Chapter Forty Six

 The sky roared as clouds collided, thick and heavy, swallowing the last traces of daylight. A jagged bolt of lightning ripped across the heavens like a crack splitting the earth. Thunder crashed just as Chris burst through the door into the open space.

Through the curtain of wind and rising rain, he saw Isa. Her steps were slow, her shoulders trembling, hands pressed tightly over her mouth.

“Isa...” Chris whispered, and sprinted toward her.

The wind tore through his hair, his jacket flaring as he ran. He reached her in seconds, seized her wrist, and pulled her into his arms. One arm wrapped around her waist; the other guided her head gently to his shoulder.

“It’s not what you think, Isa,” he gasped, breathless. His eyes shut tight as he held her close. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to deceive you,” he choked, his body shaking. He buried his face in her hair, gripping her arms like they were the only thing keeping him grounded. “I’m… sorry,” he whispered into her ear.

Isa clung to him—and then broke down, sobbing, her fists pounding against his chest.

“Then why did you push me away, you idiot!”

Chris slowly pulled back, still holding her arms. His eyes searched hers, shining with tears.

“I know you probably hate me. I deserve it,” he said quietly. “Curse me. Hit me if it helps.”

“You fool!” Isa shouted, her breath sharp and uneven. She glared at him, then gave a brisk nod. “You’re right. You don’t deserve it. And you’ll pay for it.”

Chris opened his mouth to respond—but she stepped forward and pressed her lips to his.

Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, pulling him close.

Chris froze. His eyes widened. But her warm body melted into his, her lips soft and desperate. His senses crumbled. Her arms squeezed around him like she never wanted to let go, and her lips moved over his like they belonged there.

His arms folded around her instinctively. Her honey-sweet perfume enveloped him. He kissed her back hungrily, his fingers sliding into her rain-soaked hair.

Thunder cracked overhead, and the rain came pouring down—hard, fast, and loud. It slapped the ground and soaked them within seconds.

Breathless, they broke apart, eyes locked, their gaze burning with unspoken need. Chris exhaled shakily and turned away first. He quickly shrugged off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders. Her hair, now soaked, clung to her face. He raised a hand above her head like an umbrella, shielding her from the downpour.

“We should get out of this rain,” he said, his voice low and thick. His own hair was dripping, his shirt soaked and nearly transparent. “Over there!”

But before he could move, Isa grabbed his arm.

Chris blinked and turned to her.

She hesitated, her mouth opening, then closing again. His brows furrowed as he gently placed his hands on her arms.

“You’re still scared of me?”

Isa took a deep breath and met his eyes. “I thought you were dead,” she said. “At first, when I saw you, I hoped it was you. But then I heard you were gone, and I hated myself for not saying what I should’ve said when I had the chance.”

Chris’s chest tightened. His heart pounded.

“What is it?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion. Even his tongue felt heavy.

“I love you,” she said, voice cracking. “I—I really love you.”

Chris froze. The colour drained from his face. His lips parted, trembling. Everything around them faded—the rain, the thunder, the world. All he could see were her brown eyes, locked on his. Her soaked hair clung to her delicate face.

I love you…

The words echoed in his mind. Warmth bloomed in his chest.

It felt… unreal.

No one had said that to him in years. No one had wanted him for so long.

“Steven,” Isa whispered.

Chris blinked. That name twisted in his stomach. His grip on her shoulders tightened just slightly.

“Just call me Chris,” he said. “Steven…” He swallowed. “Steven died a long time ago.”

Isa’s lips parted.

“Please…” he added, softly.

She pressed her lips together and gave a slow nod.

“Did you hear what I said earlier?” she asked.

I love you…

Chris averted his gaze. Of course I did. I heard every word.

But then the image flashed in his mind—Isa in Alex’s arms. That kiss.

He slowly let go of her arms, forcing a bitter smile.

“You have Alex,” he said. “You love him.”

“No!” Isa burst out. “I don’t. I—never did.”

Chris’s brows lifted. Is that true? Was I wrong?

“He kissed you,” Chris muttered, pain lining his voice. “I saw it. Right outside my gate.”

Isa blinked. “What?”

Chris tilted his head slightly. “Are you saying it didn’t happen?”

Isa swallowed hard. Her lips pressed into a tight line. “I’m not denying it. But it’s not what you think. I don’t love him. I never have. I just… I just thought he was a good guy.”

Not far from them, a sleek black car sat parked by the curb.

Beside it stood a man holding a black umbrella. His t-shirt clung to his chest beneath a pair of suit trousers. His grip on the umbrella’s handle was so tight, it trembled.

His eyes never left the couple standing in the rain.

Alex.

He watched Isa clutching Chris’s hand, shaking her head again and again, insisting she never loved him. Then his gaze shifted to Chris—who was trying, and failing, to hide a smile.

Of course. Alex smirked.

He’s enjoying it.

He couldn’t remember the last time he saw that expression on Chris’s face—soft, open, alive. Not since Stacy. Not since the fire. Not since the world branded him a cursed child and he disappeared, changed his name, and vanished into isolation—afraid of love, afraid of connection.

But now?

Now, Chris looked like a man in love.

He looked like he’d forgotten all of it.

Alex’s lips twisted into a dark grin as Chris covered his mouth, laughing shyly, cheeks pink, eyes glowing, shoulders light.

Maybe he needs a reminder.

Alex’s grin widened as he looked down at their intertwined fingers. Then slowly, his eyes returned to Isa.

Maybe… he needs another Stacy.

I truly appreciate you taking the time to read this story. I’d love to hear your thoughts—even a simple reaction would mean a lot. Thanks again!