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

Chapter 41

He came to my room and knocked softly on the door. I didn’t open it, nor did I tell him to come in. Instead, I stood silently behind the door, my heart aching with every passing second.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, but I knew he could sense me standing there. I clenched my fists and pressed myself against the floor, fighting the overwhelming urge to fling the door open and fall into his arms.

“I’ll give you time to think and clear your mind,” he said, his tone heavy with understanding.

I listened as his footsteps retreated, the sound growing fainter with each step until my heart sank. The silence that followed felt unbearable until I heard his car start. The hum of the engine grew louder, and then it faded as he pulled out of the driveway. I ran to the window and watched his car until it disappeared from sight, leaving an emptiness I couldn’t shake.

A whole day has passed since then. He’s called me multiple times, but I couldn’t bring myself to answer. I was terrified that hearing his voice would shatter the fragile hold I had on my emotions and reduce me to tears.

Instead, he called Mom. She told me he had reached home safely and had asked her to pass the message along.

I lay on my bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, my mind racing. A thousand times, I’ve imagined grabbing my bag and running to him. A thousand times, I’ve thought about the moment I’d see him again, about how it might feel to just let everything go.

And a thousand times, I’ve stopped myself. Each time, the weight of my hesitation grew heavier, the tug-of-war between my heart and my mind leaving me paralyzed.

I was lost in my thoughts, staring blankly at the ceiling, when my mom’s voice pulled me back to reality.

“Azalea, come down! There’s a delivery in your name, and they need your signature,” she called out from downstairs.

“Ugh!” I groaned, dragging myself off the bed. My limbs felt heavy as I made my way down, still half-immersed in the fog of my thoughts.

When I reached the living room, I froze in my tracks. It was overflowing with flowers—bouquets of every kind, in every possible shade. My eyes darted around, trying to make sense of the scene, as more delivery men walked in, carrying even more arrangements. The sweet scent of flowers filled the air, almost dizzying in its intensity.

“What... what is all this, Mom?” I asked, baffled.

“I have no idea,” she replied with a shrug, retreating to the kitchen as though this was just another normal day.

One of the delivery men approached me, holding a clipboard. “We need your signature, ma’am,” he said politely.

I took the clipboard, my mind still reeling, and scribbled my name at the bottom of the paper. “Thank you,” he said before turning to leave.

“Wait!” I called after him, realizing too late that I hadn’t asked the most obvious question. “Can you at least tell me who sent all this—”

But the door had already clicked shut behind him, leaving my question hanging in the air.

I turned back to the sea of flowers, my heart pounding. Who could have done this? And why? My thoughts raced, but no answer made sense. It wasn’t just the sheer volume of flowers; it was the mystery of it all that left me feeling both overwhelmed and uneasy.

I stood there for a moment, staring at the overwhelming sight before me. The living room, once a cozy and familiar space, now looked more like an elaborate garden. Whoever had sent all these flowers had certainly gone to great lengths to make a statement—but what kind of statement?