Chapter 24
Chapter 24 (Alex’s POV)
The city buzzed beneath me, a million lights blinking in the dark.
I leaned against the railing of my private balcony, a glass of water in my hand, untouched.
The night was colder than usual, the wind biting through my jacket.
But I barely felt it.
My mind was too full.
Too loud.
Too broken.
---
Sleep didn’t come anymore.
Not the real kind.
Every time I closed my eyes, flashes hit me.
The girl.
The laughter.
The promises whispered under the covers.
Memories that didn’t fit into my life now.
Memories that felt more real than anything else around me.
And I hated it.
I hated feeling like half a man walking through half a life.
---
Earlier, Rachel had come by.
She let herself in, smiling like always, carrying takeout and a bottle of wine.
I tried.
I really did.
I sat with her.
Ate dinner.
Talked about meaningless things — the news, the weather, the upcoming charity gala.
I smiled when I had to.
Laughed when she expected me to.
Played the part she needed.
But inside, I was somewhere else.
Somewhere with someone else.
---
Rachel leaned closer during dessert, her hand sliding along my thigh.
I didn’t stop her.
Part of me thought maybe it would help.
Maybe touching someone — feeling something — would quiet the ache inside.
Maybe I could erase the ghost of the girl I couldn’t even fully remember.
Maybe I could move on.
---
She kissed me.
Soft at first.
Then deeper.
Hungrier.
I kissed her back, trying to lose myself.
Trying to pretend.
Trying to force the memories out of my head.
---
We stumbled toward the bedroom.
Clothes hitting the floor.
The world spinning.
But when we reached the edge of the bed, I froze.
Rachel kissed my neck, her hands tugging at my shirt, but I barely felt it.
Because in that moment — in the middle of the noise and confusion — I saw her.
Not Rachel.
Not the woman standing in front of me.
Her.
The girl from my dreams.
The girl whose laugh I could almost hear in the back of my mind.
The girl whose touch I was craving even though I didn’t know her name.
---
I pulled away.
Breathless.
Broken.
Rachel frowned, confused.
"Alex?"
"I can't," I whispered.
She stepped back, wrapping her arms around herself.
"Did I do something wrong?"
I shook my head, swallowing hard.
"No. It's me."
She stared at me for a long time.
Waiting for an explanation.
I didn't have one.
How could I tell her that my heart already belonged to someone I hadn’t even found yet?
How could I tell her that touching her felt like betrayal — not to her, but to a memory I didn’t even fully own?
---
Rachel gathered her things without saying much.
Her heels clicked sharply against the floor as she left.
The door shut behind her with a soft finality.
I stood there, staring at the empty space where she had been.
Feeling worse than before.
More hollow.
More lost.
---
I sat on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on my knees, head in my hands.
I wasn’t angry at Rachel.
She deserved better than a man who couldn’t give his heart fully.
But I couldn’t give it.
Not when it already belonged to someone else.
Someone out there.
Someone waiting.
---
I fell back onto the bed, staring up at the dark ceiling.
The flashes came again.
---
I saw her sitting on a picnic blanket under a wide open sky.
She threw a grape at me, laughing when I caught it clumsily.
We weren’t rich.
We weren’t polished.
But we were happy.
I saw her lying next to me, tracing invisible shapes on my chest.
I heard her whisper, "You’re my always."
I whispered it back.
Always.
---
The word echoed through me, ripping open something raw.
I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, trying to block it out.
But it was no use.
She was inside me now.
In every heartbeat.
In every breath.
In every broken piece.
---
I didn’t sleep that night.
I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, listening to the empty space where she should have been.
---
The next morning, I moved through my routine like a robot.
Shower.
Suit.
Coffee I didn’t drink.
Meetings I barely heard.
Papers I signed without reading.
The world spun around me, but I felt like I was standing still.
Trapped.
Waiting.
---
At lunch, my assistant knocked softly on my office door.
"Sir? Your one o’clock is here."
I nodded without looking up.
I didn’t care who it was.
Didn’t care what deal they wanted.
Nothing mattered.
Not without her.
---
I made it through the day somehow.
Signed the contracts.
Smiled for the cameras.
Shook the right hands.
But every second felt heavier than the last.
---
By the time evening rolled around, I didn’t go home.
I drove aimlessly through the city.
Past parks.
Past restaurants.
Past happy couples walking hand in hand under twinkling streetlights.
Each glimpse stabbed a little deeper.
Each smile reminded me of what I had lost.
What I was still losing.
---
I ended up by the river, parking under the old bridge.
I got out and leaned against the hood of my car, staring at the dark water.
The wind whipped around me, cold and sharp.
I didn't care.
I welcomed it.
Welcomed the sting.
Because at least it made me feel something.
---
Somewhere out there, she was breathing.
Living.
Maybe laughing.
Maybe crying.
Maybe looking up at the same night sky, wondering if she was crazy for missing someone she couldn't name.
Just like me.
---
I closed my eyes and whispered into the darkness:
"Where are you?"
The river didn’t answer.
The wind didn’t carry her voice back to me.
But deep in my soul, something stirred.
A promise.
A pull.
A connection that no amount of time or lies could break.
---
I didn’t know her name.
I didn’t know where she was.
But I knew one thing with absolute certainty:
She was real.
And I wasn’t giving up until I found her.
---
I stood there for a long time, letting the cold seep into my bones.
Letting the night wrap around me like a second skin.
I didn’t care how long it took.
Didn’t care how many walls I had to break down.
Didn’t care if the whole world thought I was crazy.
I would find her.
I would bring us back together.
Because real love doesn’t die.
Not even when the memories are stolen.
Not even when the whole world tries to erase it.