Chapter 2: Letting Go

2

A few months later,

The leaves had changed—flaming gold and red, the kind you only see in Midwest Octobers. I wore a new dress, the kind my mother would have called grown-up, and tried to keep my hands from shaking as I entered the country club for a pre-wedding dinner party.

The chandeliers sparkled overhead, casting gold flecks across the white linen tablecloths. Waiters in crisp black vests glided by with trays of shrimp cocktail and mini cheesecakes. The room hummed with laughter and the faint melody of a jazz quartet tucked in the corner.

I saw Caleb again at a pre-wedding dinner party.

There he was, standing beneath the crystal chandelier, surrounded by a swirl of guests. The room buzzed with laughter and jazz standards played by a live quartet in the corner, but my gaze locked on him like I was seventeen all over again.

I stood quietly in a corner, watching him enter, surrounded by admirers like he was some kind of celebrity.

The local news anchor cornered him for a quote; a pair of giggling sorority girls tried to flirt. He smiled, gracious as ever, every inch the golden boy. I melted into the wallpaper, clutching my glass of punch.

He was even more impressive than in the last life.

His posture was straighter, his jaw sharper, his eyes older. There was something about the way he carried himself—a new layer of confidence, the weight of ambition and secrets both.

Dressed in a pale gray tailored suit, tall and lean, with sharp eyes and a quiet confidence—

He looked like someone you’d see on the cover of Time: hands in his pockets, tie perfectly knotted, gaze fixed somewhere just out of reach.

He looked young but carried himself with a depth that made every girl in the room blush.

You could feel it—the hush when he walked by, the way conversations stalled as people tried to catch his eye. Even the older women fanned themselves, murmuring about how he’d grown up so well.

My heart skipped a beat.

I hated myself for it, but it happened anyway. Old habits die hard. I took a deep breath, trying to steady the flutter inside my chest.

Without thinking, I took two steps toward him.

My heels clicked on the marble, my dress swished. I felt naked under the chandeliers, but I couldn’t help it. I just wanted to see him up close, one more time.

Caleb seemed to sense something and looked up at me.

For a second, our eyes met across the crowd. It was like the rest of the room melted away—just us, suspended in a memory only we shared.

The next moment, a girl in a pink dress darted to his side, breaking his gaze.

The spell snapped. My cheeks flushed as reality crashed back in, harsh and bright.

“Caleb, you’re wearing the tie I picked out for you!”

Her voice was all sugar and sunshine, echoing across the room. She tugged at his sleeve, making sure everyone saw.

I snapped back to reality.

I took a step back, suddenly aware of how silly I must look—pining for a boy who’d clearly moved on. I straightened my shoulders, forced a polite smile.

The governor’s youngest daughter, Madison, clung to Caleb’s arm, making her claim obvious.

Her hair was perfect, her smile rehearsed. She looked like she belonged on the cover of Southern Living, all pearls and pastel.

The always-cool Caleb actually let her hang on, showing no sign of discomfort.

He didn’t brush her off, didn’t protest. He just let it happen, playing his role perfectly.

After a few rounds of drinks,

The party grew louder, people started to dance. I kept my distance, swirling my glass and pretending to enjoy the chatter around me.

A snappy voice cut through the noise near the dessert table: "She’s still single? Poor thing. Maybe she’s waiting for a miracle—or a billionaire."

A maid came to fetch me, saying Madison wanted to talk art with me.

She whispered it in my ear, and suddenly the room felt ten degrees colder. I had no choice but to follow—after all, you don’t turn down a governor’s daughter.

With the governor’s daughter’s request, I couldn’t refuse.

I pasted on a polite smile, excused myself from the group, and followed the maid down a long, twisting hallway, past rooms that smelled of lemon polish and old books.

I followed the maid through winding halls to a stone garden by the lake.

The air was cool and damp, the grass still slick from last night’s rain. The lake stretched out, silver and silent, a perfect backdrop for secrets.

Madison cornered me by the water, her voice dropping to a hiss, her nails digging into my arm as she leaned in. "You really are pathetic, Natalie. Everyone knows you’re obsessed with him. Don’t embarrass yourself again."

I protested, "You’re mistaken, I’m already engaged—"

I tried to keep my voice steady, but it cracked at the edges. I wanted to scream, to run, but her grip was unyielding.

Before I could finish, Madison cut me off:

She leaned in, her breath hot on my cheek. “Save it. We all know the truth.”

“You’re like a stalker, always watching Caleb and even slipping him little gifts.”

She punctuated the accusation by flinging a torn sachet at my feet. My heart stopped.

A torn sachet was thrown at my feet.

It landed in a soggy heap, the embroidery barely visible through the dirt and tears. I recognized it instantly—the little dogwood I’d stitched myself, years ago, before everything fell apart.

The dogwood embroidery was barely visible now.

