Chapter 709

The promise of more gifts had the kids scattering like a flock of birds, rushing toward him with outstretched hands. Their boldness made it clear—Wade was no stranger here.

I sat up, smoothing my hair, still messy from the kids’ ambush, and wiped away their kisses. Wade approached, handing me a tissue. “These kids can be a handful.”

My face, damp. “They are, but they’re adorable,” I said with a smile. “Being around them makes you feel young again.”

My gaze drifted to where Xander and Yuna stood a little ways off, deep in conversation.

“Sometimes they drive you crazy,” Wade said lightly. “They’ve brought Yuna to tears more than once.”

I turned to him, catching the shift in his tone. His eyes flickered with guilt before he quickly looked away. I knew what he was trying to avoid, but I couldn’t help but ask, “Have you figured out how you feel about Yuna yet?”

“Yuna isn’t Narelle,” he said firmly, dodging the question. I got the message. He wanted it clear—he didn’t conflate Yuna with Narelle, even if Yuna carried her heart.

Since he set the boundary, I didn’t push. Instead, I asked, “Aren’t you curious why Narelle and I look alike?”

His eyes darted to my face, then quickly away. “What, are you her relative or something?”

I chuckled. “You guessed it.”

I explained my connection to Narelle, and Wade looked genuinely shocked. After a moment, he sighed. “If Narelle were here, she’d be so happy. She always said she felt lonely, like she didn’t have a sibling.”

If she were alive, we could have been like sisters. But life doesn’t let you have what you want without a fight.

When we finished talking about Narelle, I brought up sending Yuna to Kehlmark Royal Academy. Wade’s sudden silence was jarring.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” I asked. “Do you not want her to go? Are you worried she won’t adjust? Or is it something else?”

“It’s not that,” he said, then paused. “Have you ever noticed how strange the connections between people can be?”

I could see Wade was leading to something. “Alright,” I said, “What’s so strange about it?”

“Yuna has Narelle’s heart,” he began, “and because of that, a lot of her habits, even her interests, are just like Narelle’s. I asked her about it once, and she admitted that after the transplant, she started liking things she used to hate.”

He wasn’t wrong—Yuna had told me something similar before. Meeting his gaze, I asked, “Are you saying Narelle is still here? That she’s living on through Yuna?”

Wade exhaled deeply. “I don’t know. I don’t want to think that way, but sometimes, the way Yuna acts… it’s hard not to wonder.”

He trailed off, but I knew where his thoughts were headed.

“Does that bother you?” I asked.

He gave a small nod. “I want to separate them.”

That was the core of his struggle—he didn’t want Yuna to be a replacement for Narelle, but her similarities made it impossible to ignore.

“Why try to separate them?” I said softly. “Why not just accept them as one person? Wouldn’t that make it easier for you?”

“I’ve thought about it,” Wade admitted, his voice heavy. “But it’s not easy.”

“If you don’t want to keep torturing yourself, there’s another option,” I said, keeping my tone steady. “You could distance yourself from Yuna entirely. Let go of Narelle completely. Treat it as though she’s truly gone.”

The suggestion was brutal but honest. They say someone only truly dies when the people who love them start to forget. But Wade was trapped—he couldn’t separate his feelings for Yuna from the heart she carried. If he did, he’d keep suffering, and Yuna would sink deeper into a mess she might never escape.

Sometimes, the only way out is to make the hardest choice.