Chapter 5: The Substitute's Lament

I’d always believed love was about the soul, not the body. I wanted to prove it—to myself, to the world, to the angel. I had to believe it.

Lily was my Autumn. Though she changed—her personality, her voice, her memories—none of that mattered. As long as she lived well by my side, what else could I ask for?

I bought her favorite flowers, cooked her favorite meals, learned sign language so we could talk. I did everything I could to make her feel safe.

I thought the angel’s test was simple. I loved Autumn to my core; nothing could change that. I cared for Lily: her introversion, her silence, her insecurity—I gave her all the security I could. She forgot our past? We made new memories. She became someone else? I loved her new soul.

I filled our apartment with laughter, even if it was mostly my own. I told her stories, made her smile. I thought it was enough. Maybe it never was.

Everyone thought Lily was a substitute. I laughed at their ignorance. No matter how much someone resembled Autumn, she was not her. If I found a lookalike after Autumn’s death, that would be disrespectful to everyone involved. I treated Lily gently because she was my Autumn.

Sometimes, I caught people whispering in the halls, but I ignored them. They didn’t know what it was like to lose the love of your life.

Five years passed smoothly. If we made it through the last 100 days, my Autumn would truly return.

I counted down the days, marking them off on a calendar hidden in my desk drawer. Each one brought me closer to hope—or heartbreak.

On the first day of those 100 days, I met Savannah Cole. She was proud and passionate, a burning flame—too dazzling. In front of everyone, she declared, “Ethan Maddox, I’m Savannah Cole, your future girlfriend.” I didn’t know what to say.

Her confidence threw me off. I’d never met anyone so direct, so unapologetically bold. It was both infuriating and strangely familiar. She reminded me of Autumn.

I found it ridiculous, even off-putting. I disliked her ambition, the way her gaze—bright as stars—fell solely on me. It reminded me of Autumn. There are some things you just can’t hide—like love. I hated her certainty that she would win me over.

I told myself to keep my distance, but she had a way of getting under my skin. Her persistence was almost admirable. I hated it. Maybe I liked it, too.

Was this the angel’s final test? If my girlfriend became someone else, would I still love her? Or would I fall for another soul so like Autumn’s?

The thought haunted me. I started to doubt my own heart, wondering if I was just chasing ghosts.

I grew more wary of Savannah. Her persistent pursuit annoyed me. When she confronted me—“Do you love Lily’s face, or the soul beneath it?”—I answered, “I love her soul. Her face doesn’t matter.”

The words felt true, but something in Savannah’s eyes made me uneasy. It was like she could see right through me. I didn’t like that.

She paled, then smiled: “Congratulations.”

Her smile was bittersweet, almost mournful. I wondered what secrets she was hiding.

The more I saw Autumn’s shadow in Savannah, the more unsettled I felt. I investigated her—she was just a spoiled rich girl. How could I think she was my Autumn? I was losing it.

I checked her background, called in favors. Everything checked out. But my gut told me there was more to her than met the eye.

After Lily became pregnant, I felt secure. Savannah seemed to give up and was leaving. I finally relaxed. I thought I’d passed the test. I should have known better.

I started planning for the future—nurseries, names, bedtime stories. For the first time in years, I let myself hope.

Until the last day, when Miles Bennett drove into Lily and Savannah pushed her away, sacrificing herself.

The world spun. I remember screaming her name, the sound tearing out of me like an animal. Blood everywhere, sirens in the distance. I’d failed to protect her—again. Not again.

How could I not hate? I remembered every drink he forced on Autumn. I spent five years destroying him. But now, I watched Savannah dying, blood on her lips, looking at me and Lily. She smiled, mouthing, “Be happy.” I couldn’t breathe.

That smile will haunt me forever. It was full of forgiveness, of letting go. I felt something in me break.

At that moment, Lily, mute for five years, spoke in the voice I knew best: “Ethan, I am Autumn. I’m back.” I didn’t believe it.

Her voice was soft, trembling. I didn’t know whether to believe her or not. All I could do was hold her, hoping for a miracle.