Chapter 96: A dream
[Past Life]
Inside the dimly lit room, Daniel sat motionless on the cold floor, a single sheet of paper trembling in his hands. The report, the one confirming Anna’s pregnancy stared back at him like a cruel ghost.
His eyes were red, swollen, and empty. The tears had long dried, but the hollowness in his chest only grew heavier, as if grief had carved a permanent void inside him.
She had been pregnant. She had been carrying his child.
And yet he never knew.
The thought alone sliced through him like a thousand blades. His breath came out in shallow gasps, and his trembling fingers tightened around the report until it crumpled beneath his grip.
Only if he hadn’t been a coward.
Only if he hadn’t turned away from her every time she tried to reach him.
Only if he had realized sooner how deeply he loved her.
Then maybe just maybe she would still be here.
The guilt was suffocating, wrapping around his throat like a noose. He wanted to scream, to destroy everything in sight, but all he could do was sit there, broken and lost.
When the door creaked open, a sliver of light fell into the dark room. Mariam’s familiar voice cut softly through the silence.
"Master... please, you haven’t eaten in days," she said gently, her tone laced with worry. "You’ll make yourself sick. Please don’t punish yourself like this."
Daniel didn’t look up. He remained hunched over, his shoulders trembling. His once sharp, commanding presence had vanished, now replaced by a man who looked utterly defeated.
Mariam’s heart clenched. She had served this household for years, had seen the way Daniel distanced himself from his wife... had watched Anna wilt under his cold indifference.
And now here he was, destroyed by the loss of the very woman he had pushed away.
’You only learn the value of someone when they’re gone,’ she thought sadly.
After a long silence, Daniel’s voice broke the air rough, low, and trembling enough to slight flinch the woman.
"Why didn’t you tell me, Mariam?" he asked, finally lifting his head. His eyes were hollow, rimmed with red, but there was no anger, only unbearable emptiness.
"Why didn’t you tell me she was pregnant?"
Mariam froze. The question she had dreaded finally came.
She lowered her gaze. "Madam wanted to tell you herself," she whispered. "She planned a surprise for your anniversary. She even ordered a small gift for you... a pair of baby shoes."
Daniel’s jaw clenched, and a tremor ran through his body.
"She wanted to tell you everything that day," Mariam continued, her voice cracking. "But you... you left for your overseas meeting. She called you, but you didn’t answer."
The world tilted around him. The memory struck like lightning, The phone calls he ignored, the texts he never read. That morning, she had asked him to come home early. He had dismissed it coldly, saying he was too busy.
"She wanted to share the news with me," he whispered, horror seeping into his tone. "And I..."
He couldn’t finish.
The paper slipped from his hands as tears finally burst free. His knees buckled, and he collapsed to the floor, a raw cry tearing from his throat.
"WHY—WHY WAS I SO CRUEL TO HER?!" Daniel screamed, his fists slamming against the marble. His voice cracked with anguish, his cries echoing through the empty house like a man being torn apart from the inside.
Mariam stood frozen, tears glistening in her own eyes. There was nothing she could say to soothe him.
He clutched at the file beside him, his fingers tracing Anna’s name as though it might bring her back.
"Why did you leave me, Anna?" he whispered brokenly. "Why didn’t you give me a chance to love you? Just once... just once, I should have told you how much you meant to me..."
The room filled with the sound of his sobs until his strength finally gave out.
His vision blurred. His breathing slowed. The darkness he had been fighting against finally consumed him whole as he slumped forward, unconscious.
The crumpled report slipped from his hand, fluttering gently to the floor, the only remaining proof of the life he’d lost and the love he realized too late.
[Present]
Daniel stirred awake in his office, breath uneven, shirt clinging faintly to his chest.
The pale glow of the moon streamed through the tall glass windows, casting long, lonely shadows across the room. But the echo of that memory, his cries, her name, his regret still clung to him like a ghost that refused to leave.
"Boss, are you okay?"
Henry’s voice cut through the silence, laced with worry.
Daniel blinked, disoriented, his usually sharp eyes clouded with something unreadable. "What happened?" he asked, his voice low and rough as he pushed himself upright.
