Chapter 9: Redemption
1022words
Chris had listened without interruption, his expression shifting from confusion to disbelief to something like understanding. Now, in the silence that followed my final words, he simply looked at me with an intensity that made me shiver.
"You think I pushed you off a cliff," he said finally, his voice quiet. "That I killed your sister. That I married you to take over Reed Corp."
"Not you," I corrected. "Not... this you. But yes, that's what happened in my previous life."
He walked a few steps away, his back to me as he gazed out at the landscape. For a long moment, he said nothing, and I feared I had lost him forever. Who would believe such a story? Who wouldn't think me delusional or manipulative?
When he turned back to me, his eyes held a sadness that caught me off guard.
"Lara," he said softly, "I am so deeply sorry for what happened to you."
Of all the responses I had anticipated, this wasn't one of them. "You... believe me?"
"I believe that you believe it," he said carefully. "And whether it was a premonition, a parallel universe, or something else entirely—your pain is real. What you experienced was real to you."
He came back to stand before me, taking my hands in his. "I can't imagine the courage it took to tell me this. To marry someone you believed had killed you. To seek revenge and then... to choose love instead."
Tears filled my eyes at his unexpected compassion. "I didn't expect you to understand."
"I don't fully understand," he admitted. "But I know you, Lara. I've lived with you for a year. I've seen your integrity, your intelligence. You're not someone who invents elaborate fantasies."
He released my hands and reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a folded document. "I brought this with me today. I thought we might need it."
I recognized it immediately—our marriage contract, the prenuptial agreement that had outlined our one-year arrangement.
"I've already signed the dissolution," he said, opening the document to the last page. "If you want your freedom, it's yours. Just sign, and tomorrow we can file it."
My heart constricted at the thought of ending what we had built together. But as I looked down at the signature line, something caught my eye.
"Christopher Frost," I whispered, staring at the signature. My pulse quickened as the implications crashed over me like a wave. The name seemed to blur before my eyes as my mind raced to process what I was seeing.
Chris—Christopher—watched me carefully, his brow furrowing at my reaction. "Yes?"
"The man I married before, the man who killed me—he called himself Chris, but his full name was Christian." My voice trembled as I spoke the name that had haunted me for years.
Christopher's eyes widened, color draining from his face. "Christian? You're certain?"
"Absolutely certain. I-I don't understand..." My hands shook as I held the document.
He was silent for a moment before nodding, his jaw tightening visibly. "Christian and I are twins." The words came out heavy, as though each one carried the weight of a complicated history.
"Twins?" The single word felt inadequate for the revelation it contained.
"Identical," he confirmed, his voice softening with what sounded like old pain. "We were inseparable as children, but as adults... Christian was always more aggressive, more ruthless. He saw business as warfare, people as assets or liabilities."
"Where is he now?" I asked.
"He died," Christopher said quietly. "Years ago. Car accident in the Swiss Alps." A shadow crossed his face as he spoke of his brother's death.
Understanding dawned in his eyes. "And you thought I was him. All this time, you thought I was Christian."
"You look identical. You have the same nickname. How could I have known?" I shook my head. "But it makes sense now—your kindness, your ethics, the way you treated me as a partner rather than a possession."
"Christian and I may have shared DNA, but we were very different men," Christopher said. "He believed the ends justified any means. I never did."
I laughed bitterly. "I've been fighting the wrong ghost. All this time, and I nearly ruined the life of someone who had nothing to do with my death."
"You couldn't have known," Christopher said gently.
I turned away, shame washing over me in waves. How could he ever forgive me? I had systematically attacked his company, manipulated him, married him under false pretenses—all for revenge against a crime his brother had committed in another life. I had nearly destroyed everything he'd built. No apology could possibly be enough.
I walked to the car and used the hood as a makeshift desk to sign my name beside Christopher's, officially ending our contract marriage.
When I turned around, I found Christopher kneeling on one knee, a small velvet box in his hand.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Starting over," he said simply. "Lara Reed, I love you. Not because of a contract or a business alliance, but because of who you are. Will you marry me? For real this time?"
I looked at the man before me—not the monster from my nightmares, but the partner who had stood beside me for a year, who had loved me even knowing I had tried to destroy him.
With a smile, I let the papers go. The mountain breeze caught them, carrying them over the cliff edge and into the valley below. The white sheets tumbled and danced in the air, growing smaller until they disappeared completely—like the ghosts of my past finally set free.
"Yes," I said, stepping into his embrace. "I will."
