OLD FLAME

Melisa lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, her eyes raw from crying. Streaks of mascara stained her cheeks, a reminder of how much she had let herself break. Her golden hair was a tangled mess, the product of restless tossing and turning, but she didn't care. What was the point?

With a deep breath, she forced herself up and dragged her feet to the bathroom. The harsh fluorescent light flickered as she leaned over the sink, gripping its edges like it was the only thing keeping her upright. Slowly, she lifted her gaze to the mirror.

There it was.

The Timer.

She bit her lip, a bitter laugh escaping her throat. It was almost funny—almost. She had spent so long believing she was the only one, the only person cursed with a countdown. But no. Out of all people, Anakin had to see it too.

She shook her head and let out another dry, humorless laugh.

Why him?

THE NEXT DAY.

Anakin sat at a small table in a quiet café, tapping his fingers against the wooden surface. The air smelled of roasted chicken, a scent that usually calmed him, but today, it barely registered. His mind was elsewhere—on the past, on regrets, on the cruel ticking clock no one else could see.

Then she arrived.

Lillian.

Her dark hair fell in soft waves around her face, the same as always. The silver lip piercing caught the light as she approached, her expression unreadable. She slid into the seat across from him with a simple, indifferent greeting.

"Hi."

Anakin leaned back in his chair, scanning her face for any sign of warmth. There was none.

"So," he said, cutting straight to the point, "what did you want to talk about?"

Lillian crossed her arms. "I heard you proposed to Eva."

He blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in topic. "Yeah… What about it?"

"You do know that I live in her dorm, right?"

Anakin frowned. "Yeah… What about it?"

Lillian rolled her eyes. "You're an insufferable idiot, you know that? Now things are awkward between us!"

Something in Anakin snapped. His grip on the table tightened as frustration boiled over.

"For god's sake, if this is why you called me here, then we're done."

Lillian fell silent. For a brief moment, her expression softened—but only for a moment. Then, she took a breath and spoke again.

"No… there's something else."

Anakin exhaled sharply. "Say it."

Lillian leaned forward slightly, studying him with an intensity that made his skin prickle. "Answer me this question first."

Anakin gave a single nod. "Go ahead."

Lillian's voice was quieter now, almost hesitant. "Even when we were together… you always wanted Eva, didn't you?"

Anakin didn't hesitate. "No."

Lillian tilted her head slightly. "You wanted me?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Yes."

She leaned back, arms still crossed, an unreadable look in her eyes. "You know what I think?"

Anakin sighed. "What?"

Lillian's voice was steady, but there was something sharp underneath. "I think you only dated me to piss Damien off."

Anakin scowled. "Hell no."

"That's how it felt."

His jaw clenched. "Is that why you broke up with me?"

For a moment, she didn't respond. Then, finally, she spoke.

"I'll tell you why I broke up with you."

Anakin exhaled through his nose, trying to keep his emotions in check. "I'm listening. Tell me."

Lillian hesitated. For the first time, she looked almost… uneasy.

"Anakin… do you know why your mother and father divorced last year?"

A sudden chill crept up his spine. He stiffened. The memory—the pain—rushed back like a tidal wave.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, his voice quieter now.

"Do you know the real reason?"

His eyes darkened. "Why the hell are you asking me this?"

Lillian's fists clenched. "Answer my fucking question!"

Anakin's breathing grew uneven. "Because my dad cheated on my mom. Why does it matter? I didn't cheat on you."

Lillian looked away, her expression unreadable. "It matters."

A heavy silence stretched between them.

Then, she finally said it.

"Anakin… your mother cheated on your father."

The world stopped.

The café, the voices, the distant hum of the city outside—it all blurred into nothingness. A hollow ringing filled his ears. He could barely register the words, but they had already carved themselves into his mind.

His voice was barely a whisper. "What the fuck…"

Lillian met his wide-eyed stare. "That's the truth."

His breath came in short, uneven gasps. "How do you know? What are you talking about? Don't fuck with me, Lillian."

"I'm not fucking with you."

His head felt light, like he might pass out. "Tell me everything."

Lillian took a deep breath, as if steadying herself. "Your mother cheated on your father… with my father."

The weight of the words crushed him. His heart pounded against his ribs, his hands trembled. His entire reality—everything he had believed—shattered in an instant.

Lillian reached across the table and took his hands in hers. Her grip was warm, grounding.

"I know how painful it is," she whispered. "But that's the truth, Anakin. I've lived with it for the past six months. Now, you have to live with it too."

Anakin didn't cry. He didn't scream. He simply chuckled—a broken, empty sound.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

Lillian exhaled softly. "I didn't want you to suffer, Anakin. Continuing our relationship felt wrong."

Anakin gave a hollow nod. His world had already crumbled—what difference did it make now?

Lillian reached into her bag, pulling out a small stack of papers. She slid them across the table.

"What's this?" he asked, his voice distant.

"Letters," she said simply. "Letters that Eva wrote to you."

His head snapped up. "What?"

"Read them," she said. "Don't ask more."

Lillian stood, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

"I have to go."

Anakin nodded absentmindedly, still staring at the letters.

Before she left, he asked, "Did you ever talk to your father about this?"

Lillian's lips curled into something resembling a bitter smile. "He doesn't care, Anakin."

Anakin chuckled dryly. "Did you ever hit your parent?"

Lillian paused for a second, then turned and walked away.

And just like that, she was gone.