ve changed my mind,” I muttered, almost to myself. “Now I’m even more angry. You hid everything from me, Eden. You knew the truth from the beginning, and you kept it from me.” My words were heavy with hurt and disbelief, each syllable carrying the weight of a broken trust.

His face tightened as he absorbed my words, and he took a cautious step closer. “Not from the beginning, Azalea. I swear, I didn’t know right away. I only found out when I saw your mom.”

“To me, it’s the same thing,” I replied, my voice rising. “You should’ve told me, Eden. From the very beginning. I had a right to know.”

A heavy silence settled between us, the tension thickening as he took in my words. I didn’t know what I wanted more—an apology that felt real, or just space to breathe, to process everything. Either way, the ache in my chest wouldn’t disappear so easily.