Love Me Back (Amelia and Daniel) novel Chapter 65

…Yeah, right.

Amelia finally realized what was going on. Her expression darkened as she stood up, ready to leave.

Daniel drawled, “You’re not interested in the divorce papers anymore?”

She froze.

If ever there was a textbook example of how to make a woman stay with just one sentence, this was it.

Amelia sat back down, her irritation clear. “What now? What game are you playing this time?”

Daniel reached for her hand. “Let’s watch the movie first. We’ll talk after.”

She pulled her hand away. He reached again. She pulled back, again. He kept trying, relentless and amused.

Amelia had no patience for his childish grabby-hands routine. She glared at him. “Aren’t you tired of this?”

“Shhh—” He definitely wasn’t. In fact, there was a playful spark in his eyes. “The movie’s starting.”

It wasn’t some action blockbuster, but a quiet, artsy romance—gentle, slow, but with love that ran deep. Two poignant scenes in, and several girls around them were already quietly crying.

Amelia felt moved too, but she held back her tears. That kind of love that seeps into your bones—maybe it only exists in movies or novels. Real life never seems quite so unforgettable.

Love is like writing poetry with water: as you write, it vanishes.

You’re still in love, but he isn’t.

You’re thinking only of him, not realizing his passion has cooled, faded away.

Or maybe, there was never any passion at all. After all, she had only been a stand-in from the start. Everything that looked like love was just a beautiful lie.

On the big screen, the leads clung to each other in the rain, desperate and devoted. Amelia felt like there was a rainstorm brewing inside her too—damp, restless, cold.

The movie ended, and people began to stand up, gathering their things.

Amelia started to move, but Daniel’s warm hand closed over hers. “No rush. Everyone’s going to crowd the restroom right now anyway.”

He had a point, so she changed tack, getting to business. “The papers. If you’ve signed, give them to me.”

Daniel let out a sharp laugh. “You know, I’m starting to feel like my new name should be ‘Divorce Papers.’ Just call me Daniel Agreement from now on.”

At that moment, the big screen suddenly went dark.

With the only source of light gone, the entire theater was swallowed by darkness.

His voice came from beside her, low and calm, “That won’t do. We’re still husband and wife. If people heard I divorced my wife and sent her packing with nothing, I’d be ruined.”

He wanted it both ways, always turning things around to suit himself. Amelia crushed the empty milk carton in her hand, tempted to throw it at his face.

“Daniel, what do you actually—”

Before she could finish, the screen flickered back to life. With a soft bang, two large boxes on either side of the screen burst open. Ribbons and pink balloons spilled out, floating gently toward the ceiling. In an instant, the small theater was transformed into something almost magical.

Amelia stared, momentarily stunned.

Daniel glanced at her, feigning annoyance. “You know what today is, right? Our wedding anniversary. Unlike someone, I actually remember.”

Amelia hadn’t forgotten. She just didn’t care anymore.

Who celebrates an anniversary when the marriage is already in its final act?