Elaine Miller stood frozen, heat creeping up her cheeks until her ears burned.

What was he even talking about?

Before she could snap back, Arthur Bennett spoke up first. "That’s right. Elaine has been done with you for a long time. It’s only natural she’d move on. If you really loved her, you’d let her go and let her live her own life."

Arthur’s voice was cold, cutting through the silence. "Is locking her in a room and forcing her to stay by your side your twisted idea of love?"

Marcellus Spencer stood stunned, his mouth opening and closing. Silence stretched thin between them. Finally, he let out a sharp, jagged laugh—a hollow, wretched sound.

He looked at Elaine, his eyes searching hers. "There’s no chance for us, is there? Not anymore."

"There hasn’t been a chance for years."

At her reply, the last spark of light in his eyes flickered out. He seemed to age a decade in an instant, his shoulders slumping under the weight of his own ruin. "I see." He waved a trembling hand toward the door. "Both of you… get out."

Elaine eyed him warily. She waited for the catch, for the inevitable trap, but when he didn’t move, she grabbed Charleigh Flores’s hand and didn't look back. Her resolve was absolute; she walked toward the exit without sparing him a second glance.

Behind her, Marcellus felt his throat tighten, his eyes stinging with a hot, painful pressure.

Suddenly, a wild, disheveled figure lunged from the shadows.

"Elaine Miller! It’s all your fault! You ruined everything! I’m going to kill you!"

Morgan Rose was a blur of frantic motion, her hair a matted mess, eyes rimmed with bloodshot, psychotic rage. She gripped a hunting knife she’d scavenged from somewhere, the blade gleaming as she hurled herself at Elaine.

Marcellus’s pupils constricted. His body moved faster than his conscious mind.

By the time he snapped back to reality, he was already standing directly between Elaine and the blade.

Security guards tackled Morgan to the ground, but it was too late. The hunting knife was buried deep in his chest. A hot, crimson bloom spread across his shirt, dripping onto the pristine carpet.

He looked down, his vision tunneling as the blood pooled.

Months ago, he had shoved Elaine toward Morgan without a second thought, forcing her to take a blade for his lover. Now, history had looped back to collect its debt. Karma wasn’t just a concept; it was a blade in the chest.

"Marcellus!"

Elaine spun around, her face draining of color as she watched him stagger and collapse. She scrambled toward him, her heart hammering against her ribs. She fumbled for her phone, dialing emergency services with shaking fingers.

"Don’t you dare close your eyes!" she screamed, pressing her palm against the wound. "Stay with me! The ambulance is coming!"

"Elaine…" Marcellus’s voice was a ragged whisper, barely audible over the ringing in her ears. "I’m sorry. And… I…"

*I love you.*

The words died in his throat. His head lolled back, and the world dissolved into a vast, suffocating darkness.

***

Marcellus was trapped in a dream.

He was young again, and so was Elaine. She was clinging to his arm, swinging back and forth, her face bright with an innocent, fierce devotion. "Marcellus, promise you’ll marry me when we grow up! I’ll give you so many kids! Won't that be great?"

Her eyes were wide, brimming with a warmth that had once been his entire world.

*Of course,* his younger self thought. *We’re meant to be together forever.*

But his mouth betrayed him, moving of its own accord, reciting the words that had haunted his memory for years: "Don't be ridiculous. I don't love you."

"Stop saying things like that. Morgan says it’s pathetic."

The light in young Elaine’s eyes shattered. Her grip on his arm loosened, her hands falling away like dead leaves. "Pathetic…?" she whispered. "I’m sorry, Marcellus. I won’t like you anymore. I’ll try to like someone else instead."

*No. Don't.*

*Don’t you dare look at anyone else! Come back!*

Marcellus tried to scream, but he was paralyzed, forced to watch as Elaine turned and ran. She grew smaller and smaller, a silhouette fading into the distance until she was completely out of reach.

***

In the sterile silence of the hospital room, Marcellus jolted awake, a strangled "No!" escaping his lips. His skin was slick with cold sweat.

Before Elaine could even reach for the call button to summon a nurse, his eyes snapped open, and he bolted upright, gasping for air.