Chapter 2: Someone I Used to Know

I met Blake Morgan again on a weekday afternoon.

It wasn’t dramatic like in a movie drama. There is no rain. No sudden music. Just a scheduled meeting room at the Caspian Group building, where my parents had brought me along under the excuse of “family exposure.”

I knew he would be there.

Blake’s family had been one of our longest partners. In my previous life, this meeting marked the beginning of everything I ruined.

This time, I was already bracing myself.

When he walked in, I almost didn’t recognize him.

Not because his face had changed, but because his presence had.

Blake had grown taller. Broader. His black hair was neatly styled, his suit tailored perfectly to his frame. He looked like someone who belonged in this world of contracts and negotiations.

Someone so accomplished.

But it was his eyes that made my fingers curl into my palm. They were calm, clearer, and empty of the warmth I remembered.

He looked at my parents first, greeting them politely. His voice was steady and professional. Then his gaze shifted to me.

There was no hesitation. No surprise. Only acknowledgment.

“Abel,” he said. “It’s been a while.”

Yeah, it's been two years.

To me, it had only been time.

To him, it had been a lifetime.

I forced myself to smile. “Welcome back.”

That was all I managed to deliver.

We didn’t sit next to each other. Blake chose the seat across the table, creating a distance that felt deliberate. When I spoke, he listened. When I stayed quiet, he didn’t fill the silence like he used to.

He didn’t tease me. He didn’t glance my way for reassurance. He didn’t reach out unconsciously, as if my presence grounded him.

It was like watching a stranger wearing Blake’s face.

At one point, my mother excused herself to take a call. My father followed shortly after.

The room fell silent.

In my past life, Blake would have spoken first. He would have asked how I’d been, if I was eating properly, if university was exhausting me again.

This time, he simply closed the folder in front of him and stood.

“I should head out,” he said. “There’s another meeting scheduled.”

I panicked. There’s something twisted sharply in my chest.

“I heard you just returned from abroad,” I said quickly. “Congratulations… on becoming the manager.”

Blake paused.

For the first time since he entered the room, he looked at me properly.

“Thank you,” he replied. “I’m just doing my job.”

That was when I knew. Blake remembered everything.

The way he kept his distance wasn’t confusion. It wasn’t indifference. It was a choice.

“I’m glad you’re doing well,” I said.

I meant it. I really do.

He nodded once. “I hope you are too.”

He left without another word. I stayed seated long after the door closed. My hands were trembling from something I couldn't understand.

This was worse than anger. Worse than accusation. Blake hadn’t come back to confront me or demand answers.

He had come back having already decided to stay away from me.

Later that night, I found my phone vibrating on my desk. A message from an unfamiliar number came in.

Blake Morgan:

Please don’t misunderstand. I’m not avoiding you. I just think it’s better for us to keep some distance.

...I stared at the screen until my vision blurred.

In my previous life, Blake loved me loudly. Desperately. Without reserve.

In this one, he loved me carefully. Or maybe he no longer loved me at all.

I typed a reply.

Then erased it.

Then typed again.

Abel Caspian: I understand. Take care.

The message sent.

A single sentence. With no apologies. No explanations. No requests.

Because this time, I refused to hurt him again by being selfish.

I placed the phone face down on the table.

Outside my window, the city lights glowed quietly, indifferent to my regret. And for the first time since my regression, I accepted a painful truth.

Redemption would not be granted just because I wanted it.

I would have to earn it. Slowly and silently.

Even if the ending no longer included me.

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