I reached home. My mom opened the door like she had been glued to it for days. The moment she saw me, she gasped like she'd seen a ghost and pulled me into the tightest hug I've ever felt.
"My baby… you're okay… oh thank God!" she sobbed into my hair, her hands trembling against my back.
I didn't say anything. I just hugged her back and let the tears fall. For once, I didn't have to pretend to be okay.
---
The next morning at school, everything felt heavier. Like the air had a texture.
My steps slowed the moment I saw Peter and Chloe sitting together near the back bench, both of them hunched over something. Their heads bent close, whispering urgently and drawing—wait… a map?
They were drawing a freaking map. Of what? My heart twisted. Maybe of the places I could've gone. Maybe they were planning their next desperate search.
Peter's eyes looked red. Not just from crying, but from sleepless nights. Chloe too—her eyeliner wasn't even smudged because she hadn't worn any. That's when I knew things had been bad. Really bad.
I stood there for a moment, frozen. What do I even say?
Hey, I ran into the woods, met a hot guy who could be from a mafia movie, slept in his mansion, kissed him, and found out he's a Grace? Oh, and now I have no clue who the hell I love. End of story.
Yeah. No.
My stomach twisted. My palms were sweaty. And I had never hated my own decisions more than I did in that moment.
---
I walked toward them slowly, and the second they looked up—my chest caved in.
"Emma?" Peter stood up so fast his chair screeched.
"Emma!" Chloe gasped, blinking as if I were a hallucination.
Peter didn't even wait for me to respond. He ran. Like literally bolted and crashed into me, wrapping his arms around me like I'd disappear if he let go.
I was stiff for a second, then I hugged him back. And that's when I felt it—regret. Guilt. Pain. All at once, flooding my chest.
I buried my face in his shoulder.
Why did I kiss Liam?
Why did it feel so right and so wrong at the same time?
I heard Peter breathe in sharply and then exhale with a trembling sound. He was trying not to cry, trying to pretend to be strong.
But I felt it. A small sob escaped him. Just one. And then silence.
He didn't let go for what felt like hours.
Finally, when he did, his eyes looked straight into mine, filled with a thousand unsaid things. But he didn't ask any of them.
He just whispered, "You okay?"
I nodded. "Yeah. Now I am."
Chloe came and wrapped her arms around both of us. "You idiot. You freaking idiot. We thought—" her voice cracked, "—we thought we lost you."
I sighed. "I'm sorry. I just… needed to breathe. To think."
Peter sat down, still staring at me. Chloe pulled me to the chair between them.
Then came the questions.
---
"Where did you go?"
"Why didn't you pick up your phone?"
"Are you hurt?"
"Was it because of me—us—what happened?"
I told them everything.
The moment in the woods.
Running into a road I'd never seen.
The fancy black car.
The stranger who picked me up.
That he took me to a safe place.
That he let me stay in his mansion.
That he was kind. That he listened. That he helped me laugh.
That he knew about the Graces.
But I left out the kiss.
And the fluttery stomach feelings.
And how he made me feel like I could breathe again.
And how he said he wanted to be my last love.
Because… how do you tell your first love that?
---
Peter listened, nodded, asked gentle questions. His hand was on mine the whole time.
But then, something changed.
His thumb paused.
His body stiffened.
He looked at me with that quiet intensity only Peter had.
And he said, voice low, "What else did you do?"
My heart stopped.
"What do you mean?" I asked, too quickly. Too defensively.
"There's something you're not saying," he said. "And it's not about you. I can tell it's something that would hurt me."
Chloe looked between us, quiet.
"I didn't do anything," I said, too flat. Too rehearsed.
Peter slowly pulled his hand away.
And suddenly, the air was different. Colder.
"Emma," he said, his voice calm but breaking. "Don't lie to me."
"I'm not," I said. My voice cracked.
He nodded, slow. "Okay."
I could tell he didn't believe me fully.
But he was trying to.
He was choosing to.
---
The silence sat between us like a third person.
"I trust you," he finally said. "Even if it's hard right now."
And that sentence broke me more than a scream ever could.
I turned away. Looked at Chloe.
She looked back at me like she knew the truth but wasn't going to push.
Peter stood up. "I'm glad you're safe, Emma. Really."
Before he walked away, he turned back and added quietly:
"Just tell me when you're ready. I'll be here. I always have been."
---
I watched him walk away, feeling like I just lost a piece of myself.
I clutched my phone. Scrolled through old photos.
One with Peter holding my hand at the carnival.
Another of us laughing over pizza with Chloe.
And then one of Liam.
His stupid perfect jawline.
That little smirk.
And his words echoing in my mind:
"Peter may be your first love, but I intend to be your last."
"My name... don't forget it. I'm Liam Grace. And I love you."
My stomach turned.
I was in love with two boys.
And one was Grace.
And somehow… that was the scariest thing of all.
After Peter walked away, something in me cracked. But not completely.
I turned to Chloe, hoping for comfort. But the moment our eyes met, I knew—she knew.
She didn't speak at first. She just stared, long and hard.
