Chapter 71

In the pitch-black night, visibility was poor. A flash of lightning revealed a massive shadow. What was it? Could it be a tree Chase had planted?

Unease crept over me as I approached the enormous figure. It towered over me, shrouded in black fabric. I reached out to remove the tarp, but I couldn't touch anything. All I could do was watch the rain fall along its edges. What was it? What secret lay beneath? Something must connect me to this; otherwise, I wouldn't be here. After a long wait, finding nothing, I returned to Chase.

He'd just showered and lay sprawled on the bed. His phone buzzed incessantly; Nicole's name flashed repeatedly. Strange. He always answered her calls before. Why the nonchalance now?

His dark eyes brewed a storm, as if anticipating something. Perhaps he sensed something was amiss. What was Nicole up to? Maybe he clung to hope, unwilling to dismantle the façade without proof. Finally, Nicole hung up. Chase turned to the movie playing on the projector—"Titanic." The scene showed the ship striking the iceberg, tilting dangerously. Everyone faced death.

I saw Chase's face grow serious. Was he thinking of my ordeal? The hero leaped into the icy water; the heroine clung to a piece of driftwood. The whistle blew. The heroine looked hopefully at the hero, believing herself saved, only to see him frozen solid. He'd perished in the freezing sea. The heroine was heartbroken. Two tears rolled down Chase's cheeks.

He whispered, "Amanda…"

Suddenly, he grabbed his phone, frantically dialing my number, only to hear voicemail. He checked my profile; this time, there were no threats.

His voice, fragile and lost in the night, pleaded, "Amanda, I messed up. I really know it now. Please come back, don't play games with me. I miss you! I shouldn't have left you at the altar. Come back, let's make it work. I'll never hurt you again. You wanted that honeymoon in Las Vegas, right? Just come back, and I'll go anywhere with you. I know about the baby now. I'm so sorry. That day, I was mad about leaving a billion-dollar deal behind. I thought you were joking. I didn't mean to push you. I'm really sorry."

Curled up and utterly lost, Chase was a stranger. Before, hearing him like this, I would have forgiven him, regardless of his actions. Now, I sat on the bed's edge, listening to the "Titanic" theme song, watching Chase's trembling shoulders. I didn't shed a single tear.

"But Chase," I said, "it's too late now. I will never forgive you."

Chapter 72