Reborn Through The Ashes

Chapter three

The silence at the table stretched unbearably after Nathan’s phone buzzed. Lydia leaned over to catch a glimpse of the screen, but he pulled it away before she could see anything, his jaw tightening in a way Hannah recognized all too well.

“Who sent that?” Lydia asked, her voice sharper now, less soft than before.

“I don’t know,” Nathan muttered, pushing his chair back from the table. “Probably some prank. Wrong number.” But his hands weren’t steady as he slid the phone into his pocket, and Hannah noticed.

She said nothing, only watched. In her old life, she never would have caught the lie hiding underneath his voice. She had been too blind, too eager to believe the best of him. But now she knew him, every crack in his composure, every tell he wore without realizing it, every small hesitation that meant he was hiding something.

Someone already knows, she thought, her mind racing. Someone from before, or someone new. Either way, this life is not going to unfold the same way.

Nathan excused himself from the table, phone clutched tightly in his hand, and disappeared down the hallway toward the study. Lydia watched him go, worry flickering across her face for just a moment before she caught herself and turned back to Hannah with a practiced smile.

“Men,” she said lightly, waving a hand as if to brush the tension away. “Always so dramatic about work.”

Hannah really studied her in a way she never had before, not once during the three years she’d spent trusting this woman with her whole heart. Lydia’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. There was something calculating underneath it, something Hannah had missed the first time around, something that had cost her everything.

“Lydia,” Hannah said slowly, keeping her tone casual, testing the waters the way she’d learned to do in another lifetime, “were you and Nathan close? Before all of this, I mean. Before the two of us started dating.”

Lydia’s smile faltered, just barely, just enough. “What do you mean?”

“I mean before the wedding. Before any of this.” Hannah shrugged, feigning idle curiosity. “I feel like I don’t actually know much about how you two first met. You’ve never told me the full story.”

“We’ve been over this,” Lydia said, a touch too quickly, her fingers tightening around the dish towel in her hands. “He’s my best friend’s brother. That’s how we met. That’s it. Nothing more.”

A lie, Hannah thought, the realization settling into her chest like a cold stone sinking to the bottom of a lake. She had heard that same explanation a hundred times over the years and had never once questioned it. Now, knowing what she knew, it sounded rehearsed. Practiced. Something Lydia had said so many times she’d started to believe it herself.

Before Hannah could push further, footsteps echoed down the hallway. Nathan reappeared, his expression schooled back into something calm and unreadable, though his eyes remained distant, distracted by whatever message had rattled him.

“Everything okay?” Lydia asked, turning to him, her voice light again, the mask sliding back into place.

“Fine,” Nathan said. “Just work stuff.” He looked over at Hannah, and something in his gaze softened, warmed, the way it always used to before he broke her heart in ways she hadn’t even understood until it was far too late. “Actually, Han, can I talk to you? Alone, if that’s okay.”

Lydia’s eyes flicked between the two of them, something unreadable passing behind her gaze, but she said nothing. She simply gathered the breakfast plates from the table and retreated toward the kitchen, though Hannah caught her glancing back once before disappearing through the doorway.

Nathan led Hannah into the living room, the same living room where, in her old life, this exact scene had once played out. Her stomach twisted painfully with the memory of what had come next that day, all those years ago, before everything had gone wrong.

He reached into his pocket, and Hannah’s breath caught in her throat.

No. Not again. Not this time.

He knelt down in front of her, the way he had once knelt before, pulling a small velvet box from his jacket pocket with hands that trembled just slightly.

“Hannah,” he said, his voice thick with something that almost sounded like sincerity, almost like love. “I know this might feel sudden, but I’ve been thinking about this for weeks now. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, however long that turns out to be. Will you marry me?”

The last time he had asked her this exact question, in this exact room, she had said yes without a single moment of hesitation. She had believed every word that fell from his mouth, believed that the ring glinting between his fingers meant forever, meant safety, meant that this man would never, ever leave her behind to burn alone in a wreck of twisted metal and flame.

She knew better now. She had died believing his promises. She would not make that mistake twice.

Hannah looked down at him, at the ring, at the man who would one day choose someone else while she screamed his name into an empty, rain-soaked night and felt nothing but a quiet, steady resolve settle over her.

“No,” she said quietly.

Nathan blinked, his easy smile freezing in place, cracking at the edges. “What?”

“I said no.” Her voice was steady this time, stronger than she had ever managed to sound in three long years of marriage to this man. “I won’t marry you, Nathan. Not now. Not ever.”

The color drained slowly from his face, his mouth opening and closing without any words coming out. Behind them, somewhere in the kitchen, a plate shattered against the floor.

Lydia had been listening at the door the entire time.

Nathan slowly rose to his feet, the ring box still open in his trembling hand, the diamond catching the morning light in a way that once would have made Hannah’s heart soar. Now it only made her feel sick.

“Hannah, I don’t understand,” he said, his voice rising, confusion bleeding into something sharper underneath. “You don’t mean that. This isn't what we planned. This is what we talked about for months.”

“It’s over,” Hannah cut in, her voice firm despite the way her hands shook at her sides. “Before it even started, Nathan. I’m done.”

His expression shifted then, the confusion melting away into something colder, something Hannah had never once witnessed from him in all their years together — not even in the final moments before the crash, not even as he’d carried Lydia away and left her to the flames.

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” he said, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous whisper as he stepped closer, close enough that she could feel his breath against her skin. “You have no idea what you just walked away from.”

Hannah’s heart pounded violently against her ribs, but she forced herself to hold his gaze, refusing to look away, refusing to be the frightened, naive girl she once was.

“And you,” Nathan continued, his voice barely audible now, “have no idea what’s coming for you next.”

Behind him, unnoticed by either of them, Lydia stood frozen in the kitchen doorway, a shattered plate scattered in pieces at her feet, her phone pressed tightly against her ear, her face drained of all color.

“They found her,” Lydia whispered into the receiver, her voice trembling. “She remembers. She’s not supposed to remember any of this.”

There was a pause, and whatever the voice on the other end said made Lydia’s hand fly to her mouth, her eyes wide with fear as she stared through the doorway at Hannah’s back.

“What do you mean it’s already too late?” she breathed