It was faded and frayed, a relic of a love that used to mean everything. My hands shook as I stared down at it.

That was the sachet I’d used years ago to send Caleb money. How did it end up with Madison?

Had he just handed it over? Tossed it aside like it meant nothing? My breath hitched in my throat.

Madison answered my silent question:

She smirked, her eyes glinting. “Caleb said you’re obsessed with him, turning down every other guy for his sake, and you’ve been a pain in his neck.”

She let that hang in the air, savoring the moment. I wanted to scream that she was wrong, that she didn’t know the half of it.

“He’s too polite to shut you down himself, so he asked me to handle it.”

Her voice turned cruel. “He’s moved on, Natalie. You should too.”

I felt like I’d been punched in the gut, staring in disbelief at the shredded sachet.

I doubled over, breathless, the world spinning. It couldn’t be true—he wouldn’t be that cruel. Not Caleb.

I couldn’t understand.

Everything I thought I knew about him crumbled. Was it all a lie?

Even if we had no future in this life, did the decades we spent together before mean nothing?

Did it all just vanish—our Sunday mornings, our whispered promises, our years together? My heart felt like it was breaking all over again.

If Caleb had told me sooner, I would never have reached out again.

I would’ve let go, left him alone, started over. Why didn’t he just say the word?

Why did he take my money, yet try every way to get rid of me?

It didn’t make sense. If he hated me so much, why accept my help? Why keep up the charade?

Madison savored my shock.

She waited, soaking in every second of my misery. The garden air pressed in close, thick with humiliation.

Until a maid announced that Caleb had arrived.

The air shifted, tension crackling. Everyone straightened, as if a judge had entered the room.

Her eyes lit up, as if she’d thought of something clever. She said to me:

Madison’s smile sharpened, wicked. “Today, I’ll make sure you give up for good, so you’ll never bother him again.”

The familiar sound of footsteps approached behind me.

My heart thundered. I wanted to disappear, to sink into the stones and never be seen again.

Madison called out loudly, “Caleb, help me!”

Her voice rang out, shrill and desperate. She grabbed my arm with icy fingers.

As she spoke, she yanked me into the lake with her.

We tumbled together, the world spinning, my lungs seizing as the freezing water closed over my head.

I was instantly underwater, my mind going blank.

The shock was electric—cold, paralyzing, all-consuming. I kicked and flailed, panic clawing up my throat.

Lake water filled my lungs, squeezing my chest.

I coughed, sputtered, desperate for air. My limbs felt like lead. The sound of Madison’s cries blurred into nothing.

Suddenly, I remembered the year my mom died, when a jealous classmate pushed me into the river at summer camp.

The terror was the same. Water closing over my head, the world shrinking to a single point of pain and fear.

The freezing water gnawed at my will.

I fought the urge to give up, remembering my mother’s voice, the feel of her hand on my cheek.

In despair, I saw Caleb dive in.

A dark shape, slicing through the water with practiced ease. For a moment, hope flared.

He knew I couldn’t swim, knew I was terrified of water.

He’d held me through every nightmare, soothed my fear with gentle words. He’d promised to always keep me safe.

A flicker of hope flared in my heart, but I watched as he swam straight for Madison, without hesitation.

My chest burned, not just from the water but from the betrayal. I clawed for the surface, desperate for air, desperate for him to look back just once.

Madison flailed, pretending I’d pushed her. Her maids watched from the shore, not worried at all.

It was a performance—one they’d all rehearsed. I saw the calculation in their eyes, the boredom. No one seemed worried about me.

Such a lame act—Caleb, who’d lived two lives, how could he possibly fall for it?

He’d always seen through her before. Why not now?

But he did.

His face was tight with worry, his movements frantic. It didn’t look like a show.

His panicked face didn’t look fake.

He cradled Madison like she was made of glass, checking her pulse, shouting for towels.

Suddenly, I remembered my last life.

Back then, it had been different—he’d always chosen me. Now, the past felt as fragile as the dogwood petals floating on the water.

The third year after Caleb and I married, Madison publicly declared her love for him.

She’d done it at a charity gala—tears, drama, the works. It was a scandal that rocked the town for months.

The governor, unable to say no to his youngest, hinted that Caleb should divorce me and marry Madison.

It had been the talk of every bridge club and barber shop in the county. People took sides, but Caleb never wavered.

Back then, Caleb flatly refused, even willing to resign from his post.

He’d thrown his badge on the desk, told the governor he’d rather lose everything than lose me. I’d never loved him more.

The governor had no choice but to drop it.

Politics, power, money—they all faded in the face of real love. Or so I’d thought.

Caleb avoided Madison as much as possible.

He’d cross the street to avoid her, duck out of parties early. It was almost comical, if it hadn’t been so sad.

