Who Are You?
“Demitri, are you sure about this?” Irene asked, her voice low as they lingered outside the estate. The evening shadows lengthened, casting eerie silhouettes over the sprawling property.
Demitri leaned against the car, his gaze fixed on the main entrance. “I need to see her, Mom. We need to talk. I can't let her marry that jerk.”
Irene sighed, glancing at her son’s tense profile. “You still don’t remember how the accident happened, do you?”
He shook his head. “No, but I remember what I was thinking about before. Ashley. I was thinking about how I failed her, how I let things fall apart. And then... nothing.” He clenched his fists. “I can’t lose her, Mom. Not again.”
His mother hesitated before speaking. “You know, Ashley didn’t give up on you easily,” she said softly.
Demitri turned to her, his brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“She was with you every day in the hospital,” Irene began, her voice filled with admiration. “She barely ate, barely slept. For two whole days, she sat by your side. She didn’t leave until she had no choice.”
Demitri’s heart tightened. “Why did she leave?”
Irene sighed. “Ethan.”
Demitri’s jaw clenched. “What did he do?”
“He threatened to cut off the partnership between your company, hers and his family’s business. Ashley came to me, trying to find a way to manage things without burdening you.”
Demitri’s eyes darkened. “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”
“Because you were unconscious!” Irene snapped, then softened her tone. “And a week after she left for New York, everything changed. She stopped calling, stopped answering my messages. I don’t know what happened, but she just... disappeared.”
Demitri ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident. “I need to find her, Mom. I need to know why she’s pushing everyone away. I'm sure it's because of him.”
Irene was about to respond when a yellow cab pulled up in front of the estate.
Demitri’s breath hitched as the door opened. A familiar figure stepped out, her posture stiff and guarded.
“Ashley,” he whispered. Without hesitation, he bolted toward her.
She paused mid-step, her back to him, her body tense.
“Ashley, wait!” he called out, his voice desperate. “It’s me—Demitri.”
She stopped but didn’t turn around.
“Ashley, please,” he pleaded, his voice breaking. “Look at me.”
Slowly, she turned, her eyes meeting him. Her face was calm, but her expression was devoid of any emotion.
“Ashley,” Demitri said, his voice filled with relief as he stepped closer. “I’ve been…. I—”
She raised a hand, stopping him in his tracks. “Who are you?”
The words were like a punch to his gut.
Demitri froze, staring at her in disbelief. “What... what did you say?”
Ashley tilted her head, her gaze steady. “I said, who are you?”
Demitri’s lips parted, but no words came out. His mind raced, trying to make sense of her question.
Demitri staggered back as if he’d been slapped. “Ashley... it’s me,” he whispered. “It’s Demitri.”