Rebirth: Love me Again

The moment I glanced at the door, my heart sank.

Cole Fay stood there, towering like a celestial figure beside his sister, Lina. They looked as though they had descended from the heavens themselves, every bit the ethereal angels they were known to be.

Cole's perfectly sculpted face was framed by sleek, grey hair, his eyes gleaming with that cold, calculating light I'd grown to known and love in the past.

He wore a sleek, black long-sleeve shirt that hugged his toned frame, paired with tailored black pants that exuded effortless style. The only accessory he needed was the subtle gleam of a Patek Philippe watch on his wrist, understated yet undeniably commanding.

The simplicity of his look made it all the more striking—refined, confident, and dangerous in its elegance.

The Fay twins always exuded an otherworldly aura, like something untouchable, pristine, and deadly.

In any other setting, their presence might have been seen as a blessing, a sign of divine favor. But in my case? Cole was no angel come to save me—he was a devil in angel's clothing, a demon sent to drag me to hell.

And with him, he brought the full weight of my impending doom.

Lina, by contrast, glowed with serene beauty. Her long, flowing brown hair almost golden caught the dim light of the room, making it shimmer like spun gold. Her soft, alabaster features were framed by her delicate white dress, which only heightened her angelic appearance.

She stood slightly behind her brother, her expression neutral, like she was merely there because she was curious.

When our eyes met, her face lit up, a spark of genuine happiness softening her features.

"Eve, I'm so glad you're alright. We heard what happened, so we decided to visit," Lina announced as she breezed into the room without so much as a glance at Sophie.

She placed a bouquet of flowers and a basket of fruit on the bedside table, her graceful movements as casual as they were deliberate.

No hesitation, no doubt—just the typical, gentle kindness that Lina embodied. She moved to my side, her brows knitted in concern as she asked, "How are you feeling?"

"Do you want an honest answer? I feel like shit," I replied flatly, my gaze drifting to the figure looming just behind her. "And even shittier now that he's here."

My words were wrapped in bitterness as I glanced at Cole. His expression was unreadable—more perplexed than angry—but his silence made the tension in the room unbearable.

I didn't want to be a bitch, snapping at people like a cornered animal, but everything was unraveling inside me. Who wouldn't be like this after losing a billion dollars?

Lina chuckled lightly instead of taking offense, her smile was unshakable as ever. "At least you're feeling well enough to be sarcastic," she said with warmth in her voice.

Leave it to Lina to see the silver lining. Only someone raised in a loving, wealthy family could act like the world was still a beautiful place, even in the midst of chaos.

Her kindness felt like a mockery of everything I had never known—love, security, peace. For me, life had been about survival, clawing through the dirt just to make it another day.

I swallowed my anger, shifting my gaze to the window. "Now that you know I'm okay, you can go. I don't want visitors right now."

Lina's smile didn't falter. She turned to Sophie and said, "Looks like Eve might be hungry. Come with me, Sophie. Let's get her some sushi—she loves it."

I snapped my head toward her, eyes wide in disbelief. How was she still smiling? Why wasn't my anger shaking her? Was she immune to it?

Without missing a beat, Lina dragged the shocked Sophie out of the room, leaving me alone with Cole.

The nerve of her—even locking the door on her way out like she didn't want others to enter the room.

That woman. I swear I'll get her back for this once I can stand on my own two feet again.

I straightened myself, refusing to let my emotions take over in front of Cole. I grabbed some water, composing myself, then faced him with what little composure I had left.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice steadier than I expected.

Cole opened his mouth but hesitated, his jaw tightening as if the words were stuck in his throat.

He looked . . . unsure. It was the first time I'd ever seen him struggle with words.

Instead of answering, he handed me a large box. "Here," he said quietly.

I eyed him suspiciously before opening the box. Inside, dozens of cream puffs were nestled together, their golden shells glistening under the light.

"You like them, don't you?" His voice was so gentle that it almost broke me.

The sound of it—the softness, the familiarity—made my throat tighten painfully, and I fought to keep the tears at bay.

What was he doing? Pitying me because I was lying in a hospital bed?

This wasn't the Cole I knew. I didn't know how to deal with him like this—compassionate, almost tender.

I wanted him cold, indifferent, and completely out of my life. The thought coursed through me like a bitter poison, seeping into every corner of my heart.

It was time to reclaim my heart, even if it meant tearing away the last threads that connected us.

I glanced at the cream puffs in my hand and then back at him. His gaze had softened, no longer the cold, detached stare I was used to. His eyes . . . they were melting into something unrecognizable. And I couldn't bear it. I couldn't look at him any longer.

"These cream puffs . . ." My voice cracked as I stared at the dessert in my palm. "Do you even remember why I love them in the first place?" I asked, a bitter smile tugging at my lips.

Cole looked confused, his brows knitting together.

I let out a hollow laugh, the memory rushing back like a tidal wave. "Of course you don't."