Our Second Forever

Chapter 7

Elijah’s POV

This town didn’t feel like home.

It was too quiet. Too peaceful. Nothing like the city I grew up in. But maybe that was a good thing. I came here for business. Not memories. Not the past. And definitely not her.

But I couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Her face haunted me since the moment I walked into that bakery. I told myself I didn’t care anymore. That I was over her. That what she did to me and my family had changed everything.

But the truth is, I wasn’t over her. Not really. Seeing her again made something in my chest twist in a way I hadn’t felt in years.

And then there was the little girl.

She looked so much like me when I was a kid. Same eyes. Same serious face. And when she smiled, I swear I saw my mother’s dimple.

I tried to shake it off. Tried to believe it was just in my head. But I couldn’t. Because deep down, something told me the truth.

I just didn’t want to hear it.

I sat in the hotel lobby, staring at my phone. I should’ve been answering emails or calling my assistant. I had meetings lined up, a real estate deal in the works. Maya was upstairs getting ready for dinner with some investor friends. Everything should’ve been normal.

But nothing felt normal since I came to this town.

I scrolled through the photos on my phone. Not of business or meetings. But of Sophie. I had snapped a photo when she stepped out of the bakery. I told myself it was just curiosity. But the way I kept looking at it told another story.

“Still looking at that picture?” Maya’s voice broke the silence.

I looked up. She was standing beside the couch, wearing a red dress and heels that probably cost more than I used to make in a year.

“You’re late,” I said, putting the phone away.

She raised an eyebrow. “So are you.”

I stood up and grabbed my jacket. “Let’s go.”

We walked in silence through the lobby. Maya looked perfect, smiling at the receptionist, greeting strangers with her fake charm. But I wasn’t really paying attention to her.

My mind was still at the bakery.

Still thinking about Alina.

At dinner, Maya kept the conversation going, talking to investors and pretending like nothing was wrong. She laughed at all the right moments, complimented everyone at the table, and made it seem like we were the perfect couple.

But under the table, her hand gripped my thigh.

Tight.

Like she was trying to remind me that I belonged to her.

Later that night, back at the hotel, she finally said what she’d been holding back.

“I went to see her.”

I looked up from the chair by the window. “Who?”

“Alina. Who else?” she said, slipping out of her heels.

I said nothing.

“She was working. Pretended to be surprised to see me.”

“She probably was.”

“She has a daughter,” Maya said, watching my face. “Cute kid. Looks a little like you.”

I didn’t respond.

Maya walked over and leaned against the wall. “You’re wondering if she’s yours.”

“I don’t know what to think.”

“She said nothing to you, right? About a kid?”

“No.”

“Then that should tell you everything.”

I looked away, jaw tight.

Maya crossed her arms. “Don’t let her play you, Elijah. She left you. She broke your heart and walked away without a word. You think she’d hide your kid for five years and just forget to mention it?”

“I don’t know,” I said quietly. “I thought I knew her. But maybe I didn’t.”

Maya stepped closer. “You didn’t. She used you. And when her family told her to choose, she picked them.”

I shook my head. “It wasn’t that simple.”

“Yes, it was,” Maya snapped. “You were poor. She was rich. Her father hated you. You think she didn’t know what she was doing?”

I stood up, walking to the window.

The lights of the small town flickered below. Peaceful. Calm. Nothing like my old life. Nothing like the chaos in my head.

I thought about my sister. How sick she was back then. How scared we were. How her treatments almost buried us in debt. And how we were suddenly forced to move out of town with no warning, no goodbye.

All because of Alina’s father.

I thought about the day I asked Alina to run away with me. The way she cried. The way she said she couldn’t. I didn’t understand it then.

Now I was starting to.

“You don’t know everything, Maya,” I said.

“I know enough,” she replied. “Don’t let her back in. You’re better than that.”

Maybe she was right.

But when I closed my eyes, I didn’t see Maya.

I saw Alina, standing behind that counter. Looking like the girl I fell in love with. Tired, but still strong. Holding secrets behind her eyes.