Ashley’s POV
The storm raged through my dreams, as it always did, every time I closed my eyes. But tonight, it was Caleb. His eyes were dark, almost accusing, as he stared at me, a gaping wound in his chest.
Blood soaked his shirt, spreading outwards like an ever-growing stain. He stood in front of me, his lips moving, but I couldn’t hear the words.
Finally, his voice broke through the haze. “Why, Ashley? Why did you let her do it? Why did you let your mother shoot me?”
His words cut through me like a blade, sharper than the cold air swirling around us. I opened my mouth to speak, to defend myself, but no sound came out.
All I could do was shake my head, tears burning my eyes. I hadn’t wanted it to happen. I hadn’t wanted any of it, but that didn’t matter now.
I woke up with a start, gasping for air. The dream clung to me, lingering in the early morning light that streamed through the curtains of my room.
The dream had been so vivid, so real, that it left me trembling. I could still see the hurt in his eyes, still feel the accusation in his voice.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to push the memory away, but it was no use. The image was seared into my mind, a permanent scar.
With a heavy sigh, I forced myself to get out of bed. The hardwood floor was cold beneath my bare feet, grounding me in the present.
I moved through the motions of my morning routine, trying to shake off the remnants of the dream. But no matter what I did-brushing my teeth, washing my face, tying back my hair-Caleb’s face was still there, hovering just out of sight.
As I reached for the door to leave my room, I noticed a small slip of paper on the floor, just under my door. My heart skipped a beat. I hadn’t heard anyone approach, hadn’t seen anyone come to the door.
I bent down to pick it up, my fingers trembling as I unfolded the note. The handwriting was familiar, yet somehow different, like it had been written in haste or with a shaking hand.
“Come to the garden by noon.”
No name, no signature. Just a simple instruction. I stared at the note, my mind racing with possibilities. A knot of unease tightened in my stomach.
I glanced at the clock, just enough time to dress and make my way to the garden. I threw on a simple dress and a shawl, the chill in the air biting at my skin as I stepped outside.
The garden was a small, secluded area at the back of the estate, hidden from view by a thick wall of trees. It had always been a place of solace for me, a refuge from the chaos of the outside world.
But today, it felt different. The air was thick with tension, the kind that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.
I stepped forward, the gravel crunching beneath my feet as I walked down the path, my heart pounding louder with each step.
As I rounded the corner, my breath caught in my throat. Standing between the trees, partially hidden by the shadows, was Caleb.
His presence was like a thunderclap in my mind, shattering any semblance of calm I had tried to maintain. He was alive. He was here. And he was looking right at me.
For a moment, I was frozen in place, unable to process what I was seeing. It was as if the dream had spilled over into reality, and I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.
Then, instinct kicked in, and I turned on my heel, ready to run.
But Caleb was faster. In an instant, he was in front of me, cutting off my escape. His eyes were hard, and cold, nothing like the Caleb I once knew. The Caleb who had made me laugh, who had held me close and whispered promises of forever.
“Ashley,” he started, his voice low and controlled, “We need to talk.”
I was shaking because even though Pandora had told me that he survived, I didn’t know if I was ready to confront that part of my life yet. He blocked my path, his expression unreadable.
Panic welled up inside me, and I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Caleb, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I never wanted my mother to shoot you…”
He held up a hand, silencing me. “Stop.”
The word hung in the air between us, heavy with finality. My breath hitched, and I looked up at him, searching for any sign of the man who had once loved me. But all I found was a stranger wearing his face.
“I don’t want to hear your apologies,” he continued, his voice devoid of emotion. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. The truth is, Ashley, it doesn’t matter anymore. None of it does.”
His words hit me like a blow, knocking the wind out of me. I reached out, desperate to bridge the distance between us, but he stepped back, out of reach.
The distance felt insurmountable, a chasm that had opened up between us, and I knew at that moment that it could never be closed.
“Caleb, please,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Please don’t do this.”
He shook his head, his expression unreadable. “It’s already done, Ashley. I’m done.”
His words echoed in my mind, each one a dagger to my heart. I felt a cold numbness spreading through me, but I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak.
All I could do was watch as Caleb turned and walked away, leaving me standing alone in the garden, the storm raging inside me far worse than the one in my dreams.