*Chapter 5: The Stranger I Used to Love*
The city's skyline cut jaggedly into the fading light, a dark outline against the twilight sky. I stood outside the glass doors of the small café, my breath catching as I stared at my reflection. The woman looking back at me was a stranger—someone with my face but hollow eyes, lost and fragile. How many pieces of myself had been stolen or shattered? And could I reclaim them?
The soft murmur of voices and clinking cups drifted through the glass. Inside, life carried on as if oblivious to the chaos swirling inside me. I wiped the fog from the window and peered in.
There he was.
Declan.
The man whose name was etched deep inside my soul, even if my mind tried to deny it. He sat alone at a corner table, fingers tapping restlessly on the keyboard of his laptop. His sharp blue eyes, intense and calculating, flicked from the screen to the room, alert and guarded. The weight of unspoken history hung heavy between us, pulling me closer and threatening to tear me apart.I hesitated. What if he didn't recognize me? What if the plastic mask I now wore had erased every trace of the woman he once loved? But the past had a way of clawing back through the cracks, and I was tired of running from shadows.
Taking a shaky breath, I pushed open the door. The bell chimed softly, and Declan's eyes snapped up. For a moment, time froze.
Recognition flickered.
Shock.
Confusion.
Fear.
His gaze locked onto mine, searching for something buried beneath the surface. I swallowed hard, the words choking in my throat.
Before I could speak, his phone buzzed sharply. He glanced at the screen, jaw tightening. Without a word, he rose abruptly.
"I have to go," he said, voice taut.
"Wait," I managed, voice trembling but firm. "It's me… Eva."
He stopped mid-step, as if a ghost had spoken his name.
"Eva?" His voice cracked like a man trying to hold back a storm. "How—how is this possible?"
"I don't know," I whispered. "I don't remember much. But I'm here. I'm alive."
His eyes softened for a fleeting second, haunted by memories I couldn't grasp. "You're alive…" he repeated, disbelief coloring every syllable. "After all this time…"I nodded, unsure how to bridge the chasm between us. "I'm trying to remember. Trying to find the pieces that were taken from me. From us."
He hesitated, then gestured to the seat opposite him. "Please. Sit."
As I slid into the chair, the weight of the past settled between us like a fragile glass vase—one wrong move, and it would shatter forever.
Declan ran a hand through his dark hair, eyes darkening with regret. "You disappeared, Eva. One day you were gone. No goodbye. No trace."
Tears blurred my vision. "I don't remember leaving. I don't remember anything before waking up in that hospital."
He reached across the table, hesitating before his fingers brushed mine. The contact sparked something deep inside—an echo of a love I thought lost.
"We searched for you. Every lead, every clue. But it was like you vanished into thin air."
A shiver ran down my spine as the memory of the kidnappers surfaced—their cold hands, the whispered threats, the plastic surgery that stole my face and erased my identity.
"But I'm here now," I said, voice firmer. "And I need your help. I don't know who I can trust, but I know I can't do this alone."
Declan's jaw clenched. "Who would do this to you? To us?"But as the evening shadows lengthened and the city lights flickered on, I knew one thing for sure: our collision was far from over. The destiny we shared was tangled in secrets, danger, and the desperate fight to reclaim the past.
And I was ready to face it all."I think it's connected to your enemies," I whispered, voice barely audible. "The ones who wanted to destroy everything we had."
His eyes darkened with fury. "I won't let them win."
We sat in silence for a long moment, the distance between us slowly shrinking. The café's warmth wrapped around us, but outside, the world remained cold and uncertain.
"Tell me everything," he said finally. "Start from the beginning."
And so I did—telling him about the hospital, the lost memories, the strange photo, the USB with secrets I couldn't yet unlock. As I spoke, the past began to breathe again, filling the spaces inside me with both hope and fear.
Declan listened, never interrupting, but I could see the weight of every word settling on his shoulders.
When I finished, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a small folder. Inside were photos, documents, and notes—evidence he had gathered over the months I was gone.
"We're going to fight this," he said, determination hardening his voice. "We'll uncover who did this and why."
I looked up, meeting his fierce gaze, and felt a spark of something I thought I'd lost—trust. A fragile but real connection, fragile but unbroken.
For the first time in a long time, I believed we might find our way back to each other.