Faded love 12

Chapter 12 

“You’re afraid of the cold. 

Afraid of the rain. 

Afraid of the dark.” 

I drew a deep breath, forcing a smile to stay on my lips. 

“I’m not afraid.” 

Then I pushed the door open and walked out. 

The door closed behind me. 

I could hear his breathing falter- 

mine too. 

When the elevator doors slid shut, my hands were still shaking. 

I looked down at my palms. They were soaked in sweat. 

Outside, the rain had started. 

Raindrops hit the glass, blurring the city lights. 

I leaned against the car window, closed my eyes. 

Tears gathered at the corners. 

“Miss Thalia, are you alright?” the driver asked. 

“I’m fine,” I said, my voice hoarse. 

“Just a little tired.” 

But I knew- 

1 wouldn’t sleep tonight. 

That night, neither did he. 

I learned later that he sat alone in his office, 

staring again and again at that meeting file. 

At the signature line where my name was written, 

his fingers traced over my handwriting 

again and again, 

He said, 

“Even the pauses in our pen strokes are the same.” 

Wind slipped through the window crack, 

lifting the old letter on his desk. 

Coded la 

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11:33 Sat, Oct 18 

On it, one line stood out: 

‘I died the day you signed, not the night of the crash.’ 

He stared at it for a long time, whispering under his breath, 

“You’re not dead.” 

“You can’t be dead.” 

“You’re just in a dream.” 

I dreamt of him too. 

In the dream, he was kneeling before a gravestone, 

his hands covered in blood. 

He said, “You won, Wendy. You won.” 

I woke up gasping, my pillow damp with tears. 

Rain still fell outside. 

I stared out the window, a sharp ache twisting through my chest. 

I didn’t know- 

in this dream, 

who was still asleep. 

Him? 

Or me? 

After that meeting, I did everything I could to avoid him. 

I changed my routes, 

took different elevators, 

left early. 

But the Z Group was like a glass prison. 

No matter where I turned, 

his presence was always near- 

pressing closer, 

and closer. 

Sometimes I even wondered 

if he already knew. 

That day, while I was arranging the exhibition set, 

a low voice came from behind me. 

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11:33 Sat, Oct 18 

“Thalia.” 

I turned. 

He stood at the far end of the corridor, 

light and shadow crossing over his face. 

He wore a black shirt, 

a cup of coffee in hand. 

Calm expression- 

but danger I knew too well. 

“Mr. Zhou,” I nodded. 

He walked toward me, unhurried. 

“I looked at Thalia’s drafts,” he said softly. “Very familiar.” 

“Thank you,” I replied. 

He paused, eyes fixed on me, 

and gave a faint smile. 

“I wasn’t complimenting.” 

That smile- 

so faint it felt like frost. 

“Your lines,” he murmured, 

“even the way your pen starts a stroke-it’s the same.” 

I froze for a moment. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Me.” 

He didn’t say the name. 

He didn’t have to. 

The air smelled faintly of coffee- 

bitter and cold. 

It reminded me of that rainy night three years ago. 

He had smelled of the same bitterness then. 

When I looked up, he was closer. 

Close enough that I could feel his breath against my skin. “Mr. Zhou,” I stepped back, 

Chapter 12 

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11:33 Sat, Oct 18 

“this is a work area. It’s not the place for personal conversations.” 

“But I’m not smoking,” 

he said with a quiet laugh. 

“I just want to see-how long someone can keep pretending.” 

1 smiled- 

coldly. 

“Pretending?” 

“You’re smarter now,” he said softly. 

“At least you’ve learned not to cry.” 

That sentence pierced like a needle. 

I stared at him, forcing my voice steady. 

“Mr. Zhou, please respect reality.” 

“Reality?” 

He leaned in, voice brushing against my ear. 

“Reality is-you came back.” 

For a second, 

I forgot how to breathe. 

I could hear my own heartbeat- 

loud, uneven. 

“Mr. Zhou,” I pushed him away, 

“please behave yourself.” 

As I tried to walk past him, 

his hand suddenly reached out. 

“When did you get that scar?” 

I froze. 

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