“Why are you here?” Amara asked, her voice guarded.

“I think it’s obvious,” Max replied, a hint of desperation creeping in. “I came to take you home.”

“No,” she said simply, her gaze drifting away. “I don’t have a home.” Her voice softened, but the weight of her words lingered.

“Amara,” Max stepped closer, his eyes pleading. “I miss you. Please… don’t make me force you.”

“You miss me?” she echoed, a bitter smile crossing her lips. “What about your lover? Aren’t you happy with her? It would be strange to have both of us there.”

“Stop playing with me. You know the truth… When will you forgive me?” Max’s frustration surged as he ran a hand through his hair, helpless.

“Maybe I need time,” Amara replied, her tone cold and distant.

“I gave you eight years! Eight years!” Max’s voice rose, trembling with anger and sorrow. “Eight years, and you think I didn’t know you were here? Did you believe I lost you? I let you live your life while I waited. I waited patiently, my love, but I can’t do this anymore. We miss you.”

“Wait more, then. Don’t lie to yourself about missing me. I know you hate me—or worse… want to kill me,” she said, expressionless.

“Yes… I did ,” Max admitted, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He stepped closer, bending slightly to meet her gaze. His eyes, filled with longing, searched hers for any sign of understanding.

But Amara looked back with disdain and hurt, her expression hardening as she turned away.

“I waited, yearning for your forgiveness all these years — sacrificing everything, losing myself in time. I hated you, I did. I tried to erase you from my life, but I couldn’t. I regretted everything — what I did was wrong… but what you did was worse. People call me a monster, a killer, a ghost — all because of you. But still… I can’t live in this hell without you. I can’t kill you. I can’t. You are my everything, and yet… you don’t even know that,” Max confessed, his voice breaking.

“That’s enough,” Amara interrupted sharply, her eyes cold and unwavering. “You should leave, Aiden.”

“I’m desperate… can’t you see? Look at me,” Max pleaded. “I miss you—everything about you. You—”

Amara’s anger flared. “You think I’m stupid enough to fall for this act again?”

“I’m not fooling you, Amara,” Max said quietly, voice strained with pain.

“Eight years have passed, Maxwell. Please… just let me go. Go live your life and leave me behind. There’s nothing left here for me to hold on to. I don’t love you anymore. You should choose her over me; it was always her story from the very beginning. I accept my defeat. I know you’re angry with me, and I have no defense for what I did for our children. I can’t forgive myself either. Just… let me forget all of you, please. If you want revenge, I’m ready to die,” she whispered, voice trembling with a mixture of sorrow and resignation.