Chapter 11
Eyes That Remember
The night was moving on without him.
Zac sat at the edge of the long dining table, swirling the remnants of his wine as polite laughter circled around him. Conversations sparked across crystal glasses and expensive cutlery, and the clinking of forks on porcelain formed a subtle rhythm beneath the chatter.
He should've felt proud. Present. A part of this family moment.
But instead, Zac felt like a ghost in his own home.
He glanced across the table. His mother smiled gracefully at the guests, her pearl necklace catching the chandelier's light. Trixy leaned her head on Zyron's shoulder while absently rubbing her baby bump. Xavier was off talking to their father about investments he couldn't care less about.
And Zac?
He was still wondering if he should pull that gift out of his bag or just leave it behind like a forgotten thought.
He wasn't even sure why he came.
Or maybe he did.
Maybe he just wanted to see if it would feel different this time.
Spoiler: it didn't.
Then the doors opened.
A butler entered, walking with silent, trained steps toward Mr. Aaron. He whispered something into his ear. Zac's father nodded once, then stood and raised his glass slightly to the table.
"Excuse me, everyone," he said with that powerful, polished tone. "A very important guest has arrived."
The room shifted. People straightened their backs, servers subtly realigned glasses, and a murmur of interest spread like ripples in water.
Zac turned his head toward the door just as the guest entered.
A man in his early fifties—dignified, sharp, and familiar in a way that spoke of old wealth—walked in, smiling confidently.
Beside him walked a young woman.
Tall. Composed. Elegant.
She wore a soft champagne dress that shimmered under the lights and moved like silk when she walked. Her long dark hair flowed over her shoulders, and her expression was unreadable—polite, distant, serene.
But Zac's chest tightened.
His fingers curled slowly around his glass.
There was something about her.
The way she held herself. The subtle flicker in her eyes as they scanned the room. That smile—not quite reaching her gaze. And when her eyes met his across the room, he felt a chill crawl down his spine.
Not fear.
Not recognition.
But a strange, heavy familiarity.
Like a memory refusing to stay buried.
"Everyone," Mr. Aaron announced proudly, "Allow me to introduce Mr. Rasil, one of our company's top investors—and his daughter, Cristelle."
Cristelle.
She offered a small bow. Polite. Rehearsed.
"I'm honored to be here tonight," she said softly.
Even her voice made Zac freeze.
No. It's not her.
Crisia is gone. This isn't—
But his gut twisted anyway.
Cristelle's eyes slid past him quickly, like he didn't matter. But Zac couldn't look away.
Trixy leaned close and whispered, "She's gorgeous, isn't she?"
Zac blinked and nodded mutely.
Xavier chuckled. "Dad's trying to lock in more than just a business deal. Matchmaking too, apparently."
Nicole smirked. "Classic Mr. Aaron."
Cristelle and her father were guided to the head of the table, where two seats had been cleared. Zac noticed that from where she sat, Cristelle had a direct view of him—yet she didn't glance his way again.
Not once.
Mr. Rasil began exchanging pleasantries with Zac's parents. Wine was poured again. Dishes were changed. Conversations resumed.
But Zac couldn't focus on any of it.
He stared down at his plate, untouched.
His mind had already left the room.
---
Later that evening, Zac stood near the open balcony, away from the noise, holding a flute of champagne he had no intention of finishing. The cool air kissed his face, but his chest still felt hot and tight.
He didn't realize someone had joined him until a soft voice spoke.
"The sky's clearer here than in the city."
Zac turned.
Cristelle stood beside him, looking out—not at him.
"Yeah," he said after a pause. "Fewer lights. More stars."
She hummed. "Do you like watching them?"
Zac studied her profile. "I'm studying astrology."
Cristelle turned to face him then, her expression curious. "Is that so? Then you must know a lot about constellations."
"More than I want to, some days," he said dryly.
She smiled gently. "I think constellations are interesting. How people take chaos and draw meaning into it."
Zac frowned. "That's exactly what it is—trying to find meaning."
A beat passed. Her eyes stayed on his.
Then, quietly, Cristelle said, "Do you think people do that with memories too?"
Zac's breath caught.
What are you trying to say?
Do you know who I think you are?
Are you playing with me—or are you really just Cristelle?
But he said none of those things. Not yet.
He only answered, "Sometimes. But memories don't always let you choose the meaning."
Cristelle smiled again, but it didn't reach her eyes.
"Interesting," she said. Then, she bowed her head slightly. "It was nice talking to you, Zac."
She left him with that strange sense of déjà vu clawing at his thoughts.
---
Back inside, Mr. Aaron stood to make a toast. Everyone raised their glasses, smiles filling the room.
Except Zac.
He was still staring at Cristelle.
And wondering if tonight was the start of something new—
—or the return of something old.