The Ghost from the Past
---
The sixty-second week, an old enemy returned.
Not Volkov.
Not Pierce.
Someone worse.
Someone who knew Christabel before Damien.
Someone who wanted her back.
---
His name was Adrian.
He had been her first love. Before Marcus. Before Damien. Before everything.
They had met in college. He was older. Charismatic. Dangerous in a way that had excited her then and terrified her now.
He had left her. Disappeared. No explanation. No goodbye.
And now he was back.
---
The letter arrived on a Tuesday.
Handwritten. On paper that smelled like expensive cologne.
My dearest Christabel,
It's been a long time. Too long. I've been following your success. Your marriage. Your daughter. You've built a beautiful life.
I miss you.
I know I have no right to say that. I know I'm the one who left. I know I'm the one who gave up.
But I miss you.
I'll be in the city next week. At the old café. The one where we used to meet. Thursday. 3 PM.
I hope you'll come.
Yours,
Adrian
---
Christabel read the letter three times.
Her hands were shaking.
Her heart was pounding.
Damien was in the doorway.
"What is it?"
"An old friend."
"You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Maybe I have."
---
She handed him the letter.
He read it in silence.
His face didn't change.
But his hands tightened around the paper.
"Adrian."
"You remember him."
"I remember you crying over him."
"I cried over a lot of things."
"You cried over him."
She walked to him.
Took the letter from his hands.
"He wants to see me."
"Are you going to go?"
"I don't know."
"Why wouldn't you?"
"Because I'm afraid."
"Of what?"
"Of what I might feel."
---
He was quiet for a long moment.
The city hummed below them.
Lena slept in the nursery.
"You should go," he said.
"What?"
"You should go. See him. Hear what he has to say."
"Why?"
"Because if you don't, you'll always wonder."
"I don't wonder about him."
"You wonder about the past. About who you were. About who you could have been."
"I know who I am."
"Do you?"
---
She looked at him.
His dark eyes. His steady hands. His patient face.
"I know who I am with you."
"That's not the same thing."
"It's the only thing that matters."
"It's not the only thing." He touched her face. "You matter. Not just who you are with me. Who you are. Period."
"I don't know who that is."
"Then maybe Adrian can help you remember."
---
The next few days were strange.
Christabel thought about the letter. About Adrian. About the man who had left her.
She thought about the way he had broken her heart. The way she had stopped believing in love. The way Damien had brought her back to life.
She thought about the woman she used to be.
The one who had loved Adrian.
The one who had been destroyed by him.
The one who had rebuilt herself from nothing.
---
"I'm going to go," she told Damien on Wednesday night.
They were in bed. The city was dark. Lena was asleep.
"To see Adrian?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure?"
"No."
"Then why are you going?"
"Because I need to close a door."
"What door?"
"The door to who I used to be."
---
Thursday came too fast.
Christabel stood in front of her closet. Staring at her clothes.
What do you wear to meet the man who broke your heart?
Something powerful, she decided.
Something that said I'm fine without you.
Something that said I'm better than fine.
She chose a black dress. Simple. Elegant. The kind of dress that made her look like the woman she had become.
Damien watched her from the doorway.
"You look beautiful," he said.
"I look like I'm going to war."
"Same thing."
"Different intention."
---
She drove to the café alone.
No guards. No weapons. No backup.
Just her.
And the ghost of who she used to be.
---
The café was the same.
Same tables. Same chairs. Same smell of coffee and nostalgia.
Adrian was sitting in the corner.
The same corner where they used to sit.
He looked older. Thinner. His hair was gray at the temples. His eyes were tired.
But he smiled when he saw her.
The same smile.
The one that had made her fall in love with him.
"Christabel."
"Adrian."
"You came."
"I came."
---
She sat across from him.
The table was small. Too small. She could see every line on his face. Every regret in his eyes.
"You look good," he said.
"I look like myself."
"You look like her. The woman I used to know."
"That woman is gone."
"Is she?" He leaned forward. "Because I see her. In your eyes. In the way you hold yourself."
"You see what you want to see."
"Maybe." He smiled. "Maybe that's all any of us see."
---
They talked for an hour.
About the past. About the present. About the choices that had brought them here.
He told her about his marriage. His divorce. His children.
She told him about Damien. About Lena. About the life she had built.
"I'm happy," she said.
"I can see that."
"I'm happier than I've ever been."
"I can see that too."
"Then why are you here?"
He was quiet for a moment.
"Because I needed to see you. Because I needed to apologize. Because I needed to tell you that leaving you was the biggest mistake of my life."
---
She should have felt something.
Anger. Sadness. Satisfaction.
She felt nothing.
"I forgave you a long time ago," she said.
"Did you?"
"I had to. In order to move on. In order to love again."
"Damien."
"Yes."
"He's a lucky man."
"No." She shook her head. "I'm the lucky one."
---
When the hour was over, she stood.
"I have to go."
"So soon?"
"I have a daughter. A husband. A life."
"I understand."
"Do you?"
"I'm trying to."
She looked at him.
"Don't contact me again."
"Christabel—"
"I mean it. This was closure. For both of us. But it's over now."
He nodded.
"Goodbye, Adrian."
"Goodbye, Christabel."
---
She drove home.
The city was bright.
The streets were busy.
Damien was waiting in the living room.
"How was it?" he asked.
"Closure."
"Just closure?"
"It was a door. I closed it."
"Are you okay?"
She walked to him.
Took his hands.
"I'm better than okay."
---
That night, she put Lena to bed.
Not Damien. Her.
She read her daughter a story. Not a baby book. A real story. One of her favorites.
"There was a girl who was afraid of everything," she read. "Until she met a boy who taught her to be brave. And she realized that being brave wasn't about not being afraid. It was about being afraid and choosing to love anyway."
Lena stared at her.
"Bah," she said.
"That's right," Christabel said. "Bah."
---
Damien was in the doorway.
"She said it again."
"She said it to me."
"She said it to both of us."
She closed the book.
Set it on the nightstand.
"She's going to be a heartbreaker."
"She's going to be just like you."
"God help the world."
"God help anyone who tries to love her."
---
They stood over the crib together.
Lena was asleep. Her tiny chest rose and fell.
"I'm glad I went," Christabel said.
"I'm glad too."
"I'm glad I closed that door."
"I'm glad too."
"I'm glad I chose you."
He put his arm around her.
"I'm glad you did too."