Her Rebirth.

Tw: Mention of child abuse

"Kai, why? Why did your father leave me?"

"He promised me! He promised that he would marry me, so why did he betray me?"

Kai could still hear the screams of his mother as she gripped his head, her fingernails digging deep into his skin, blood seeping out.

At the time, he hadn’t understood. His small hands had clutched the hem of her dress, his young mind struggling to grasp why she wept so bitterly. But as time went on, he began to understand, she cried for his father, who had left her when she was pregnant with him.

Seeing his mother cry this way, his innocent, childish mind had a single thought. If you loved him so much, why didn’t you lock him up? He wouldn’t be able to run away, would he? Then you wouldn’t be so sad. You wouldn’t cry every night. You wouldn’t hurt me anymore.

The realization settled deep in his bones, taking root, shaping him into the person he would one day become. He knew that nothing stayed unless you made it stay.

He had once caught a beautiful butterfly with red and black wings that shimmered under the sunlight. He had been fascinated by its beauty. He wanted to keep it for himself, didn’t want it to fly away, so he caught it and kept it in a bottle. Three days later, it was dead. A part of him had been disappointed, but at least, at least, it had died with him. It hadn’t escaped. It hadn’t left him behind.

Later, he learned why it had died. It was because it lacked air and food.

So, he made himself a promise. The next butterfly he caught, he would give it just enough air, just enough food.

He would take better care of it.

Kai lowered his gaze to the letter in his hand, his grip tightening slightly.

Well, I’m keeping that promise now.

Poppy curled itself against Kai’s legs, letting out a soft, contented purr.

Kai scooped the small cat into his arms, running his fingers down its back in slow, rhythmic strokes.

"You must miss Mum too, right?" he murmured, his voice quiet.

Poppy meowed softly in response.

Kai exhaled, a rare warmth flickering in his otherwise cold gaze.

"I miss her too. But she’ll be back."

With that, he carried Poppy to his room, placing him gently on the bed before heading to the bathroom. The sound of running water filled the space as he stepped under the warm spray, his long black hair slicking against his skin, droplets trailing down his chest and abs.

Minutes later, he emerged, a towel slung around his shoulders, his damp hair clinging to his neck. He dried himself with the towel and slipped on a simple white shirt and gray sweatpants, the fabric clinging to his still slightly wet skin.

He picked Poppy up again, strode over to a large desk, sat down, and swiped open his laptop.

The screen illuminated his sharp features, an indulgent smile playing at his lips as he pulled up the surveillance feed.

And there she was.

Amelia.

His beautiful butterfly.

His silver-rimmed glasses reflected Amelia as she stretched a bit before continuing to unpack. She looked content, as if she truly belonged there. As if she had already moved on. His fingers drummed against the desk, quite annoyed by that fact.

His eyes darkened as they fell on her, tracing the soft lines of her figure, the way her lips moved as she muttered to herself.

Then, as if by instinct, his hand moved to the drawer beside him. He pulled it open and retrieved a neatly folded napkin, slightly creased from the many times he had touched it.

It was the same napkin she had given him at the bar.

Kai ran his fingers over the fabric, recalling the way she had pushed it toward him that night, with indifference in her eyes. He brought it closer, inhaling faint traces of whatever lingering scent remained. His grip tightened.

"Amelia..."

Her name left his lips in a whisper, heavy with desire, frustration, and possession. It was like a prayer on his lips to the one who had given him salvation and light in this bleak life of his.

On the screen, Amelia brushed her long blonde hair over her shoulder, oblivious to the fact that he was watching. That he was always watching.

She thought she could leave him. She thought she could build a life without him.

Kai exhaled sharply, his head tilting back as he let his eyes devour the sight of her. A twisted sort of satisfaction curled in his chest. This was enough for now. Watching. Waiting.

She would come back to him.

She had to.

Even if she didn’t want to, he would drag her back to him, back to his embrace.

And until then... he would remind himself that she was still his.

Meanwhile, Amelia had just finished unpacking.

She stretched her arms above her head, arching her back before exhaling.

"I’m tired," she muttered, placing both hands on her waist as she surveyed the apartment.

Not bad.

She had done a good job.

A small sense of satisfaction settled in her chest, only for her stomach to interrupt the moment with a quiet grumble.

Right.

She had ordered takeout.

As if on cue, she heard a ding from her door.

"That must be it," she mused, padding toward the entrance.

But as she reached for the handle, a fleeting thought crossed her mind.

I really miss Kai’s cooking.

She paused. Then scowled.

What the hell am I thinking? I can’t be thinking about him when I left so that I wouldn’t think about him.

Shaking the thought away, Amelia opened the door, greeting the delivery man with a polite smile. But just as she was about to take the bag, something, or rather, someone, caught her attention.

A woman stepped out from the apartment next to hers.

The woman turned, their eyes locked, and they both froze.

"...Amelia?"

Sera’s voice was filled with disbelief.

"What are you doing here?"

—

One hour earlier

Flickering images of Amelia’s press conference played on the screen of a huge television. Sera hadn’t meant to watch; she had been skipping the channels, searching for something interesting to watch until the moment Amelia’s face appeared, and she froze.

A breath of relief escaped her lips before she even realized it.

She’s okay.

For days, Sera had been restless, unable to shake the unease that gripped her since she heard Amelia had gone missing. It made no sense. Why should she care? She hated Amelia, didn’t she?

Or at least... she thought she did.

She had told herself that over and over. But if she truly hated Amelia, then why had the news of her disappearance made her stomach churn? Why had she lost sleep, tossing and turning, unable to banish the nagging worry at the back of her mind? Why was she worried for someone she obviously hated?

Why did she hate Amelia?

They were classmates in middle school. Back then, Sera hadn’t paid Amelia much attention. The girl had been timid and reserved, the perfect target for bullies. But Sera hadn’t hated her, she had been disgusted by how Amelia simply let people walk all over her, never fighting back, never standing her ground.

Sera had wanted to shake her. Why do you just stand there? Why don’t you fight?

Then, in high school, something changed. Amelia stopped being the meek girl. Instead, she became wild, reckless, a storm that refused to be controlled. She was rude, rebellious, and sharp-tongued, lashing out at anyone who tried to put her in her place.

Sera had hated that. Their personalities clashed like fire and ice, Sera never listened, never backed down, and Amelia had no patience for spoiled brats who thought they could do whatever they wanted. Every encounter between them ended in hostility, with neither willing to back down.

And then came the moment that sealed Sera’s hatred. She had heard Amelia giggle aloud in mockery.

"The trash princess of Langford."

Amelia’s words had cut deeper than any insult before. Sera had lost it. After that, she swore she despised Amelia more than anyone else.

Her resentment only deepened when she met Lilac. Lilac was sweet and kind, she was an angel, a stark contrast to the rude Amelia. And Amelia had bullied Lilac, hadn’t she? That was all the reason Sera needed to loathe her even more.

So when had it changed?

Sera stared at the screen, her reflection faintly visible over Amelia’s face. When did I stop hating her?

Was it that time at the restaurant? When Amelia had looked at her indifferently? When she had expected Amelia to lash out, to be the same girl she always was, but instead... she had been different.

Or was it the moment she realized that Amelia wasn’t the villain all along, but Lilac?

Sera exhaled, rubbing her temples.

She hated Amelia, right?

So why did it feel like she didn’t?