Chapter -4

Ian's Pov

I called my mom.

The moment she picked up, her voice was filled with worry.

"Ian? Finally! How are you? I was so worried. You weren't answering your phone!"

I sighed, rubbing my temple. "Sorry, Mom. I was just tired."

"That's why I sent Lily to your place. Let her stay with you and take care of you."

I exhaled sharply. "Mom, I can take care of myself. I'm fine now."

There was a pause. Then, in that firm yet gentle tone of hers, she said, "Just let her be there, Ian. For my peace of mind."

"Uhm... Mom, she just left. No need to bother her." I leaned back, running a hand through my hair. "She's already doing enough—handling both her duties as my secretary and... as my fiancée. Let her rest."

Mom sighed. "Yes, I worry about her too."

I exhaled, steering the conversation away. "By the way, Mom, how's your vacation going?"

Her tone immediately softened. "Oh, it's lovely! The weather here is just perfect. You should take a break too, Ian. Overworking yourself won't do you any good."

I chuckled dryly. "You know me, Mom. Work first, everything else later."

She sighed again, but didn't push.

I talked about this and that, letting the conversation drift until I finally ended the call. Today had been exhausting—mentally, emotionally. My body felt heavy, my mind cluttered. I shut my eyes, surrendering to sleep.

But the moment I did, I was back in that white abyss.

A familiar voice echoed through the void. "Ian. I believe you are ready for it, my child."

God's voice. Again.

I inhaled sharply, my chest tightening. "What do I need to do?" I asked, my voice firm this time.

"You have to save Evelyn Winslow from dying."

I stared into the nothingness, my mind reeling. "But that's her personal issue, isn't it? Besides... you're the creator. You could just bring her back to life. Give her a happy life so she never thinks of ending it."

Silence stretched between us for a moment before God finally responded.

"I do not control fate, Ian. People make choices, and those choices shape their lives. I can guide them, but I cannot take away their free will."

I clenched my fists. Then why ask me to save her if you won't just undo it yourself? The frustration burned inside me, but I held my tongue.

"Evelyn's suffering is a result of choices—hers and those around her. If I simply erase it, she will never truly heal. But you… you have the chance to change her path before she reaches that end."

My breath hitched. Change her path? I wanted to scoff. I wasn't a hero. I wasn't some savior. I had already let Evelyn slip through my fingers once. What made him think I could do anything differently now?

"Bringing someone back to life does not fix what was broken inside them," the god continued, as if reading my thoughts. "Even if I erase her death, the pain remains. She will still be lost, still feel like she does not belong. But you, Ian... you have the power to reach her before it's too late."

I swallowed hard.

"She is already dead in your present time. But I am giving you a choice—to go back. To relive the moments leading up to her death. Change her fate, and perhaps, your own."

A heavy silence settled between us. My heartbeat thundered in my ears.

"Why me? What do I have to do with her fate?" My voice was sharp, laced with frustration.

The god remained silent for a moment, as if allowing my own thoughts to consume me.

"This is ridiculous. I haven't seen her in ten years. I don't owe her anything." The words left my lips, but even as I said them, they felt hollow.

My grip tightened. Then why did I feel this ache in my chest? Why did she still haunt me?

"Because, Ian," the god's voice was steady, unwavering, "you never truly let her go."

I sucked in a breath. A sharp, bitter laugh escaped me. "That's not true."

"Isn't it?"

My fingers curled into fists. No. I had moved on. I had money, power, and a life that most people dreamed of. Evelyn was nothing more than a ghost from my past—one I had buried long ago.

Yet, in this empty, white void, with no distractions, no noise—just me and the truth I couldn't escape—she felt closer than ever.

"You say you don't care," the god continued, "but if that were true, you wouldn't be here. You wouldn't still be searching for something even you can't name."

I exhaled sharply. "So what? You expect me to go back in time and fix everything? You expect me to save someone who probably didn't even want to be saved?"

"I expect nothing. I only offer you the truth: Evelyn Winslow was never meant to die that night. And if you choose to return, you may find the answers you've been seeking."

My heart pounded.

The past? Reliving it? Facing her again?

Could I really do it?

Did I even have a choice?