When Henry had entered a few minutes ago, he’d found his boss slumped over the desk, his expression twisted in anguish, muttering unintelligibly.
At first, Henry thought he was dreaming, but when Daniel’s breathing quickened, he panicked and tried calling out, shaking him gently, even splashing a few drops of water on his wrist. But nothing worked. And just when he was about to call a doctor, Daniel had snapped awake with a sharp gasp.
"Boss..." Henry hesitated, glancing at his face. "You were crying in your sleep."
Daniel froze.
For a long moment, he said nothing, his eyes flickering in disbelief. His hand rose slowly to his cheek and there it was. The faint wetness of tears.
He quickly wiped them away, his jaw tightening as he tried to regain composure. But the heaviness in his chest refused to ease. The dream... no, the memory it had felt so real. Too real.
"Maybe it was just a nightmare," he muttered, trying to sound casual. "Nothing to worry about."
But even to his own ears, the words sounded hollow.
Henry studied him quietly, unsure if he should believe that. He had worked under Daniel for years and had seen him in every possible state angry, cold, furious but never like this. Never... broken.
And the way he’d been whispering Anna’s name over and over,it unsettled him.
’Maybe he’s just missing his wife,’ Henry told himself, forcing the thought to make sense. After all, Daniel had been oddly protective of her lately.
Daniel rubbed his temples, trying to clear the fog in his head. The moonlight shimmered against the glass, reflecting a man who looked the same on the outside, but inside something was shifting.
That dream... the image of Anna, her voice, her tears it was still so vivid, it burned in his mind. He could still feel the despair, the guilt the kind of pain that didn’t come from imagination, but from memory.
Yet he couldn’t remember living it and his hand clenched slightly on the armrest.
"Henry," he said quietly, his voice steady but distant, "pre-pone all my overseas meeting for the next hour. I’ll attend them all tonight"
Henry blinked. "Y-yes, boss."
Daniel didn’t explain. He didn’t need to. But simply got up and walked out of his office with a blank face.
***
By the time Daniel reached home, exhaustion weighed heavy in his bones. He’d showered, changed into a crisp black shirt, and was about to head to his study when his steps faltered.
His gaze lingered on Anna’s door—half-closed, just as she always left it.
The thought to check on her surfaced quietly, almost instinctively. But the moment it did, something inside him twisted. That dream, the haunting memory that didn’t belong to this lifetime still clung to him, pressing against the edges of his sanity.
’Why did that loss feel so real?’ he wondered, his throat tightening at the phantom ache that refused to fade.
He shouldn’t go in. He knew that. And yet, his hand was already reaching for the doorknob, moving before his mind could stop him.
The door creaked softly as it opened, the dim light from the hallway spilling into the room.
Daniel’s breath caught for a moment.
There she was, Anna sleeping soundly in the middle of the bed, her hair sprawled across the pillow like a halo. The rise and fall of her chest was soft, steady. Her lips slightly parted, her cheek pressed against the duvet.
Peaceful. Unaware.
His lips tugged faintly not quite a smile, not quite a frown. "You really have no idea what you do to people, do you?" he murmured under his breath.
And then his eyes fell to her leg half dangling off the bed, as though she’d fallen asleep mid-battle.
A low chuckle escaped him. "Still as careless as ever."
Shaking his head, he stepped closer, his movements quiet and deliberate. He bent slightly, one hand sliding under her calf to lift her leg gently back onto the mattress. His touch was light, careful not to wake her.
Anna mumbled something incoherent in her sleep and turned slightly to the other side, clutching her pillow like a child.
Daniel stood there for a long moment, watching her. The edges of his heart softened despite the storm inside him.
"Always making trouble even in your sleep," he muttered, a faint sneer tugging at his lips though his eyes held nothing but conflicted warmth.
He pulled the duvet up to her shoulder and tucked it in, brushing away a stray lock of hair that fell across her cheek.
For a fleeting second, the urge to lean down and press a kiss to her forehead crossed his mind. But then that image from the dream, her loss, his cries flashed before his eyes causing his chest tightened painfully.
Daniel stepped back abruptly, his hand curling into a fist at his side.
Without another word, he turned and walked out, quietly closing the door behind him.