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Chapter 13 - Thirteen

Chapter thirteen: A man

When he worked, she was there — tucked away in the corners of his mind like a memory too stubborn to fade. When he typed, when he walked, even when he spoke to others, she was always there, lingering in his thoughts like the scent of rain on dry earth. And when he sat quietly, doing nothing but breathing, it was worse. Her face appeared behind his eyelids. Her voice echoed in his head. Her laugh haunted him.

Ever since he saw her at the parking lot that day — just a glimpse, a flash of her hair, the curve of her jaw, the way she hugged herself like the world had gone cold — his mind hadn't belonged to him. She had stolen it effortlessly. She didn't even look at him that day, didn't even know he saw her, but it was enough to wreck him all over again.

Yes, he came back for her. That much was true. That much was painfully obvious.

But…

What if she had someone now?

What if she'd already moved on and filled the space he left behind with someone who didn't leave, someone who didn't break her heart?

What if she didn't want to see him? What if she hated him? What if she left that day—hurried away—not because she had somewhere to be, but because she couldn't stand to be anywhere near him?

His thoughts were screaming, a whirlwind in his head. It was too much. His chest felt tight, like he couldn't breathe. Like just the idea of losing her a second time would kill him faster than any accident could. He gripped the steering wheel tighter, knuckles white and trembling. He stared at the road ahead, trying to anchor himself to the reality outside his head. The only problem? That reality sucked too.

The traffic was murder. He had been sitting in the same spot for what felt like forever — close to thirty minutes of watching the same damn red light, same rows of idle cars, same honking horns.

His jaw clenched.

He seemed frustrated. Annoyed. Angry even.

But was it really the traffic?

Or was it the weight of Daisy's name wrapped around his soul like barbed wire?

Then—suddenly—something shifted.

A strange pull tugged at him. Something unexplainable. That eerie, electric awareness, like a sixth sense. Like the universe was whispering in his ear: she's here.

It could be his imagination. God knew he was losing his mind slowly.

But what if it wasn't?

He blinked and looked around, heart racing for a reason he couldn't name. His eyes scanned the cars beside him, ahead of him, across the lane. And then he saw her.

Daisy.

There she was. In another car, a few feet away, unaware of the chaos she'd caused in his chest. Her hair was pulled back, her eyes sparkled in the kind of way they used to when she was truly happy. She looked good. No—she looked beautiful. Effortless. Like a dream that had somehow come alive.

She was laughing.

Laughing.

And talking.

To a man.

A man who sat beside her like he belonged there. Like he'd earned the right to make her laugh that hard. A man who wasn't him.

The world tilted.

His fingers curled even tighter around the wheel. His pulse thudded in his ears. And yet he couldn't stop staring.

Was this the answer to all his questions?

Was he too late?

Or worse—was she finally happy without him?

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