LOVE ME IN ANOTHER LIFE
Chapter 4
The night air hung heavy, pressing against the glass panes as if the darkness itself wanted to come inside.
Elara couldn’t sleep. The silence felt wrong — too still, too aware of her. She tossed beneath the sheets, the echo of Daniel’s voice earlier still circling her mind like a haunting melody she couldn’t turn off.
Her body ached with exhaustion, but her heart wouldn’t rest. The side of the bed where Andrian used to lie seemed colder than ever. She sat up, the moonlight spilling through the window and bathing her face in pale silver.
Walking slowly to the window, she whispered to the night,
“It used to be a beautiful night... until you disappeared.”
Her voice broke, small and raw. “You promised me forever, Andrian… and then you just—”
A low voice behind her cut through the silence.
“You’re still awake?”
Elara froze. Her breath caught in her throat. She turned halfway, heart pounding.
Daniel stood in the doorway — barefoot, his shirt loose, his eyes shadowed in the dim light.
“How did you get into my room?” she asked sharply.
Daniel didn’t answer. He stepped closer, the faint smell of his cologne — the same one Andrian wore — wrapping around her like a cruel reminder.
Her lips trembled. The way he looked at her, the angle of his jaw, even the gentle rise of his chest — it was all him.
“Andrian…” she whispered before she could stop herself.
Daniel’s lips twitched — not quite a smile, not quite a frown.
Then he spoke, but the tone, the rhythm… it wasn’t Daniel’s.
“Come on, Elara.”
Her stomach flipped. That was Andrian’s voice — soft, teasing, full of warmth that used to make her melt.
She took a step back. “Where have you been?”
Daniel’s eyes darkened. He moved closer, close enough that she could feel his breath against her cheek.
“I never left,” he murmured.
Before she could think, before she could breathe — he kissed her.
It was deep, sudden, and for a second — her body betrayed her. She kissed him back, her fingers trembling against his chest, the old memory of Andrian flooding every nerve.
But then — reality slammed into her.
This wasn’t Andrian.
She shoved him away, her breath shaking.
“Daniel!”
She ran to the bathroom, fumbling with the light, splashing water on her lips and face as though she could wash away what just happened. Her reflection in the mirror looked pale, terrified, and confused.
From the doorway, Daniel’s voice came — low and uncertain.
> “Did we just… kiss?”
Elara spun to face him, her voice breaking.
> “Don’t you dare come closer!”
“Elara, it wasn’t—”
> “No! You kissed me! Or… he did — I don’t even know anymore!”
Daniel frowned, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to—something came over me. It felt like he was inside my head again.”
Elara stepped forward, anger and heartbreak clashing in her chest.
“You think that excuses it? You’re letting him use you! He’s gone, Daniel. Stop pretending he’s not!”
Daniel’s voice rose, trembling with something between guilt and frustration.
> “You think I want this? You think I asked for him to take over my body, to use my face to torture you?”
Her eyes filled with tears. “Then stop letting him!”
He slammed his hand against the wall, the sound sharp. “You don’t understand! When he takes over, I feel him — his thoughts, his pain, his love for you—”
“Stop it!” she shouted. “Don’t you dare use his love as your excuse!”
For a long moment, the room was filled only with their breathing.
Her chest heaved; his fists were clenched.
Then, quieter, Daniel said,
“You must have lost it all by saying such. How on earth do you expect me to fall with you? Even your mouth smells.”
She shook her head, tears spilling freely now.
“No… you’re wrong. I miss Andrian, yes. But you’re not him. And what you did tonight—” she looked away, trembling— “you crossed a line.”
Daniel’s expression faltered. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I swear, it wasn’t me. I just… I don’t know where he ends and I begin anymore.”
Elara turned back toward the window, clutching her robe around herself like armor.
“Then figure it out,” she said quietly. “Because if you don’t… one of us won’t make it out of this.”
Daniel stood there for a long time — silent, broken. Then he left.
The door closed softly behind him, but the echo of that kiss lingered, burning like guilt against her lips.
Outside, the wind rose, whispering against the glass —
as if Andrian himself was trying to speak through the night.
Morning slipped quietly into the room, brushing its pale gold across the curtains. The air smelled faintly of roses and something else—something unfamiliar.
Elara stirred, her lashes fluttering open to the soft light. For a brief second, she thought she heard Andrian’s voice, whispering her name like a memory too stubborn to fade. But when her eyes adjusted, it wasn’t Andrian standing before her—it was Daniel, holding a tray of breakfast with a glass of red wine glimmering beside a plate of buttered bread.
