The Past Returns
1432 Words
Chapter 19 — The Past Returns
For the first time in weeks, Jake woke up without anger sitting heavily in his chest.
The feeling unsettled him immediately.
He lay still in bed staring at the ceiling of his penthouse while early morning sunlight spilled across the room.
Calm.
Actual calm.
Strange.
Then he remembered the rooftop.
Amara dancing slowly with him beneath city lights.
Her hand in his.
The softness in her voice when she admitted she cared.
A dangerous warmth settled inside his chest.
Jake sat up slowly and rubbed a hand over his face.
This was exactly why emotional attachment terrified him.
Because suddenly another person carried the power to ruin him completely.
Still…
For once, that fear didn’t make him want to run.
His phone buzzed beside the bed.
Unknown number.
Jake almost ignored it before answering anyway.
“What?”
A familiar female voice responded quietly.
“Jake.”
Every muscle in his body went still instantly.
Teresa.
Silence swallowed the room.
Jake stood slowly from the bed.
“How did you get this number?”
“I still remembered it.”
Her voice sounded calmer than he expected.
Older somehow.
Stronger.
Jake walked toward the windows overlooking Cape Town’s coastline while tension crawled through him.
“What do you want?”
A pause.
Then:
“I saw the articles.”
Jake closed his eyes briefly.
Of course she did.
“They said you’re changing.”
The words felt sharp somehow.
Jake leaned one hand against the cold glass.
“I’m trying.”
Another silence followed.
Then Teresa quietly asked:
“Why now?”
The exact same question Amara asked.
Jake swallowed slowly.
“Because I finally hate who I became.”
The truth hung heavily between them.
Teresa’s voice softened slightly.
“You should’ve hated it sooner.”
He accepted that without argument.
“Yes.”
Silence again.
Jake’s chest tightened unexpectedly.
Guilt felt different hearing her voice again.
More real.
More personal.
“I owe you an apology,” he said quietly.
Teresa laughed softly without humor.
“You owe me years of peace.”
The words hit hard because they were true.
Jake lowered his gaze briefly.
“I know.”
For several seconds neither spoke.
Then Teresa surprised him.
“She talks to you differently than I did.”
Jake frowned slightly.
“What?”
“That woman.” Teresa paused. “Amara.”
His heart tightened unexpectedly hearing her name.
“You know about her?”
“The internet knows everything.” Teresa sighed softly. “She doesn’t sound afraid of you.”
Jake looked out across the city quietly.
“She shouldn’t be near me.”
“But she is.”
Silence.
Then Teresa’s voice lowered carefully.
“Don’t destroy her too.”
The words landed like a knife directly into his chest.
Because deep down—
That fear already haunted him constantly.
“I’m trying not to,” Jake whispered honestly.
Another pause followed.
Then Teresa spoke softly for the first time without anger.
“You know what hurt the most?”
Jake closed his eyes.
“What?”
“That sometimes after hurting me… you looked sorry.” Her voice cracked slightly. “And somehow that made it worse.”
Pain twisted sharply through him.
God.
Jake sat heavily against the edge of the window seat.
“I never wanted to become that man.”
“But you did.”
“Yes.”
Silence filled the space between them heavily.
Finally Teresa spoke again.
“I don’t hate you anymore.”
That shocked him.
“What?”
“I hated you for a long time.” Her voice sounded distant now. “But eventually I realized hate kept me tied to the worst part of my life.”
Jake stared quietly at the ocean beyond the city.
“You deserved better.”
“Yes,” she answered honestly.
The simplicity hurt most.
Jake rubbed his jaw slowly.
“I’m sorry, Teresa.”
This time he truly meant it.
Not defensive.
Not self-pitying.
Just remorse.
Teresa remained silent for a few seconds before responding quietly:
“Then become someone who never does it again.”
The call ended moments later.
Jake remained sitting there long afterward staring blankly ahead.
Her words echoed painfully inside him.
Don’t destroy her too.
Meanwhile, Amara spent the morning buried in work trying unsuccessfully to stop thinking about Jake.
