Chapter 17
In Wesley Hawthorne’s private wine cellar, crystal glasses caught the amber glow of the dim lights.
He’d already drained half a bottle of Macallan, but the bitterness stuck in his throat like a stubborn ghost. The memories–those alcohol couldn’t numb–only sharpened with every sip.
“Idiot,” Wesley muttered to the empty room, unsure if he was cursing Serena Whitmore from his past life or himself for repeating the same mistakes in this one.
When his glass ran dry again, a low, bitter chuckle escaped him.
How ironic. In this life, he’d planned to quietly stand by her side, waiting for the day she might finally glance his way.
But fate, ever the cruel jester, made her turn back
Only it was guilt from their past life that pulled her in.
“Wesley Hawthorne, you haven’t learned a damn thing,” he said to himself, tossing back the last of the whiskey. The glass hit the marble countertop with a heavy clink.
A sudden, icy hand gripped his wrist.
Wesley turned—and there she was. Serena, standing silently behind him like a shadow.
Barefoot, her toes p pressing against the cold stone floor. I
floor, her eyes locked onto his.
Their gazes met. Serena’s pupils shrank, startled.
She’d never seen Wesley like this–his shirt collar hanging loose, his usually pristine hair falling messily over his forehead, bloodshot eyes revealing a man unraveling at the seams.
“You…” Her voice caught
“How’d
you get in?” His hoarse voice barely sounded like |
Serena twirled a key between her fingers. “Won it in a bet.”
his own
Wesley blinked, memories flooding back. She’d kept that spare key all along.
He looked away. “Here to mock me?”
Without hesitation, Serena snatched the glass from his hand and drained the last drops of whiskey. The burn made her wince, but she held steady
“I’m not here to mock you,” she said softly. “I’m here to tell you something ”
“I’m not choosing Julian Blackwell because he betrayed me.”
“And I’m not choosing you out of guilt.
Her fingertips traced the faded scar above his eyebrow–the remnant of a fight when they were fifteen.
*This time, I finally know who’s worth it
Silence fell over the cellar, broken only by the steady rhythm of their breathing
Wesley’s throat tightened as he swallowed hard.
He meant to push her away, but his fingers betrayed him, curling around her slender wrist, pulling her closer.
*Serena,” he said, las voice low and rough, “do you know why I never show up to your birthday parties?”
She shook her head
“Because when you turned twenty–two,” he murmured, thumb tracing the pulse at her wrist, “I watched you walk toward Julian Blackwell. And I told myself–if that’s what you wanted, if it made you happy, I’d let you go.”
Tears spilled from Serena’s eyes, falling onto the back of his hand.
Wesley shot to his feet as if burned, but Serena grabbed the hem of his shirt.
“Wesley,” she said, voice breaking, “if I’d chosen Julian again in this life, what would you have done?”
His jaw clenched tight. After a long pause, he ground out, “I’d keep watching”
“Even if I died in front of you again?”
Her words sliced through the last barrier between them like a blade.
Wesley bent down, scooping her into his arms, striding toward the staircase. Serena squirmed.
“Put me down!”
“Quiet.” He kicked open the bedroom door. But when he set her gently on the bed, his touch softened. “Your feet are bleeding ”
Serena looked down, realizing she’d stepped on broken glass in the cellar.
Wesley returned with a first–aid kit, kneeling to carefully pick out the shards with tweezers. When he dabbed alcohol on the wounds, she flinched.
“Serves you right,” he muttered, though his hands grew even gentler
When he finished bandaging her feet, he rose to leave, but Serena wrapped her arms around him from behind.
“The first day I came back,” she said, face pressed to his back, voice muffled, “I bought a plane ticket to Switzerland.”
Wesley froze.
“I waited at the airport all day, but the flight got delayed, then canceled because of the weather.” Her arms tightened. “That’s when I decided I’d wait for you to come back. No matter what, I’d hold on to you this time.”
Moonlight filtered through sheer curtains, casting tangled shadows on the floor.
Wesley turned slowly, cupping her face. His thumb brushed the damp corner of her eye, his gaze heavy with unspoken fears.
“Severa,” he murmured, “aren’t you afraid we’ll just repeat the same mistakes?”
She rose on her toes, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Then we’ll meet again in the next life.”
That gentle kiss shattered Wesley’s defenses.
He pulled her closer, deepening the kiss, the scent of amber and whiskey overwhelming her senses.
When they finally parted, Serena realized their fingers were intertwined.
Wesley’s palm burned against hers.
At first light, Serena wolor in Wesley’s arms.
He slept deeply, the crease between his brows finally smoothed.
She traced his features with a fingertip from the sharp line of his brow to the bridge of his nose.
Her phone buzzed A news alert flashed across the screen:
Breaking News. Blackwell Group Implicated in Financial Fraud, Stock Plummets 50%
