CHAPTER LXXII
"The Girl I Couldn't Forget"
I sat at my office desk, but my mind wasn't in the reports, the emails, or the numbers blinking on the screen. It was somewhere else entirely — circling like a bird around a quiet girl in a soaked white dress who had vanished from my world as suddenly as she had entered it.
Who was she?
Why did she leave without a word — not even a thank you?
Why didn't she even look properly at my face?
I kept asking myself those same questions over and over again, and every time I tried to focus on work, my mind stubbornly returned to her image — her closed eyes, her trembling lips, the fragile way her body rested against mine last night.
Jimmy, one of my colleagues, noticed the haze clouding my eyes and said, half-jokingly, "Astrid, you really need to start sleeping at night, or this zombie version of you is going to become permanent."
I blinked out of my daze and forced a small laugh. "It's not that. Honestly, I had a good night's sleep."
That was true. I did sleep. But peace? That was a different thing.
Crystal, another colleague, raised an eyebrow playfully. "Oh really, Astrid? Did you meet your dream girl in your dreams or what?"
I looked at both of them and shrugged. "Maybe. I don't know. She felt like a dream... A beautiful, fleeting dream that faded the moment I woke up."
Crystal frowned slightly. "That sounds sad."
"Yeah," I said, standing up and gathering my things, "it was."
I forced a smile and added, "Anyway, I'm done for the day. I'll see you both tomorrow."
"Bye!" Jimmy called as I exited.
It wasn't even evening yet. The sun was still high in the sky. Since I had time, I decided to head to the supermarket to buy a few groceries for home.
That's when it happened.
As I turned the corner near the park, I saw her again — her — the same girl from the night before.
But this time, she wasn't alone.
Two men stood near her, their body language aggressive, their eyes leering. She looked terrified. Frozen.
Something inside me snapped. Without even thinking, I slammed on the brakes, jumped out of my car, and grabbed my hockey stick from the backseat like I was about to enter battle. I stormed toward her like some movie hero ready to strike. But by the time I got there, the men had already retreated — slipping into their car and driving off like cowards.
I turned to the girl, breathless. "Hey... do you recognize me?"
She said nothing. Not a word. She simply turned away and began to walk off — again. Just like before.
But this time, I wasn't going to let her disappear.
Not again.
I reached out and gently grabbed her wrist. "Please don't walk away from me again. Why are you running from me? Who are you? What's your name? And why did you try to end your life?"
Before she could answer, a voice cut through the air.
"Lylah! Where the hell have you been?!"
A man appeared — I hadn't even seen where he came from. He rushed forward, grabbed her wrist tightly, and looked at her like a man possessed.
"You know how worried I've been?" he said, breathing heavily.
But it didn't look like worry. It looked like control. Like obsession.
There was something off about him — the way he held her, the way she flinched slightly at his touch.
"Hey!" I stepped between them, feeling protective. "Who are you?"
He turned to me sharply. "I'm her fiancé. And you are?"
His voice was defensive. Dismissive. Territorial.
"Doesn't seem like she's happy to see you," I said calmly. "Are you sure you're not harassing her?"
His tone hardened. "This is between us. Please, don't interfere in personal matters."
Lylah said nothing. Not a single word.
She just looked at me for the briefest moment — her eyes filled with something I couldn't explain. Sadness? Apology? A silent goodbye?
And then she walked away with him, letting him pull her into his world again.
And I… I just stood there. Watching her go. Again.
Just like a dream. Just like a memory.
Something slipping between my fingers before I even had the chance to truly hold it.
I came home, frustrated and exhausted — mentally more than physically. My steps felt heavier than usual, and my heart even more so.
As soon as I stepped through the door, Flash looked up from the couch, a comic book still in his hand. His eyes immediately went to my empty hands and he frowned slightly.
"Cael… Weren't you going to get the stuff for the glossary project?" he asked, confused. "What happened? Why are your hands empty?"
I didn't even sit down. I just stood there for a second, took a deep breath, and then said in a flat voice, "I saw her again. But… she's getting married."
Flash blinked. "Wait. Who? That girl from last night?"
I nodded slowly.
He put the comic aside and sighed. "Cael… maybe it's best you keep your distance from strangers like that. Just focus on your own work. Forget it."
His words stung. They were practical, reasonable… and yet, completely heartless.
I turned to him, my voice tight. "So that's it? You don't care at all how I feel, do you, Flash?"
Flash looked at me — not with anger or coldness, but that same neutral, logical tone he always used. "Cael, if she truly wanted to see you again, she would've come back. People always find a way when they really want to. If she didn't… then maybe you're just chasing a shadow. Why waste your energy thinking about someone who's already chosen a different path? You're only ruining your own peace — and dragging mine down with it."
I stared at him for a moment. There it was — the brutal truth.
But that didn't make it easier to swallow.
Yes, maybe he was right. Maybe she wouldn't come back.
But that didn't mean I could just erase her from my thoughts — from that strange ache in my chest that refused to quiet down.
She wasn't just some random stranger.
She felt like something unfinished — like a story that ended mid-sentence.
And no matter how many reasons the world gave me to forget her, my heart kept whispering that her chapter in my life wasn't over yet.
I took a shower, hoping the warm water would wash away the lingering thoughts still clinging to my mind like shadows. After slipping into my usual clothes — just a simple tee and jeans — I made my way downstairs. As I entered the dining room, I saw Flash sitting at the table, a half-open bag placed next to him.
Without even looking up, he said bluntly, "Go and get the groceries. We're out of food."
His tone was casual, but firm — as if I were just another task on his list for the day.
I sighed, brushing a strand of damp hair behind my ear. "Fine, I'm going," I muttered, grabbing my car keys from the counter without further protest.
I drove to the supermarket, the city buzzing with its usual life around me — people moving, horns blaring, everything in constant motion. I walked through the aisles, picking out what we needed — bread, milk, a few vegetables, some frozen food. The usual. It was a routine I had repeated a thousand times before, yet today everything felt a little heavier.
After billing everything and placing the bags in my car, I started driving back. That's when my phone rang.
Mom.
I sighed and pulled over to the side of the road before answering. "Hey Mom," I said, trying to keep my voice calm.
"Hello, Astrid! I hope you're doing well," she said with her usual cheerfulness, but I could sense a bit of tension behind her words.
"I'm okay," I replied softly. "What's up?"
"I just wanted to let you know," she continued, "that we've finally chosen a girl for you. The one you liked. We think she's perfect for you."
I blinked. My fingers tightened slightly on the steering wheel. "Oh… is that so?"
"Yes, sweetheart," she said brightly. "We're coming to visit next week. We'll start planning the wedding from your house. It'll be easier that way."
I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat and nodded, though she couldn't see me. "Okay, Mom," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.
Before she could say anything more, I added, "I'm driving. I'll talk to you later," and ended the call.
I sat there for a moment, staring blankly ahead. My heart felt like it was sinking — slowly, quietly — into something I didn't quite understand.
The girl I had just started to feel something for… the one whose name I barely knew, whose story was still a mystery to me… and now, here I was, being told that my future was already decided. That everything had been chosen for me, packaged neatly, and delivered in the name of tradition and duty.
And I?
I didn't even know how to say no.
To be continue....