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She walked furiously down the block in a silly attempt to outrun her memories. But just with all the other days she had done the same thing, it didn't work at all. It never did, and the tears...
I'm happy.
Ethan's raw voice played in her mind.
Oh God.
And the tears became too much.
Blinding her gaze. Choking her. And her heart became so, so tight—-
Oh God.
Her steps jerked to a halt.
Pain had immobilized her, and even as the people around her began to curse, bumping into her, shouldering past her and even shoving her out of the way, she just couldn't make herself move, the pain so devastating that all she could do was cry.
Just one last cry, she promised herself feverishly,and then she'd forget him.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
Just one last cry.
A heaving sob rocked her body at the thought of permanently saying goodbye to the only man she had ever loved.
Just one last cry.
But when she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was him.
An illusion, Anah thought dazedly. He had to be an illusion.
Beverly Hills was crawling with paparazzi, and it was precisely for this reason she had come straight here to work and find herself again. This was the one place that Ethan could still be recognized, the one place that even Guilia herself hadn't been able to make him step a foot in.
So this Ethan walking towards her—-
He had to be an illusion.
Just had to be, with the way he looked so agitated. He hadn't even seemed this agitated when she told him about Guilia fighting for her life after an accident.
So it had to be an illusion.
And yet—-
When this fake Ethan finally came up to her, she still found herself drawing her breath.So close, she thought painfully. Oh God, this fake Ethan was so, so close, that she had to curl her fingers into fists just to resist the urge to reach up and touch him.
"Anah."
Her head shot up.
"Ethan?"
And fake Ethan...turned out to be real as he hauled her close.
Ethan.
He was real.
He was here.