Her breath hitched. I watched her carefully, waiting for the moment her face would break into laughter, for her to tell me I was being ridiculous.

But she didn't. Because deep down, I knew— She had always felt it too. That strange, impossible pull between us. The way we met. The way I knew too much. The way I was too much for an eighteen-year-old maid who had appeared out of nowhere. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard.

"It was a story about you and Michael," I continued, forcing my voice to stay even. "And I thought—" I let out a shaky breath, my chest tightening. "I thought I could change it."

Amelia flinched. I ran a hand through my hair, forcing a smile that didn't reach my eyes.

"I tried. I got close to you. I stayed by your side. I interfered whenever I could." I let out a broken laugh. "But in the end, you still went back to him. The story didn't change."

She stared at me, her eyes glistening. "Why?"

I tensed. "What?"

She took a slow step closer. "Why did you want to change it?"

The real answer was one I couldn't say. I wouldn't say. So instead, I whispered, "Because I didn't want to see you in pain."

Her breath caught. I shook my head, my voice breaking, "Because you didn't deserve it. Because I—"

I stopped myself. Because I what? I didn't even know anymore. I had told myself I was here to save her. That was my mission. That was my purpose. But somewhere along the way, I had lost myself. Because now— Looking at her, standing there in front of me, begging me with her eyes to say something real— I realized I didn't want to leave. I didn't want to watch her build a life with another man. I didn't want to step aside like I was never here. I didn't want to be just a fleeting moment in her story.

So instead, I whispered, "Because I care about you, more than I can admit."

Her breath caught. "Who is the real you?"

"River," I said quietly, meeting her gaze. "That's my real name. Before all of this—before I woke up in this body—I was someone else. A guy. Living in a completely different world from yours."

I let out a slow breath, trying to find the right words. "I don't know how it happened, or why. One moment, I was in my world, living my life, and the next... I was here. In Lena's body. In your world. And somehow, I knew what was going to happen to you."

My throat tightened as I forced myself to continue. "I thought maybe it was a mistake. Or a dream. But then, I saw you. And I knew. I was here for a reason. To change something. To save you."

I searched her face, waiting for her to recoil, to tell me I was insane. But she didn't. She just stared at me, her breath unsteady.

Her eyes got wider. She didn't say anything. Didn't blink. Didn't breathe. She just looked at me. "River."

When she said my name, my real name—the name no one in this world should have known—something inside me unraveled.

A name that had been buried. A name I had forced myself to forget. A name I never thought I'd hear again. But she said it. And for the first time, I felt real. Not Lena. Not a maid. Not a stranger in someone else's life. Just me.

She took a step closer, her breath shaky. "River."

Hearing it again sent a chill down my spine. I wanted to run. I wanted to stay. I wanted to—

"Say something," she whispered, her voice cracking.

I clenched my fists, forcing myself to stay still. What was I supposed to say? That I wasn't meant to be here? That I had stolen this body, stolen this life? That I had spent every moment of my existence here trying to save her—only to watch her choose the same ending over and over again?

No. She wouldn't understand. She couldn't. I exhaled sharply, shaking my head. "It doesn't matter."

Her brows furrowed. "How can you say that?"

"Because it doesn't change anything, Amelia!" My voice rose, harsher than I meant for it to be. I saw her flinch, and I instantly hated myself for it.

I dragged a hand through my hair, trying to steady my breathing. "You're still going to be with him," I murmured, my voice weaker this time. "You're still going to live your life. And I'll still be nothing more than a mistake in the middle of your story."

She shook her head, her expression tightening. "You're not a mistake."

"You don't know that," I whispered.

Silence stretched between us. She was searching for something in my face—some kind of truth, some kind of answer. I looked away. Because if she kept looking at me like that— Like I was something important— I might not be able to walk away.

"Why did you come here?" she asked suddenly.

I blinked. "What?"

"You said you read about me. That I was in a novel. That you wanted to change the story." She took a small breath, her voice trembling. "Why?"

Why? Because I knew how it ended. Because I saw her die. Because she was never meant to survive. But I couldn't tell her that. If I did, she'd never stay away from Michael. She'd fight harder to change her fate.

And that's when I realized— I had no idea if I could stop it. What if she still died? What if all of this was for nothing?

I forced my voice to stay calm. "I told you. I didn't want you to be in pain."

Amelia frowned. That answer wasn't enough. She could feel it. She could sense it.

"River." She said my name again, softer this time.

I swallowed hard. "I wish I could explain everything," I admitted. "But I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because if I do," I exhaled, "you'll never let go."

Her lips parted, but no sound came out. And in that moment, I knew. She had felt it too. The unspoken pull. The impossible connection. She didn't say it. Didn't admit it. But she didn't deny it either. And I hated myself for letting it get this far.

I needed to leave. Now. Before she said something she couldn't take back. Before I did. I turned away, clenching my jaw. "Goodbye, Amelia."

Her hand shot out, grabbing my wrist. I stiffened.

"Lena—" She stopped herself, swallowing hard. "River."

My heart slammed against my ribs. I couldn't look at her. If I did, I wouldn't be able to walk away.

"Please," she whispered.

I exhaled sharply, forcing a smile I didn't feel. "You'll be fine, Amelia. You've got him now."

Her grip tightened.

"Is that what you really think?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

I swallowed down the ache in my throat. No. But I had to lie. I gently pried her fingers away, stepping back. "Goodbye, Amelia."

"You were real to me." The words hit harder than I expected. I felt my throat tighten, my heart slamming against my ribs.

No. No, no, no. She couldn't do this. She wasn't supposed to feel anything for me. Because this wasn't our story. She belonged to Michael. She was always supposed to belong to Michael. That's how it was written. That's how it was supposed to go.

So why—why was she looking at me like this? Why was she making it so damn hard to leave? I forced my body to move, to turn, to walk away before I did something stupid.

"Stay," she whispered, her voice so quiet, so broken, that I almost did. Almost. I clenched my jaw, shaking my head. "Amelia, you—"

And then— She kissed me. Soft. Slow. Desperate. A kiss that wasn't supposed to happen. A kiss that burned through every lie I had told myself. A kiss that ruined everything.

Because I kissed her back. Just for a second. Just for this moment. Because I knew—I would never have another.

Her hands fisted in the front of my shirt, her body pressing closer as if she could hold onto something that was never meant to be hers.

Or maybe—maybe I was the one holding onto her. I felt her tremble against me. Felt the way her fingers curled, like she was trying to memorize the shape of me, like she already knew I would be gone after this.

And for the first time, I wanted to break the rules. To tear apart the pages of this story and rewrite them from the beginning. To choose her. To let her choose me. But we weren't ours to choose. Not in this life. Not in this world. Not in this story. So I pulled away first.

Her lips parted, her breath shaky, her eyes searching mine for something—some kind of answer. But I didn't have one. Because I didn't know what the hell this meant. I didn't know who I was anymore. I didn't know what I wanted.

And I still I left. Because if I didn't— I would never be able to let her go. And I had to. Because suddenly I remembered now. I remembered how this story ended.

And I wasn't going to let it happen. I will save her.