The Love that Kills me

Chapter 17

Months passed, and their relationship remained steady in that quiet, delicate balance. Hope didn’t ask for more—she didn’t want to push or break the fragile peace they had built. She told herself she was happy with this, that it was enough just to be seen by him. This was more than she had ever dreamed of having with Stephen.

But sometimes, late at night when she lay awake, she couldn’t stop the tiny flicker of hope in her chest. She wished that maybe, one day, Stephen would love her too.

For now, she told herself this was enough.

This week, they were on vacation, a rare and welcome break from everything else. Stephen had decided to spend a week in Bali, and Hope felt her heart soar at the idea of warm sun, blue skies, and the endless ocean. They spent their days together, breathing in the salty air and letting the rhythm of the waves wash away their worries.

They tried everything—surfing, snorkeling, paragliding, even zip-lining through the jungle. Hope laughed more than she had in years, her cheeks flushed with sun and excitement. She felt lighter here, like she could leave behind all the heavy things that weighed on her heart.

She had grown more comfortable around Stephen, too. She found herself able to talk to him more easily, to smile at him without that shy nervousness that always used to tangle up her words.

“Stephen, let’s try this one later,” she said, pointing to a new activity listed on a signboard.

“Yeah, sure,” he replied with a small smile. “Let’s just rest for a while first.”

They lay side by side on sun loungers, the warm sun on their skin, the scent of salt and coconut in the air. They watched the waves roll in and out, a soothing rhythm that felt almost like breathing.

They even went scuba diving one afternoon. Hope was amazed by the bright colors of the coral and the schools of fish that darted around them. She felt like a child again, wide-eyed and full of wonder. Stephen watched her with a gentle amusement, his lips quirking up at the way she would gasp in delight every time she saw something new.

They ate everything they could find—fresh seafood, tropical fruits, and local specialties. At night, they would sit on the beach under the stars, the warm breeze wrapping around them like a soft blanket. Hope would rest her head on Stephen’s shoulder, listening to the waves and feeling like, just for now, everything was okay.

When it was finally time to leave, Hope felt a little pang of sadness in her chest. She didn’t want this week to end. She bought souvenirs for Crissa, who had stayed behind to look after the shop. Crissa had been nagging her constantly over text, half-joking that Hope owed her big time for leaving her alone.

“Ready?” Stephen asked as they gathered their bags, his voice warm and calm.

“Yeah,” Hope said with a small smile. “Let’s go.”

They walked hand in hand through the small airport, their steps slow and unhurried. Hope felt a strange mix of sadness and contentment—sad to leave, but grateful for the memories they had made.

As they waited for their flight, Hope glanced around the crowded terminal. That was when she saw her.

Or thought she did.

A familiar figure—long hair, an elegant stance, a flash of a knowing smile. For a moment, Hope’s breath caught in her throat. Her heart started pounding so hard she thought it might burst out of her chest.

Daia? It couldn’t be. She blinked, and the woman was gone, vanished in the blink of an eye.

She tried to calm herself, to tell herself she was imagining things. It’s not her. It’s just someone who looked like her. She’s not here.

But the fear had already settled into her bones.

“You okay?” Stephen asked, his brow furrowed with concern as he noticed how pale she had gone.

She forced a smile, brushing it off as best she could. “I’m fine,” she said quickly. “I just thought I saw someone… someone who looked familiar. But it wasn’t her. Just… an illusion, I guess.”

Stephen looked at her for a long moment, like he wanted to press further, but he didn’t. Instead, he reached out and squeezed her hand gently.

The announcement for their flight crackled through the speakers then, a welcome distraction from the icy fear in Hope’s chest.

“That’s us,” Stephen said softly. “Ready?”

Hope nodded, her fingers tightening around his hand. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

As they walked toward the gate, Hope forced herself to focus on Stephen’s steady presence beside her, on the warmth of his hand in hers. She tried to leave that flash of a memory—real or imagined—behind her, buried in the crowded airport.

She had Stephen now. And for now, that was enough.