Again.
It annoyed her how naturally her thoughts drifted toward him now.
Especially after the rooftop.
Especially after the almost-kiss.
Her phone buzzed beside the sketches.
Jake.
Amara stared at the screen for several seconds before answering.
“Hello?”
“I spoke to Teresa.”
Her entire body stilled immediately.
“What?”
Jake’s voice sounded quieter than usual.
“She called me this morning.”
Amara sat back slowly.
“How did it go?”
A long silence answered first.
Then:
“Painful.”
Something in his voice tightened her chest instantly.
“Are you okay?”
Jake laughed softly without humor.
“Probably not.”
Amara closed her sketchbook gently.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Another silence.
Then quietly:
“Yes.”
Thirty minutes later, Jake arrived at the studio.
The moment Amara saw him, she knew something shifted again.
He looked emotionally exhausted.
Not angry.
Not guarded.
Just tired in a way deeper than sleep could fix.
Veronica wisely disappeared the second Jake entered.
Smart woman.
Amara led him toward the quieter design room before turning toward him carefully.
“What happened?”
Jake leaned both hands against the table and stared down briefly.
“She forgave me.”
Amara blinked slightly.
“That’s… good, isn’t it?”
Jake shook his head slowly.
“No.”
Confused, Amara stepped closer.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t deserve it.”
The rawness in his voice hurt to hear.
Amara studied him quietly now.
Guilt consumed this man completely.
“She told me something,” Jake continued softly. “She said the worst part wasn’t even the violence.”
Amara’s chest tightened slightly.
Jake looked up finally.
“It was that afterward… I looked sorry.”
Silence filled the room heavily.
Amara slowly understood.
The cycle.
Harm.
Regret.
Affection.
Then repeated harm again.
God.
No wonder Teresa ran.
Jake laughed bitterly under his breath.
“I used remorse as permission to keep failing.”
The self-awareness in his voice sounded brutal.
Not protective.
Not defensive.
Brutal.
Amara walked closer carefully.
“But you stopped.”
Jake looked at her quietly.
“Yes.”
“And now you’re trying to change.”
“I’m trying because I’m terrified.”
That honesty again.
Always dangerous.
“What scares you?” she asked softly.
Jake’s eyes held hers.
“That one day I’ll hurt you too.”
The words landed heavily between them.
Amara’s heartbeat quickened slightly.
Not because she thought he would.
Because she knew he believed it.
“You’re not the same person you were with Teresa,” she whispered.
Jake immediately looked away.
“How can you possibly know that?”
“Because guilt changed you.”
Jake shook his head bitterly.
“Guilt alone doesn’t fix people.”
“No,” Amara agreed quietly. “But accountability starts there.”
Silence settled softly now.
Less painful than before.
Jake looked exhausted carrying all this shame alone.
Without fully thinking it through, Amara stepped closer and gently touched his hand.
Jake froze slightly.
The contact felt impossibly soft.
Careful.
Trusting.
His eyes lifted slowly toward hers.
“You shouldn’t trust me this easily,” he murmured.
Amara’s voice softened too.
“I don’t trust easily.” She held his gaze carefully. “I just see someone trying very hard not to become his worst mistake forever.”
Something inside Jake cracked painfully at those words.
Because nobody—not even himself—had ever separated him from his failures before.
And suddenly—
Without planning to—
Jake reached up carefully and touched her face.
Gentle.
So gentle it almost hurt.
Amara’s breath caught softly.
Neither looked away.
The tension between them deepened instantly.
Not reckless this time.
Tender.
Jake’s thumb brushed softly against her cheek.
“Amara…”
His voice sounded almost afraid now.
And somehow that vulnerability destroyed the last bit of distance between them.
Slowly—
Carefully—
Amara leaned closer first.
Jake’s breath stalled completely.
Then finally—
He kissed her.
Soft.
Tentative.
Like a man terrified of ruining something precious.
And for one impossible moment—
Neither of them remembered how dangerous this still was.
- Writer
