The Night the Past Bled Through
The café was dim, cozy, and quiet—the kind of place Hazel usually found comfort in. But tonight, it felt too loud.
Every scrape of a mug, every hiss of the espresso machine grated on her nerves.
She took a shaky sip of her drink and stared blankly at the table.
Jenna arrived minutes later, sliding into the seat across from her with a concerned
smile and a coffee to-go cup in hand.
"You look like hell," Jenna said softly.
Hazel gave a tired smile. "That's generous."
"Is this about your mystery man again?"
Hazel hesitated, then exhaled. "Jenna… I need to tell you everything."
And she did.
She told her about the man in the nightclub—the chemistry, the tension, the pull
she couldn't explain.
She told her about the dreams that weren't just dreams, about waking up feeling like someone else.
About seeing flashes of a life she never lived.
She spoke about Aiden.
About the resemblance to Emily.
The warnings. The fear.
The strange man at her office—Liam—and the creeping dread that something
terrible was waiting just out of sight.
Jenna sat through it all, wide-eyed and silent, holding her hand.
Hazel laughed bitterly. "I sound crazy, don't I?"
"No," Jenna said firmly.
"You sound like someone trying to piece together a broken puzzle.
You're allowed to feel like you're losing it."
"I feel like I'm being watched. Manipulated. Like the past is trying to drag me under."
"It might be," Jenna said, and sipped her coffee. "But you're not alone."
They moved to a nearby bar after the café closed.
Hazel needed something stronger than caffeine. One drink turned into two.
Two turned into four.
And by the time the lights grew hazy and her words slurred, the room spun not
from alcohol—but from something inside her cracking open.
She stumbled to the bathroom, gripping the cold porcelain sink to steady herself.
Then the world slipped sideways.
FLASHBACK – EMILY
Rain hit the windows like thrown stones. Emily's breath came fast, uneven, as she
pushed open the door of the penthouse apartment she hadn't stepped foot in for weeks.
Aiden wasn't home.
Good.
She didn't want him to see her like this—shaking, soaked, broken.
She had just left Liam's place. Or what she thought was his place.
The woman—dark-haired, beautiful, confident—had answered the door wearing
Liam's shirt. And Liam… hadn't even looked guilty.
Emily stood in the living room, her throat burning with rage and disbelief.
He never loved her.
She had risked everything for him.
Her marriage. Her peace. Her identity.
She stumbled into Aiden's study, the one place he'd forbidden her to go.
But tonight, she didn't care. She found a pen and paper and began to write, tears blurring the words.
If you're reading this, I was right. He wasn't who I thought. He'll say he's protecting her. That's how it always starts.
She folded the note, sealed it, and tucked it into one of the old books Aiden always kept locked away.
Then she walked back out into the storm.
The city blurred in the downpour. Streetlights shimmered like ghosts.
Her heels clicked on wet pavement as she wandered without thinking—just pain,
just fury, just noise in her ears.
And then she was in the middle of the road.
PRESENT – HAZEL
Hazel gasped.
Her hand shot to her mouth. Her knees buckled beneath her in the bathroom stall.
The vision had been so clear. So real.
She wasn't dreaming. She had lived that moment.
Emily had lived that moment.
And then—
FLASHBACK – EMILY
Headlights.
Screeching tires.
A car swerved too late.
Pain exploded in her chest.
She hit the ground. Hard.
A moment of silence. Then footsteps.
Liam's voice. "Emily?!"
But she couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe.
Another figure stumbled out of the driver's seat.
Aiden.
His eyes wide, lips parted in horror, drunk and shaking.
The world tilted.
She saw both their faces as her vision went dark.
Liam. Aiden.
And then, nothing.
PRESENT – HAZEL
Hazel jolted upright in the stall, drenched in sweat despite the chill.
Her hands trembled.
She remembered it now. All of it.
Emily's death hadn't been simple. It hadn't been fate. It had been a perfect storm of betrayal, heartbreak, and one irreversible moment.
Aiden had hit her.
Liam had watched.
And now both men were circling her life again—pulling her toward a fate she hadn't yet escaped.
She stumbled out of the bathroom and into Jenna's arms.
"You okay?" Jenna asked.
Hazel shook her head. "No… but I think I finally know who I am."
Jenna looked confused but didn't push.
Hazel's phone buzzed.
Aiden:
You okay? I have a bad feeling.
Hazel stared at the message. She wanted to scream. Cry. Sleep for a year.
But there was no time.
She had seen how it ended before.
And refused to let it happen again.