Chapter 5: The Ghost of Christmas Past
The gala was supposed to be the victory lap. It was supposed to be the moment Selene proved to the world—and to herself—that she was untouchable. But the universe has a cruel way of correcting those who think they've escaped their own history.
The air in the ballroom had grown stifling, thick with the scent of expensive lilies and the metallic tang of champagne. Selene stood by the dessert table, her fingers tracing the edge of a crystal flute. She felt Kael's presence behind her before she heard him. He was a constant hum in her periphery, a steady frequency that she was starting to tune into, whether she wanted to or not.
"You're doing that thing again," Kael murmured, his voice barely audible over the string quartet playing a haunting rendition of a pop song.
"What 'thing'?" Selene asked, taking a sip of the golden liquid.
"The 'Ice Queen' stare. You're looking through people instead of at them. It makes you look like a statue. Statues don't have fiancés who adore them. Give me something, Selene. A look, a touch. Anything to make them believe I didn't just buy you at an auction."
Selene turned, her eyes flashing. "Maybe you did, Kael. Maybe that's all this is. A transaction. Don't get confused by the suit."
But the retort died on her lips. Across the room, near the grand mahogany doors, the crowd parted. A man walked in. He wasn't dressed like the others. He wore a velvet blazer that screamed "old money" and a smile that had once been the only thing Selene needed to get through the day.
Dreezy. Or as the world knew him, Adedre.
The flute in Selene's hand trembled. For a woman who claimed to have no heart, the sudden, violent thudding in her chest was a terrifying betrayal.
The Unforgettable Mistake
Selene watched him approach. Every step he took felt like a year being stripped away from her. She wasn't the CEO of Aura Media anymore. She wasn't the woman who signed ghostwriting contracts and lived in a glass penthouse. She was twenty-one again, standing in the rain outside a lecture hall, believing that "I love you" was a promise, not a placeholder.
Adedre didn't look like a ghost. He looked vibrant. He looked like he hadn't spent a single night wondering why she had disappeared. He looked like the man who had taken her heart, looked at it like a curious artifact, and then set it down in the dust.
"Selene," he said, his voice a smooth, familiar velvet. "It's been a long time. I heard you were making waves. I didn't realize you were making them with... company."
He turned his gaze to Kael. It wasn't a friendly look. It was the look of a man who owned the land and was watching a squatter build a campfire on it.
"And you are?" Adedre asked, his tone dripping with a condescension that made Selene's blood boil.
Kael didn't flinch. He didn't even shift his weight. He stepped forward, closing the small gap between him and Selene, and placed a hand firmly on the small of her back. The warmth of his palm was the only thing keeping Selene from shattering.
"I'm the man who's replacing the memories you ruined," Kael said. The words were quiet, but they cut through the room like a razor.
The Shattered Glass
The silence that followed was deafening. Adedre's smile faltered, just for a second, before it snapped back into place like a broken spring. "Bold words for someone I've never seen on a Forbes list. Selene, darling, surely your tastes haven't dropped this far? From the boardroom to... what is this? A charity project?"
"He's my fiancé, Adedre," Selene said, her voice sounding far away to her own ears. "And unlike you, he doesn't need a list to tell him who he is. Now, if you'll excuse us, we were just leaving. The air in here has become... stale."
She didn't wait for a response. She turned, her heels striking the floor with a lethal precision, and practically dragged Kael toward the exit. She didn't stop until they were outside, the cool night air of Lagos hitting her face like a slap.
The Breakdown in High-Definition
They reached the silver sedan in the parking lot. The valet was nowhere to be seen. Selene leaned against the cold metal of the car, her breath coming in jagged gasps. The "CSH" edit of her life was glitching. The frames were jumping. The clarity was gone.
"Selene," Kael said softly, reaching for her.
"Don't," she snapped, her eyes blurred with tears she refused to let fall. "Don't touch me. Don't look at me. You were supposed to be a prop, Kael. You weren't supposed to say that. You weren't supposed to defend me."
"Why?" Kael asked, his voice raw. "Because it makes it harder to pretend you don't care? Because if I'm real, then the pain he caused is real too?"
"I don't feel pain!" Selene screamed into the empty night. "I'm a ghostwriter! I write the feelings other people are too weak to handle! I've spent three years building a world where no one can get close enough to see the watermarks! And you... you just walked in and started editing the script!"
Kael didn't back away. He stepped into her storm. He took her face in his hands—the "Ice Queen" mask, the porcelain skin, the trembling lips—and he forced her to look at him.
"Then let me edit it," he whispered. "Let me be the one part of your life that isn't a contract. You want a love without a heart? Fine. Use mine. Because yours is currently trying to break through your ribs, and I'm the only one here to catch the pieces."
Selene looked at him, and for the first time in 10,000 words, she didn't have a comeback. She didn't have a witty line or a sharp dismissal. She just had the silence, the rain starting to fall again, and the terrifying realization that the "Mistake" wasn't what happened three years ago.
The mistake was thinking she could survive this without him.