• Chapter 8

  • The boarding announcement echoed through the terminal as Navier joined the line of passengers

  • onto the plane.

  • As the aircraft lifted off, she watched the city shrink beneath her and silently whispered to herself:

  • “Goodbye forever, Lysander Vanderbilt.”

  • She felt no curiosity about what might unfold at Dusktale Villa. Gazing out the window at the passing clouds, she felt lighter than she had in years.

  • Meanwhile, Celeste’s lips curved into a smile she had practiced countless times. With elegant

  • gentleness, she pressed her fingers against Lysander’s temples.

  • “Lysander, you should stop drinking. You’ll have a terrible headache.”

  • Hearing that voice–familiar yet somehow different–Lysander froze. The whiskey bottle slipped from his hand, but he couldn’t process what was happening.

  • -Only when the bottle shattered on the floor, shards cutting into his leg, did the pain jolt him back to

  • reality.

  • His mind reeled in confusion. Was this a dream? A hallucination? Or…?

  • “Ophelia? Is it… is itreally you? You came back… I waited for you. I never stopped waiting. Seven years, Ophelia–I never forgot you.”

  • such force it was as if he wanted to merge

  • very being.

  • voice trembled. He rested his chin in the crook of her neck as silent tears rolled down his cheeks, falling onto her skin–so cold they made her

  • but she played her

  • patted

  • me. I’m back now. I know. I know you waited. So I fought hard to come back

  • 21.51

  • of Velvet

  • 14.5%

  • Chapter #

  • he would

  • But then-

  • arms around her again, his voice shaking with an

  • came back! I’m not dreaming, am I? You must’ve suffered so much.

  • a way to cure it

  • lose you again.”

  • Celeste relaxed, smiling softly and

  • Celeste’s hand tightly

  • around the villa.

  • warm, not cold like a ghost’s. Ophelia really

  • else mattered. Having her by his side was all that

  • look–I planted these lilies in the garden myself. I remember they were your favorites. Seven years, and

  • you said you wanted a swing in our future home. You wanted me to push you on it. Would you like to try it

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