“Hello, beautiful Elara,” he said softly, his tone meant to sound kind.
But kindness was the last thing she felt.
A pulse of anger rose through her chest—sharp, hot, almost bitter.
“How dare you—” she sat up abruptly, the sheets falling around her waist. “Who told you to enter my room again?”
Daniel’s smile faltered. “I thought—after last night—you needed someone to care for you. You barely slept.”
Elara’s voice hardened. “That doesn’t give you the right to barge into my room as if you live here. I warned you, Daniel. This—whatever it is—ends here.”
He tried to speak, but she lifted the glass of wine from the tray.
Her hand trembled—not from fear, but fury—and before Daniel could take a step forward, the crimson liquid splashed across his shirt, running down like spilled blood.
“Leave, Daniel. Now.”
For a long, silent moment, he didn’t move. His face was unreadable, neither wounded nor apologetic. He simply stood there, eyes dark, shoulders steady. Then, without a word, he placed the tray gently on the table and turned away.
She watched him pack—each fold of fabric, each quiet movement—feeling a strange ache pulse through her chest.
No pleading. No last glance.
When he reached the door, she spoke softly, almost to herself.
“Maybe this is what peace looks like.”
But her voice cracked halfway through.
From the window, Elara watched him step into the morning light. The sun caught on his hair as he walked away, slow and unhurried, disappearing past the gate without turning back.
She pressed her palm to the glass, whispering,
“Why does it hurt like this… when I was the one who asked him to go?”
The house felt emptier than before. The ticking of the clock grew louder, the silence stretching thin and cold.
At first, she told herself she’d finally breathe again—that she’d sleep without fear.
But by nightfall, as the shadows gathered and the wind sighed through the curtains, Elara realized something she hadn’t expected.
She missed him.
From around, everyone have just slept even Max had gone to sleep, beside Daniel's door.
" She must have love him a lot." Daniel said within himself, walking more closer.
“Hello, beautiful Elara,” he said softly, his tone meant to sound kind.
But kindness was the last thing she felt.
A pulse of anger rose through her chest—sharp, hot, almost bitter.
“How dare you—” she sat up abruptly, the sheets falling around her waist. “Who told you to enter my room again?”
Daniel’s smile faltered. “I thought—after last night—you needed someone to care for you. You barely slept.”
Elara’s voice hardened. “That doesn’t give you the right to barge into my room as if you live here. I warned you, Daniel. This—whatever it is—ends here.”
He tried to speak, but she lifted the glass of wine from the tray.
" Am, Am ....... Am only caring." He answered her.
" Caring, when did you start caring for me.?" " You stole Andrian's heart, and make it look like he lives in you." Elara told him.
" I didn't stole his eat, neither do I eat is flesh so he would live in me. " Daniel paused then continue. " I can't explain what. I have with Andrian."
" You must have murdered him." She asked Daniel.
" No, I didn't. And please stop accusing me." Daniel pointed at her.
Her hand trembled—not from fear, but fury—and before Daniel could take a step forward, the crimson liquid splashed across his shirt, running down like spilled blood.
“Leave, Daniel. Now.”
For a long, silent moment, he didn’t move. His face was unreadable, neither wounded nor apologetic.
" Did I wrong you.?"He simply stood there, eyes dark, shoulders steady. Then, without a word, he placed the tray gently on the table and turned away.
She watched him pack—each fold of fabric, each quiet movement—feeling a strange ache pulse through her chest.
No pleading. No last glance.
When he reached the door, she spoke softly, almost to herself.
“Maybe this is what peace looks like.”
But her voice cracked halfway through.
From the window, Elara watched him step into the morning light. The sun caught on his hair as he walked away, slow and unhurried, disappearing past the gate without turning back.
She pressed her palm to the glass, whispering,
“Why does it hurt like this… when I was the one who asked him to go?”
The house felt emptier than before. The ticking of the clock grew louder, the silence stretching thin and cold.
At first, she told herself she’d finally breathe again—that she’d sleep without fear. " I felt something within." She said to herself.
But by nightfall, as the shadows gathered and the wind sighed through the curtains, Elara realized something she hadn’t expected.
She missed him.
Elara then looked around. Max was nowhere to be find.
" Max...." She kept on searching for Max.
Elara could asked neighbors his way about.
" Where is Max.?" She kept asking herself. " Max." Elara shouted walking down the street. " Did he stole Max." She got confused.
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