The piano had always been her escape. It was where she had lost herself. And now, it was where I was losing her. I watched from the corner of the café, my heart pounding in a way it shouldn't have, in a way I had no right to feel.

Amelia's fingers moved effortlessly over the keys, the soft melody filling the room like a bittersweet memory. She played for herself. For the child growing inside her. For the woman she was before she fell in love with a man who had never truly been hers.

And then— He walked in. Michael. I felt it before I saw him. The shift in the air. The way Amelia's body stiffened slightly, as if something deep inside her recognized him before her mind could even process it.

And then, as if sensing something, her eyes lifted. And she saw him. Her fingers froze. Her breath hitched. For the first time since we had escaped, I saw something close to fear in her eyes.

She was already preparing to run. No. No. This isn't how it's supposed to happen. Michael moved before I could. He shoved through the tables, his eyes locked on Amelia with an intensity that made my stomach churn.

"Amelia!"

She bolted. I cursed, jumping up from my seat, my legs moving on instinct. Not this time. Not like this. I chased after her, my heart hammering.

She pushed open the back door of the café, disappearing into the alleyway. I sprinted after her, but Michael was faster. Too fast.

He caught her wrist just as she turned the corner.

"Let me go," she whispered, her voice shaking.

Michael tightened his hold, his entire body trembling. "Not until you listen to me."

I skidded to a stop just a few feet away, my hands curling into fists. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. This wasn't how I was supposed to lose her.

For a long moment, they just stood there. Chest to chest. Eyes locked. Michael's voice was hoarse, raw with something I had never heard before. Regret. Desperation. And I knew, he meant it.

"Amelia," he whispered. "I was a fool."

I sucked in a breath, watching Amelia's fingers shake at her sides.

She squeezed her eyes shut. "Michael—"

"No," he cut her off. "Let me say this. I need you to hear it."

She didn't move. So he spoke.

"I was blind. I was selfish. I hurt you in ways I can never take back. And I will regret it for the rest of my life."

I clenched my jaw. Don't fall for it, Amelia.

"And Saddie?" His voice hardened. "I need you to know the truth."

Amelia stiffened. Michael took a breath.

"Saddie's child is not mine."

Silence.

Pure, stunned silence.

Amelia's head snapped up, her lips parting.

"What?"

Michael nodded.

"When she left years ago, it was for another man." His voice was steady now, firm. "She moved on. She married him. She got pregnant with his child."

I watched Amelia freeze, her entire world shifting before my eyes. Michael continued, his voice softer now.

"She came back because he was hurting her. Because she had no one else. And I... I was trying to help."

I swallowed hard. I knew this. I had always known this. And yet, I felt helpless watching Amelia process it for the first time. The way she trembled. The way her breaths came in shallow, uneven gasps. She had spent months believing she had been second. That she had never been enough. That she had lost him to a woman he would always love more.

And now— Now, the truth shattered her.

"You never told me," she whispered.

Michael's throat tightened.

"I didn't know how." His voice was strained. "I didn't realize what I was doing to you. And I have no excuse for that."

She turned away. I stepped forward, instinct screaming at me to do something. But I was too late. Because Michael was already dropping to his knees.

"Please," he whispered, looking up at her.

Her breath hitched. His voice was raw. Desperate.

"Come back with me, Amelia."

She shook her head. "Michael, I can't—"

"You can."

And then— His hands reached for her stomach. My stomach dropped. Amelia stiffened. Michael looked up at her, eyes filled with something that terrified me.

Love. Regret. Hope.

"I will spend the rest of my life making up for what I've done," he swore. "For you. For our child." His voice broke. "I swear it, Amelia."

A tear slipped down her cheek. Michael's fingers brushed against her stomach, tentative, careful. She didn't stop him. She just cried.

And then— For the first time since she left, she let herself believe. She collapsed against him, sobbing quietly. And Michael held her. Held her like he never wanted to let go again. Because this time—He wouldn't.

I stood there, watching it all unfold. Watching her slip right through my fingers. I should have been happy. I should have been relieved that she was finally getting the love she deserved.

But all I felt was terror. Because the story was continuing. Exactly as it had been written. And I still didn't remember how Amelia died.

I tried to recall it—tried to reach into the memories of the novel, tried to remember if Michael had truly saved her. But it was blank. A missing piece. I didn't know what would happen next.

And for the first time, I realized something awful. I had no idea if I was actually saving her— Or if I was leading her straight to her death.

I took a step back. Then another. Because if the story was continuing— If I was just another pawn in fate's cruel game— Then Amelia might still die.

And I might still be too late to stop it.