Chapter 4

Laura

I was treading a path of ruin—or maybe one of wealth. Perhaps, for once, good things do come to those who wait. I had been waiting my entire life. Maybe this was my turn but right now, my body was betraying me.

Heat crawled under my skin, itching, burning from the inside out. My blood surged through my veins, my pulse hammering so violently I could feel it in my ears. My throat felt tight, my tongue twisted and thick, and my head pounded as if it might explode at any second.

It was happening.

My allergy reaction.

Seafood. And yet, I had done it anyway. I had smiled, nodded, and forced myself to swallow, all to make him believe I was who he thought I was because the moment he walked into that restaurant, stepping into the dim, elegant lighting like he belonged there—like he owned it—I realized there was more to life than scrubbing tables at a run-down diner.

He looked like money. He looked like power.

The tailored grey suit clung to his frame like it was made just for him. His hair, sleek and combed back, highlighted the sharp angles of his face. His teeth glistened under the soft glow of the chandeliers. The colour of his eyes almost matched the silk of his blue tie and his height. God! His height made him look like he could stand toe-to-toe with Zeus himself.

Everything about him was polished. His well-groomed brows, his manicured nails, his spotless shoes and then, there was his scent. Fuck! His scent—rich, deep, laced with sandalwood and something dark, something masculine. It filled my senses, drowning out the briny smell of seafood that should have made me nauseous.

His presence was intoxicating. His touch on my hand was gentle, yet firm. I had to hold myself back from reaching out, from tracing my fingers down the sculpted lines of his face.

I felt out of place. Wrong. Like I didn't belong there but he felt right. Like he was the one who could put me back together.

So, I lied.

A little allergy reaction was nothing compared to escaping the life I had been living and now, I was paying for it.

"Laura!" His voice called out behind me, deep and laced with concern.

I kept walking.

I couldn't stop. Not when my body felt like it was about to shut down on me. My intestines twisted in agony, my vision blurred, and my skin felt like it was being shredded from the inside out.

I needed my pills. Now.

"You should leave," I choked out, barely able to get the words past my swollen throat.

"What's wrong?" His voice was closer now, drawing the attention of the people around us. "Are you okay? You look..."

I didn't let him finish.

I flagged down a taxi, not even sparing him another glance before slipping inside. My hands trembled as I rubbed at my burning skin, trying to ignore the way his confused, almost betrayed expression stared back at me through the windshield.

"I didn't even get his name," I whispered to myself, the weight of my actions settling over me like a lead blanket.

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes.

He had been sweet. Genuine. Honest and I had lied to him. Lied to his face while he sat across from me, treating me with a kindness I didn't deserve.

I should have told him the truth.

That I hated seafood. That the smell alone made me want to gag. That the taste made my stomach churn. That the very thought of it touching my tongue sent me into an allergic spiral.

I should have told him I wasn't the Laura he thought I was but I hadn't.

I hadn't, because for one evening, I wanted to pretend.

My phone rang, snapping me from my thoughts.

I inhaled sharply, blinking back my tears as I glanced at the screen. A familiar number. My heart clenched.

I hesitated. Then, I answered.

"You don't have to say anything," his voice came through, slightly breathless. "Please, just listen to me."

I swallowed, gripping the phone tighter.

"I don't know what I did wrong to mess this up, but I swear I didn't mean to." A pause. A deep inhale. "I'm in the dark here, and I think I need the light..."

My throat tightened.

He sounded broken. Lost and I was the reason.

Tears slipped silently down my cheeks.

"I just wanted to feel the same emotions I felt that night we met. Maybe I'm selfish for wanting that, but I can't help it. You... you ignited something in me. Something that's been dormant for so long. No one has ever made me feel the way you do. Not since my mother died."

His voice cracked.

"There's something about you, Laura. Something I don't even think you realize. It's like... like you don't know the kind of power you have. Like you don't see yourself the way I do." He exhaled sharply. "It's crazy, and I think I'm losing my mind. I don't even have the courage to say these things to your face, and maybe that makes me a coward, but I need you to know..."

Another deep breath.

"I don't want to lose you. I don't want this feeling to end. I want to hold onto it for as long as I can. So, please... Laura. Help me."

I couldn't breathe.

His words. God, his words.

I hung up.

I didn't say a damn thing. Just ended the call and let the silence settle around me like a suffocating weight.

I was a monster. A liar. A fraud.

No one had ever spoken about me the way he had. No one had ever seen me, not like that but even as I longed to believe his words, I knew they weren't meant for me. They were meant for the woman he thought I was.

The taxi stopped outside my building, and I barely mumbled a thank you before rushing inside.

I stumbled into my apartment, straight to the kitchen, yanking open the drawer and frantically searching.

The pill bottle rattled in my hands as I unscrewed the cap, pouring two into my palm and swallowing them dry. I braced myself against the counter, gripping the edge as I gasped for air.

I refused to look at my reflection.

Instead, I slid to the floor, my back against the cabinets, my arms wrapped around my knees as I let the weight of everything crash over me.

I hated myself.

I wished I was her. Laura George. The woman he thought I was. The woman who didn't have to lie.

A heavy stomp sounded from the apartment above me, followed by another.

My moment of solitude was over.

Then, a knock at the door.

I lifted my head, staring at it like it might vanish if I ignored it long enough.

Another knock.

My pulse spiked. No one came to my place. No one knew where I lived, well except my brother, and I had made damn sure he never found me.

Another knock.

I shot to my feet, wiping at my damp face with trembling fingers before forcing myself to the door.

I swung it open and then froze.

He was standing there.

He found me.

I moved to shut the door, but his hand shot out, stopping me.

"Please," he murmured, his voice softer now, his eyes searching mine.

Tears burned behind my lids.

I hesitated then stepped aside.

He entered, his presence filling my tiny apartment, his gaze locked on mine. "You didn't answer my calls. I needed to know what I did wrong."

"It's not you," I whispered.

His brows furrowed. "What?"

I took a shaky breath. "You didn't do anything wrong. I just... I just needed to be alone."

He reached for my wrist, his grip gentle yet firm.

"Tell me you want me to leave," he said. "Tell me meeting you was a mistake. Tell me you never want to see me again, and I'll walk out that door."

I could have said it.

But I didn't.

Instead, I whispered, "I lied to you."