The confession happened like something out of a quiet dream.
Anne was on her way home, the streetlights flickering against the dusk like timid fireflies. The wind was gentle, the air a little cold. Just as she turned the corner near the flower shop, a familiar voice called her name.
"Anne…"
She turned—and there he was. Liam. Not in a suit, not surrounded by reporters or businessmen, but simply as he was—raw, honest, and nervous. His fingers curled into fists at his sides. His hair was tousled from running. And his eyes... they held everything.
"I don't know what this is supposed to feel like," he said, taking a step toward her. "But when I see you, it's like the world slows down. When I don't, it just... hurts. Anne, I think—I know—I love you."
Her breath caught.
It wasn't a grand speech. It wasn't the setting of a movie. It was just him. And that was enough.
She smiled, walking up to him, placing her hand against his chest. "Then we both feel the same," she whispered. "I love you too."
From that day forward, Liam and Anne became a world within the world.
He began to smile more often, laugh more freely. Work still mattered—but not more than her. They'd meet after long days, steal moments under café lights, lie under the stars making plans about everything from the color of their future bedroom to the names of their potential pets.
Linda—Liam's aunt and closest family—was stunned when she first saw them together. "That boy didn't even blink at women his whole life," she'd mutter to herself. But when she saw how he looked at Anne—like she was the answer to every question he never knew he had—she finally understood.
Together, Liam and Anne were a force of calm and chaos. He brought out her courage. She gave him the warmth he never knew he needed.
They talked about marriage. Not formally, but with the kind of hope people share when they truly believe tomorrow will come. He showed her the ring he wanted to design for her. She secretly kept photos of wedding dresses she liked.
And then… fate turned.
That day, Liam was unusually excited. He had found something special for Anne—an old antique locket that looked just like the one in a novel she had once read to him. He remembered. He *always* remembered.
He left the office in a rush, jacket forgotten, umbrella tossed aside.
It was raining.
Just a few streets away, a truck sped past a red light.
The impact was brutal.
Glass. Blood. Silence.
He was alive—but barely. The hospital smelled of antiseptic and despair. Machines breathed for him. Tubes cradled him. Anne didn't leave his side. She whispered their memories, played the song they danced to the night of their first anniversary, even wore his favorite perfume.
But Liam never opened his eyes.
And one morning, when the rain returned like a cruel echo… the machines stopped.
Anne didn't scream. She didn't faint. She just… stood there. As if part of her was leaving with him. No, *as if all of her* was leaving.
After that, she changed.
The soft girl who once smiled at stray cats and doodled hearts in her notebook became distant, cold. Her eyes lost their light. But inside her, a fire was born.
Because something wasn't right.
The truck driver? Gone. No name, no record. The case? Quietly dismissed. The accident? "Unfortunate," they called it.
But Anne remembered Liam's face when he showed her that locket. His joy. His trust in the world.
She couldn't accept it.
She started digging. Researching. Following names and paper trails. And then… she found something. A connection. A name tied to a rival company. To someone who had everything to gain from Liam's death.
She went alone.
It was a trap.
A dark, abandoned warehouse. Rain leaking through the broken roof. Her footsteps echoing in silence.
Then—
A shot.
She fell. Cold concrete. Her chest bleeding. Her vision blurring. But she wasn't afraid. Not really.
Because in her final moments, Anne smiled.
She clutched the locket Liam gave her, now bloodstained but still glowing with memory. "Wait for me," she whispered. "I'm coming back."
And somewhere, far beyond time and space, a fate was rewritten.
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End of Chapter 5
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