Love Me Back (Amelia and Daniel) novel Chapter 204

Eight months later, Emerald Meadows.

It was Amelia’s birthday. Daniel left work early—earlier than usual—and stopped by a bakery to make a cake himself, vanilla, her favorite.

The empty living room echoed with the sound of “Happy Birthday.” Daniel lowered his eyes as he blew out the candle, quietly murmuring, “Happy birthday.”

Silence answered him. Not even a whisper stirred the air.

A wry smile tugged at his lips. He shook his head, his voice dry with resignation. “You’ve hidden long enough. You can come out now.”

Of course, there was no reply.

He cut two slices of cake, placing one across from him, the other for himself. Just as he was about to take a bite, a memory from the day she left flashed through his mind.

She’d picked out a suit for him that morning. He’d asked her if it meant anything special. She’d said no.

Little liar. How many other things had she hidden from him?

Of course it meant something. He realized now that the suit was almost identical to the one he’d worn the first time they met outside the old school auditorium. And she—she’d worn a white dress, just like that first day.

She’d been saying goodbye in her own way. The same beginning, the same ending.

That was how she chose to leave.

Daniel’s thoughts drifted to the birthday cake she’d made for him that year—pear filling, subtle and sweet.

Pear. In her world, it was a symbol of parting.

She’d done it on purpose, he knew that now. But he couldn’t bring himself to blame her.

Still, the memory left a tight ache in his chest, a hollow pressure that wouldn’t ease.

Little troublemaker. Even after leaving, she’d left enough landmines behind to make sure he could never forget her.

He lost his appetite all at once and headed for his room.

Daniel snapped pictures with his phone, one hand holding a sparkler. A child nearby asked, “Uncle Daniel, where’s Aunt Amelia? Why didn’t she come out to light fireworks?”

Firelight flickered in Daniel’s eyes, bright against the darkness. “She’s busy. She’s on her way.”

The boy in the blue hat, still sulking over his lost sparklers, decided to twist the knife. “My mom says New Year’s dinner is the most important. If Aunt Amelia didn’t show up for that, she’s probably not coming at all.”

Kids always knew how to hit where it hurt.

That night, the boy missed out on sparklers, party poppers, glow sticks, spinning tops—Daniel kept him close the whole time, his cries blending perfectly with the countdown to midnight.

The experience left such a mark that the following New Year, the boy bolted the moment he saw Daniel, scurrying away like a mouse from a cat.

…

Time slipped by. Three years later.

Silkwood Airport…