The air outside was heavy with the scent of dusk, a cool breeze sweeping over the Lancaster estate as the moon slowly rose behind the clouds. Elira stood barefoot on the veranda, fingers wrapped around a steaming mug of lavender tea, her gaze lost in the sea of stars above.
She had slept in Alexander's arms the night before.
It wasn't the act of lovers. Not yet. Just the closeness of two souls slowly bridging the years and pain between them. He had fallen asleep with his head resting near her shoulder, his hand curled over hers, as if holding onto the woman he had lost two decades ago.
But this morning… something changed.
She had woken from a dream—a memory. Not one built from her new life, but from the one before. Her original life. The life where she was the eighteen-year-old girl named Calla Reyes. Alexander's young wife. Aria and Aiden's mother. The one who died too soon.
The dream had been a birthday.
Not hers. Not the twins'.
His.
---
Sixteen Years Ago
She had baked the cake herself, swearing under her breath every time the chocolate mixture threatened to overflow. She was still wearing her college uniform skirt, smudges of flour streaked across her cheeks, and her dark hair tied up in a messy knot.
Alexander had returned home later than promised—caught in a board meeting, stressed and tired. But the moment he stepped through the door and saw the tiny apartment lit with candles, balloons taped to the ceiling, and her standing there holding a crooked, lopsided cake, everything else had melted.
"You remembered," he whispered.
"Of course I did," she said, cheeks pink.
"I didn't think you'd—"
"Don't be silly. It's your first birthday with us. With me."
He had stared at the cake. Then at her. And then, like gravity itself couldn't stop him, he kissed her—right there in the middle of the narrow kitchen, flour and all.
They didn't even get to eat the cake until midnight.
---
Present
The memory had haunted her all day. Not in a painful way—but in a vivid, visceral one. She could still smell the candle wax. Feel the warmth of his palm against her waist. Taste the chocolate crumbs as they fed each other in the dark.
She remembered it all.
And she knew now, without any hesitation:
She was Calla.
Calla reborn.
Not just a girl who looked like her. Not just someone who fell into Alexander's life by chance. She was the woman who had loved him before, and the one who had returned for him again.
She walked back into the house.
Alexander was in the study, still in his shirt sleeves, glasses perched on his nose as he read over a contract. He looked up the moment she entered.
"Elira?"
"I remembered something."
He stood, concern furrowing his brow. "What was it?"
"Your thirty-first birthday."
He blinked.
"You were late coming home. I made a cake. A really ugly one. It kept sinking in the middle."
He paled.
"I used strawberry icing. I spelled your name wrong. 'Alekzander.' With a Z. You laughed for five minutes straight."
He sat down slowly, the color draining from his face.
"You remember that?" he whispered.
Tears filled her eyes. "I don't know how. But yes. I do. All of it."
He was speechless.
She crossed the room, knelt before him, and placed his hand on her chest. "I'm not asking you to believe me because I said so. I'm asking you to feel it. This heartbeat... It loved you once before. It found its way back to you."
Alexander stared at her for a long moment. Then, slowly, he closed his eyes and let his forehead rest against hers.
"I remember that night," he whispered. "I never told anyone about it. Not even the twins. I kept that memory for myself."
"Then maybe… maybe now you can share it with me again."
They stayed like that for minutes—no words. Just shared warmth.
---
Back at the Office
A week had passed since Alexander and Elira had publicly acknowledged their relationship. The office atmosphere had shifted slightly—less curious, more wary. Some employees avoided them altogether. Others were bold enough to smile and offer congratulatory words. But beneath the surface, not everyone approved.
Especially not Daniel Vergara.
Daniel was one of the youngest executive directors on the board—ambitious, charming, and always smiling. But behind the easy laugh was a man who hated unpredictability. And Alexander's love life? A volatile variable.
He had kept his discontent quiet, but his assistant, Lira, noticed the change.
"You've been extra quiet this week, sir."
"I'm observing," he said smoothly. "Alexander is distracted."
"Distracted?"
Daniel looked out the window. "Love makes people sloppy."
Lira hesitated. "You think he's being reckless?"
"I think he's letting sentiment cloud judgment. And when that happens… companies fall."
"You're not going to—"
He turned, smiled. "Not yet."
But his eyes were dark with calculation.
---
Elira and the Twins
Aria had invited her for coffee.
Not a business meeting. Not a formal dinner.
Just coffee. At a quaint little café tucked between two bookstores near BGC.
When Elira arrived, she found Aria already seated with two cups—one black, one with whipped cream and cinnamon, exactly how Elira liked it.
"You remembered," Elira said softly.
Aria smiled. "Of course. You used to bribe me with cinnamon coffee after school."
Elira sat. "And you'd steal my lipstick when I wasn't looking."
They looked at each other—mother and daughter, yet strangers in this lifetime. But something passed between them. A warmth. A knowing.
"You… remember more now?" Aria asked gently.
"Yes," Elira said. "Every day, more pieces come back. Moments. Smells. Feelings."
Aria was quiet.
Then she reached into her bag and pulled out an old photo—one of Calla holding the newborn twins in the hospital. She slid it across the table.
"You looked so tired. But so happy," Aria said. "Aiden used to cry and cry unless you sang that weird lullaby in Tagalog."
Elira stared at the photo.
And without even thinking, she began humming the tune.
Aria gasped.
"I haven't heard that since—"
"It's still in me," Elira whispered. "The songs. The memories. You. Both of you."
Tears welled in Aria's eyes. "Then I believe you."
Elira looked up.
"I believe you're her," Aria said. "You're our mom."
---
Later That Night
Alexander came home late, tired but smiling.
He found Elira in the garden again, holding a photo album.
"You okay?" he asked.
She nodded. "Your daughter believes me."
He sat beside her.
"I think Aiden already knows. He just doesn't say it yet."
Alexander took her hand. "And I… I'm beginning to accept it. The way you laugh. The way you remember things no one else knows. It's you, isn't it?"
She looked at him. "Do you want it to be?"
"I want it more than anything."
They leaned into each other.
"I just don't understand how," he said. "Why now? Why you? Why come back?"
Elira smiled faintly. "Maybe the universe knew you weren't done loving me."
He touched her cheek. "I never was."
---
End of Chapter 12