I wake up before sunrise, breathing hard. My sheets are damp with sweat, my heart racing like I just ran a mile.
It happened again.
The dream.
No, not a dream.
A memory.
In it, I was standing in a white wedding dress, surrounded by whispers and laughter. My hands were shaking, and a man said my name like it was a lie. Then the sound of glass breaking, a flash of fire, and pain so sharp I could barely breathe.
I sit up and press my hand against my chest. "It's just a dream," I whisper to myself. "Just a dream."
But deep down, I know it's not.
It feels too real.
Downstairs, the mansion is quiet. Adrian's already left for a meeting. The silence feels heavy, like the walls are keeping secrets.
I make myself coffee and try to shake off the images, but they don't fade. Every sound, every shadow, reminds me of that moment of the day my life ended.
When the doorbell rings, I almost drop my cup.
The maid opens the door, and there she is again, Clara Holt.
She's dressed in white today, smiling like the devil in daylight.
"Good morning, Mrs. Blackwood," she says sweetly. "Is Adrian home?"
"No," I reply, keeping my tone cold. "And you shouldn't be here."
"Oh, but I wanted to drop something off."
She holds out a small velvet box. "A wedding gift."
I hesitate. "I don't want anything from you."
Clara shrugs. "You might want this one. It used to belong to you."
My blood runs cold.
"What are you talking about?" I ask.
She just smiles and places the box on the table. "Open it when you're alone."
Before I can stop her, she turns and walks away.
I wait until she's gone, then slowly lift the lid.
Inside is a silver bracelet, simple, elegant, with tiny engraved letters on the inside.
I turn it over and read the words:
"To Emma Forever Starts Today."
My breath catches. I've seen this before. I wore this. On my wedding day.
But that's impossible.
That bracelet burned with me.
The rest of the day passes in a blur. My hands tremble every time I look at the bracelet. I try to focus on something else, anything else, but my mind keeps circling back to Clara's words.
"You're not the only one who remembers."
What did she mean?
That night, Adrian returns home late. He finds me sitting in the study, staring at the bracelet on the table.
"What's that?" he asks.
I hesitate. "A gift. From your ex."
His expression hardens instantly. "Clara came here?"
"Yes."
He walks closer, his tone sharp. "What did she say to you?"
"Nothing important," I lie. "She just wanted to give me this."
He looks down at the bracelet, frowning. "I've never seen it before."
"You sure?" I ask quietly.
He nods. "Why?"
I swallow hard. "Because… I think it belonged to me before."
He gives me a confused look. "Before what?"
I look at him at the man who once let me die in another life. But he doesn't remember. Not yet.
"Never mind," I whisper. "It's just a feeling."
He studies me for a moment, his eyes searching mine. "You've been acting strange since that dinner," he says softly. "Is there something you're not telling me?"
"Would you believe me if I told you?"
"Try me."
I shake my head and stand up. "No. Some things are better left buried."
Later that night, I couldn't sleep again. I sit by the window, holding the bracelet in my hand. The moonlight reflects off its surface, and for a second, I see another reflection of me, in a wedding dress, smiling through tears.
The same bracelet on my wrist.
The same moment before everything fell apart.
I gasp and drop it.
My head throbs. Images flash in my mind: my old life, my betrayal, my death.
Someone's voice echoes faintly:
"I'm sorry, Emma. It was never meant to be you."
I press my palms to my temples, trying to block it out. "Stop," I whisper. "Stop it."
But the voices keep'', flashes of faces, laughter, fire, and pain.
Then, suddenly, everything goes still.
A new image appears.
Claris a standing in front of a burning altar, watching me fall.
Her face was calm. Her eyes were cold.
And then, she smiles.
I jolt awake, gasping for air. The bracelet lies on the floor beside the bed, glinting in the moonlight.
For the first time, I realize the truth.
Clara wasn't just someone from Adrian's past.
She was part of mine.