Chapter 3 I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT RIGHT NOW.

7 Years Later...

(Seraphina Parker)

"Are you there already?" Becca's voice came through my phone, her excitement almost contagious.

I sighed, adjusting my dress. "Yes, I'm here."

After a year of dodging blind dates, Becca had finally worn me down. I had repeatedly told her I was too busy. Between work and raising April alone, dating wasn't a priority. But Becca, persistent as always, refused to take no for an answer.

"You need a man to make you feel lighter and keep you younger," she teased every time.

I rolled my eyes. "Why does it feel like he doesn't deserve my time? What kind of gentleman keeps a woman waiting for minutes after they agreed to meet?"

"Oh, give him a chance, Phina. He's a gentleman," she giggled.

Before I could argue, I spotted a well-dressed man entering the luxurious hotel. Brown suit. Tall. Confident stride.

"He's here, I think," I muttered, switching the phone to my other ear. My fingers instinctively reached for my inhaler. Two quick puffs, and I slipped it back into my bag before he could see.

Becca's giggle intensified. "Oh, he's going to charm you, just wait."

I frowned. "Becca, why do you sound more excited than me? If you like him so much, why didn't you go on this blind date yourself?"

"For the last time, I have a boyfriend and I love him." She said, a wave of seriousness in her voice.

"Besides, he asked to meet you." She continued, clearing her throat dramatically.

My breath caught. "Wait. Becca, what did you just say? What's do you..."

"Phina, focus. Talk to him first."

Before I could demand more answers, my supposed date reached my table. I ended the call, placed my phone down, and stood up, extending my hand with a polite smile.

Then, I saw his face.

My chest tightened instantly. My breathing became shallow, erratic. A familiar panic clawed at my lungs, threatening to suffocate me. My crises attacked again.

Not here. Not now.

I clenched my fists, willing myself to stay calm, but my vision blurred. The world around me faded. My heartbeat pounded in my ears.

No. No. No.

I gasped for air, my hands shaking as I fought against the suffocating weight on my chest. Tears burned my eyes. My fingers dug into the table as I tried to steady myself.

This is not happening to me.

"Breathe, Phina. Breathe," I whispered to myself.

I dismissed the thought of reaching for the inhaler in my bag. I wasn't ready to show him that aspect of my life.

I kept pushing gentle breaths and thankfully, I began to feel better.

A warm hand touched my back, moving gently in slow, soothing motions. "Would you like some water?"

That voice.

I turned, and my stomach flipped.

It was really him.

The stranger from seven years ago.

The man I had fallen for at first sight.

The man I had shared one passionate night with.

The man who unknowingly fathered my daughter.

I squeezed my eyes shut. Maybe I was hallucinating. Maybe my oxygen-deprived brain was playing tricks on me.

But when I opened them, he was still there.

Still breathtakingly handsome. Still with the same gentle expression.

It really was him.

A strangled sob escaped my throat before I could stop it. Before I even knew what I was doing, I threw myself against him, wrapping my arms around him.

His body tensed in surprise. "Are you okay?"

I ignored the question, gripping him tighter. "I missed you."

Silence.

His hesitation spoke volumes. He didn't remember me.

A sharp pain stabbed my chest.

Of course. Why would he?

That night, I had been a broken girl. A mess. A complication no man would willingly want.

But now? Now, I was different. I was strong, independent. A mother. A woman who had fought to build a life for herself and her son. A determined woman with goals, sworn to be achieved.

I forced myself to pull away, wiping at my eyes before any more tears could betray me.

"I'm fine now," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "Thank you for your concern."

He studied me for a moment before nodding. "I'm glad."

Then, he extended his hand. "My name is Elian, by the way. Elian Montrose."

I watched his outstretched hand and my mind wandered back to that night. His touches that made my stomach sing and the feel of his skin against mine in gentle sweetness.

I forced a polite smile and took his hand, feeling him again after a long time, "Seraphina Parker. Nice to meet you."

His grip was firm, warm, familiar in a way that made my heart ache.

As he pulled away, he gave me a small smile. "I appreciate your patience. I had some urgent work to finish before coming here."

"You're lucky it was just a few minutes," I teased, trying to lighten the moment.

His deep chuckle sent a shiver down my spine. "I apologize, Madame. I'll make it up to you."

I smiled. I had forgotten what it felt like to make someone laugh.

"You're fierce. I like it," he said, his gaze lingering on me.

I swallowed. "You ordered yet?"

He waved down a waiter, placing our orders. But as the waiter left, his expression changed.

"Have we met before?"

My breath hitched.

This was it. The question I had been waiting seven years to ask.

"Why did you leave that day without a goodbye?"

His brows furrowed. "What do you mean? What day?"

"The night you saved me. You even called a doctor. But when I woke up, you were gone."

A shadow of confusion passed over his face. "I'm sorry, but I have no idea what you're talking about right now."

His words were like a slap.

He didn't remember.

He truly had no idea who I was.

I clenched my fists beneath the table, forcing a smile. "Never mind. I must have mistaken you for someone else."

But inside, my heart shattered.

I was sure it was him. Ripples ran through my brain. I grabbed the glass of wine and sipped a bit from it to relax my nerves.

I can't be mistaken. I will make him remember.