I once teased him, “Do you really not like Madison? She’s beautiful and charming.”

He’d snorted, shaking his head. “I couldn’t handle a girl like that. Too much drama.”

Caleb laughed: “I couldn’t handle a girl like that.”

His eyes would soften, and he’d squeeze my hand. “You’re the only drama I need, Natalie.”

The next year, Madison was sent away in a political marriage.

She left town in a whirlwind of press coverage and rumors. The governor didn’t even attend the wedding.

A few years later, she died tragically, her body covered in bruises.

The news hit the front page—scandal, whispers, hushed conversations at Sunday brunch. People acted shocked, but I knew the truth. Madison had never been strong enough for the world she’d been forced into.

Once, Caleb murmured in his sleep:

“If I’d married you, you wouldn’t have had to go through that. It’s all my fault, I let you down…”

I’d pretended not to hear, but the words haunted me. Maybe he’d carried that guilt all along.

After waking, he never mentioned it again.

He’d make coffee, read the paper, act like nothing happened. But the shadow lingered.

I thought it was just guilt, a bad dream.

Now, I see, it was more than that.

My body kept sinking.

The world faded, blue and cold. My lungs burned. I closed my eyes, ready to let go.

I saw Caleb carefully cradle Madison and bring her ashore.

He didn’t glance back, didn’t hesitate. I was invisible—just a ghost in their story.

From start to finish, he never once looked at me.

The pain was sharper than the cold. It cut through every memory we’d ever made.

My limbs grew heavy, my will to live slipping away…

I let myself drift, the darkness pulling me under. Maybe it was better this way.

At that moment, a dark figure—swift as a falling star—leapt into the water.

A flash of movement, strong arms wrapping around me, pulling me up, up, into the light.

3

When I woke up, I was back at the Harrison house.

Sunlight filtered through gauzy curtains. My head throbbed, but I was alive. The familiar scent of cedar and laundry soap told me I was home.

Dad paced the length of my bedroom, his hands shoved deep in his jeans pockets, jaw working like he was chewing on every mistake he’d ever made. His face was stormy with anger as he urged me to take my medicine.

I calmed him, telling him not to worry.

I squeezed his hand, tried to smile. "It’s okay, Dad. I’m fine."

After all, Madison had already been punished.

Even in Maple Heights, you couldn’t get away with nearly drowning someone, not when half the town saw you dragged out of the lake.

My dad had never remarried, afraid I’d be mistreated by a stepmom.

He’d told me more than once: “No woman could ever take your mother’s place.” I think he was as scared of change as I was.

Yet, somehow, in a moment of carelessness, I was bullied by Madison herself.

He looked at me, guilt burning in his eyes, as if he’d failed to protect me. “I should’ve seen it coming, Natalie.”

He stood in the living room, demanding justice for me.

I heard his voice echoing down the hall—firm, righteous, unwilling to back down. The whole house seemed to vibrate with his anger.

The governor’s face was stone-cold.

He stood by the fireplace, arms crossed, a mask of power and regret. I could tell he hated being there, hated being forced to answer for his daughter.

But no matter how much he spoiled his youngest, he couldn’t ignore such a scandal.

Even the most powerful men had to answer to the town council, to the whispers of the country club. Madison’s actions couldn’t be swept under the rug.

Madison was punished with community service and ordered to come to my house to apologize in person.

The papers called it “restorative justice.” She was seen picking up trash at the local park, her perfect nails ruined by the work. I almost felt sorry for her—almost.

But though I’d been awake for several days, she still hadn’t come.

Her pride was legendary, and I doubted she’d ever humble herself enough to knock on our door.

Given her pride, she probably never would.

I let it go. Some people never change.

I didn’t care.

I had bigger wounds to tend. Madison’s apology meant nothing to me now.

But someone unexpected sent a visiting card.

The envelope was cream-colored, embossed with elegant script. It sat on my nightstand, unopened, as I tried to imagine why he’d reach out now.

I was curious—why would Caleb, who’d always avoided me, come to visit now? So I let him in.

I put on a fresh sweater, brushed my hair, and waited on the porch. My hands trembled, but I was determined not to let him see me flinch.

Caleb stood in the front yard, gazing at me from a distance, never stepping inside.

He kept his hands in his pockets, the dogwood trees blooming behind him. His eyes were careful, his mouth set in a polite, unreadable line.

His quiet confidence blended with the blooming dogwoods—a real picture of spring.

He looked like he belonged in a magazine—cool, collected, untouchable. The breeze rustled his jacket, scattering petals at his feet.

He looked at me, and for a split second, the boy I used to know flickered in his eyes—then vanished behind the mask.

"Natalie, I just wanted to come by and say I’m sorry for what happened with Madison."

His voice was low, measured, the kind you use when you want to keep everything at arm’s length.

“She’s still young and a bit spoiled, but she meant no harm.”