"You kissed someone else," she said. No drama. No softness. Just plain disappointment.
I swallowed. "Yeah."
Her lips pressed into a line. "You don't have to tell me who. I already know."
My eyes widened. "How?"
"Emma. I'm your best friend. Do you really think I wouldn't feel it when something that big happened in your life?"
I looked away, biting my lip, my eyes burning. "I didn't mean for it to happen. It just… did. I was confused. Hurt. Lost."
"You think that excuses it?"
"No," I whispered.
Silence.
Then Chloe sighed and pulled me into a hug. "I'm disappointed in you," she said softly. "But I'm also with you. You're my best friend. Even if you mess up, I'm not leaving your side."
I let out a shaky breath, hugging her back. "I don't deserve you."
"Yeah, you don't. But I'm still here, idiot."
On my way back home, I felt hollow. Torn between two people. One who felt like my heart… and one who felt like my destiny.
That's when I saw the sleek black car again. Parked right across the street.
Liam.
Leaning casually against the car, arms folded, sunglasses pushed up into his hair, smirking like the world belonged to him.
I shouldn't have gone.
But I did.
I walked across the street .
I sat inside Liam's car, the door clicking shut behind me like a soft trap.
"Just tell me who you are," I said firmly. "And no, don't take me anywhere. I just need to talk. Here, Liam. Right now."
He leaned back in the driver's seat, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel like he had all the time in the world.
"You speak too much, my love," he muttered with a smirk.
And before I could roll my eyes or say another word, he kissed me.
A peck. Lightning quick.
I didn't even feel it happen—just the aftershock of it buzzing on my skin.
"Liam!" I gasped, half angry, half… fluttery. "Stop doing that!"
He grinned. "Couldn't help it."
I shook my head, trying to ground myself. "Enough. Just answer me. Is your mother Mrs. Grace? And why didn't you tell me when I told you everything—my visions, my pain… You knew, didn't you?"
He went quiet.
That smirk? Gone.
"I knew," he said finally.
I blinked, disbelief slamming into my chest. "So why stay silent?"
"Because hearing your pain… from your own mouth… hit me harder than you can imagine." He looked straight ahead. "It was like hearing a ghost scream."
I stared at him. "Liam. Who are you?"
His eyes darkened a shade, like clouds swallowing sunlight.
"There's only one thing I can tell you right now," he said. "I am the strongest creature you've ever met. And the only reason I let you look me in the eye, touch me, exist near me… is because I like you. If I didn't, you'd be dead already."
A chill raced down my spine.
I grabbed the door handle on instinct.
Click.
The door locked.
His voice turned soft again. "I'd never hurt you, Emma. Don't be afraid of me."
"Then let me out," I whispered.
"Not yet."
"Then talk."
He sighed and leaned slightly closer. "You keep asking who I am. So let me give you a piece of the truth."
I watched him, heart hammering in my chest.
"You think you survived that torture in your past life on your own?" he said. "You didn't. You should've died in that place, Emma. You almost did."
I felt like the air got pulled out of the car.
"I was the one who saved you," he said. "Back then. Not now. Not in this life. But then—when the world was darker, and you were alone… I came. I found you. Broken. Bloody. Barely breathing."
He paused, voice quieter now.
"I carried your body out myself. I buried the ones who hurt you with my own hands. I watched you die in my arms. And I cried like I've never cried before."
My throat was dry.
"I was in the mural," he whispered. "That mural Chloe showed you? The boy with the mark under his eye?"
My lips parted."no she showed me a boy who looked like Peter, but I never cared to see what actually the mural looks like, I mean I didn't notice"
"That was me. Holding you. After everything was over."
My skin broke out in goosebumps.
"Liam…"
"I swore on your grave I'd never let anyone hurt you again," he said. "And then I spent decades not knowing where you were. Not even knowing if you came back. Until two years ago…"
He turned to look at me, slowly.
"I saw you. On the steps of your school. Laughing. Alive. And in that moment, Emma… every lifetime, every memory—came flooding back."
Tears welled up in my eyes.
"You remembered me before I remembered you," I said.
He nodded slowly. "And I stayed away. I watched. Waited. Until fate threw us together again."
I wiped at my cheek quickly.
"I love Peter," I whispered, needing to say it. "No matter how crazy this is… no matter how much you meant to me back then… I love him now. I always will."
Liam's smile was slow, sad.
"I know," he said.
"Then why do this?" I asked, almost angry. "Why make it harder for me?"
"Because that doesn't change the fact you love me too."
My heart stuttered.
"You can't decide that for me!" I said.
"I'm not deciding," he whispered. "I'm reminding."
My voice cracked. "We've known each other for two days."
"And kissed twice," he added gently. "But our souls? They've known each other for centuries."
I looked away, tears slipping out.
"You're making this impossible."
"You think this is easy for me?" he said, his voice suddenly thick. "Watching you love someone else? Watching you look at him like he holds the stars? I died for you once, Emma. And I'd do it again."
I sat in stunned silence.
He took a deep breath. "I'm not asking you to choose. I'm just asking you not to run."