He delivered the words like a lawyer reciting a statement. No apology in his eyes, just the practiced detachment of someone used to damage control.

“All the maids on the shore that day could swim; there was no real danger…”

His gaze flickered to my bruised cheek, then away. The implication was clear—don’t make a scene, don’t draw this out.

Madison had just turned sixteen, five years younger than Caleb and me.

She was still a kid, still learning the rules of the world. But that didn’t make what she’d done any less cruel.

But his words rang hollow.

The apology was empty—a formality, a box checked off. I wanted to scream, to shake him and make him remember who we’d been.

Before he finished, I started coughing.

My chest seized, the pain sharp. I pressed a tissue to my mouth, blinking back tears. He hesitated, worry flickering across his face for a split second.

He looked at my pale face, his expression flickering for a moment.

He opened his mouth as if to say something else, but the words caught in his throat.

He quickly added, “Madison asked me to bring two doctors. They’ll arrive today.”

Always the fixer, always the politician. I wondered if he even remembered how to care about someone without an agenda.

Caleb was born with nothing, yet almost became senator or mayor. Though my dad helped him, most of his success was his own doing.

People still whispered about him at the grocery store. Some said he was destined for the White House. I used to believe it too.

He was always careful, measured, never giving anyone a reason to doubt him.

Every word was calculated, every move precise. He’d learned the art of survival the hard way.

If I argued, I’d seem petty and unreasonable.

It was a trap. If I pushed back, I’d be painted as ungrateful, unstable. So I bit my tongue and played along.

See? Now he was using that skill on me.

He’d learned well—how to smooth over scandal, how to keep his real feelings hidden. I wondered if he even knew what those feelings were anymore.

I just smiled. “It’s fine. Luckily, someone came to save me.”

My voice was light, but I watched him closely. I wanted to see if the mask would slip.

“It’s just, I never learned who he was. Could you tell me, Caleb?”

The question hung in the air. For a moment, something flickered in his eyes—anger? Jealousy? I couldn’t tell.

That shadow who saved me left right away—only those present knew who it was.

My rescuer had vanished into the night, no name, no thanks. It felt like another mystery layered atop all the old ones.

For some reason, Caleb’s expression darkened, and when he spoke again, his voice grew cold:

He straightened, jaw tight. "I didn’t save you right away that day for the sake of your reputation."

“I didn’t save you right away that day for the sake of your reputation.”

His voice was clipped, almost bitter. Like he was reminding himself more than me.

“To be honest, I’m already engaged to Madison.”

He said it flatly, a line drawn in the sand. I felt the old pain flare up, raw and sharp.

So, not saving me was to avoid suspicion.

Of course. Appearances were everything now. Better to let me drown than risk a rumor.

He’d made up his mind not to give me a chance.

I could see it in the set of his shoulders, the way he refused to look at me. He’d decided I was the past.

My fingers trembled a little. Even though I’d braced myself, hearing it from him still hurt.

I clenched my fists, digging my nails into my palms. The ache was familiar, but I wouldn’t let him see me cry.

But only for a moment.

I took a breath, steeled myself. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“You’re still single. That guy who saved you probably didn’t want his name out there for the same reason.”

He was already spinning the story, covering all the bases. He thought I’d cling to anyone who showed me kindness.

He spoke as if, whoever saved me, I’d latch onto them.

He saw me as desperate, pathetic. It stung, but I let it roll off me.

He himself dreaded marrying me, so he thought others would too.

I almost laughed—he didn’t know me at all anymore.

Caleb seemed unaware that I’d come back, too.

He thought he held all the cards, that he was the only one with memories of a life before.

Everything I did before was only because I admired him.

He’d never understand how deep it went, how much I’d given up for him.

Seeing my silence, Caleb paused, his tone softening:

His voice was almost gentle. “Natalie, I hope you recover soon and find someone good.”

His gaze lingered, his words heavy with meaning.

I saw something flicker there—regret, maybe, or just relief. Either way, it was over.

I understood.

I nodded, swallowing the last of my pride. I’d gotten the message loud and clear.

He was telling me—

I could read the subtext as easily as I read his face. This was goodbye, once and for all.

In this life, don’t bother him again.

The words stung, but they also set me free. No more waiting, no more hoping for a second chance.

I let out a quiet laugh. “Thanks for your kind wishes, Caleb. Actually, I’ve already found someone.”

The lie rolled off my tongue, smooth as butter. My heart hammered—was this what freedom felt like?

As soon as I said it, a crack appeared in Caleb’s always-calm expression.

His eyes widened, his jaw tensed. He looked at me—really looked at me—for the first time in years. It was small, but it was enough. I turned away, a quiet victory blooming in my chest.

For the first time in years, he looked afraid to lose me. And for the first time, I wasn’t sure I cared.