The Man I Watched Burn

A man with the same face as the boyfriend I'd watched get cremated a month before said to me: "If it's lost, let it go." Once, he'd called me his whole world.

Now he stood at an engagement party as the heir to a powerful family, telling me to stop clinging to him. Later, I really did let go, just like he wanted.

But he was the one who fell apart. Chapter 1 I watched my boyfriend get pushed into the cremation chamber with my own eyes.

A month later, he was the number one trending topic on the internet. [#WhenRomanceNovelsComeTrue: Two Power Families Unite, Engagement Ring Rumored at $18 Million] In the video, the engagement party was dreamy and lavish.

The man I'd been missing day and night had his arm linked with heiress Gwen Wentworth. They gazed into each other's eyes and danced.

Someone in the comments claimed his name was Alec Remington, heir to Norcastle Group, a rich kid from the very top.

He and the Wentworth heiress had grown up together, a perfect match in money and standing.

Before long, people stopped talking about the skyhigh ring and started talking about the groom's face.

By the end, the trending tag had bizarrely turned into #AlecRemingtonGaveMyBookBoyfriendAFace. A few minutes later, every trace of him had been scrubbed from the internet.

If my best friend Poppy didn't live on the front lines of social media, I might have missed it.

I'd saved the video and watched it a hundredsome times, gripping my phone so hard my fingers went white.

I sat slumped on the ground, staring blankly at the photo set into my boyfriend's headstone.

If I hadn't watched Brody being cremated with my own eyes, I never would have believed two people in this world could look exactly alike.

The only difference was that, outside of his uniform, Brody only liked white tees and baggy shorts.

He'd shuffle out in flipflops all the time and drag me off to grab food from the food trucks.

His favorite thing was hooking an arm around my neck and saying, "Babe, whatever you want to eat, your man's buying." The man in the video wore a customtailored suit.

He looked refined and cool, far out of reach. I knew he wasn't Brody. Brody always said I was his whole world. If he weren't dead, how could he not come find me?

But I still couldn't stop myself. I staked out the hotel entrance until late at night, when Alec finally walked slowly out, holding Gwen's hand.

He was all polished charm, smiling and exchanging pleasantries with people, while the sweet, pretty Gwen stood behind him. I was even more certain he wasn't Brody.

He seemed steady and reserved. Not like Brody, who always had a wicked little smile at the corner of his mouth.

But the sight of Alec lowering his head to gently pull her wrap closed still stung. I drifted for a second.

When I came back to myself, I was already holding his sleeve, and the name slipped out before I could stop it. "Brody." I watched him turn toward me, and it felt like a whole lifetime had passed.

That handsome, achingly familiar face showed nothing but a stranger's distance. The moment our eyes met, countless moments of Brody and me flashed through my mind.

Him after a workout, wiggling his butt and flexing his muscles in front of me. Him refusing to get out of bed, whining until I let him hold me and doze back off.

Him grumbling and cursing out loud while his arms held me tight, not letting me take a single step away.

And last, him before he left on assignment, holding me and getting all mushy. "Babe, when I get back, let's do engagement photos.

Make me official." I waited, and what came was the news that he'd died in the line of duty.

The next time I saw him, death was already between us. "Security." The cool male voice pulled me back to reality. Two men in black, one on either side, asked me to leave.

I never meant to bother them. "Sorry." I pulled my hand back awkwardly and took one last, longing look at him. "Congratulations on your engagement." With that, I turned to leave, and out of the corner of my eye, I happened to catch sight of his hand.

Chapter 2 In that instant, it was like being struck by lightning. There was a scar on the back of his hand, exactly like Brody's.

The scar on the back of Brody's hand had a very particular shape, because I'd bitten him there once, and then our dog had accidentally bitten him in the same spot.

I stood still and took a long, careful look at the Alec in front of me. Only then did I notice a faint scar on his left eyebrow too.

Once, on the Fourth of July, Brody had set off fireworks to cheer me up and singed his eyebrow, leaving a scar just like that one.

His right earlobe had a small raised bump of flesh, too. Once, Brody had begged me to cut his hair.

I was busy bingeing a show and nicked his earlobe, and an extra little bit grew there afterward.

If the same face was a coincidence, were the scars coincidences too, in the same places, with the same shapes?

String all those coincidences together, and the answer was right there, ready to break the surface. I didn't know how to begin. My voice choked in my throat.

Was I supposed to ask how he'd come back to life?

Was I supposed to ask why he was alive and hadn't told me? "Brody, why?" I took a deep breath, fighting hard to hold back the tears.

He adjusted the wrap around Gwen at his side and didn't even spare me a glance.

He told security coldly, "Please see this lady out." Gwen, looking pained for me, tugged at his arm and turned to me. "Do you need help?

Do you want me to call your family for you?" I stared at Brody, tears welling in my eyes. "I've lost the love of my life.

Can you help me find him?" The air went silent for a long moment. Everyone looked at me like I was out of my mind. Only his eyes held something churning under the surface.

After a long while, he spoke, his voice a little hoarse. "If it's lost, let it go." Then he turned and said something to the bodyguard beside him, and without looking back, he shielded Gwen into a Bentley and was gone.

I stood where I was as my vision blurred more and more. Seeing that, the two men in black moved to pull me away.

I spoke coldly. "I'll walk myself." The moment I turned around, I couldn't hold back the tears anymore.

I hadn't gone far when someone caught up with me, holding a man's overcoat. "Ma'am, it's cold. Please put this on." I ignored him and kept walking.

I used to think nothing but death could separate us. Only now did I know that not loving enough could do it too. The deep love I'd believed in had all been a lie.

Or maybe he did love me back then. It just didn't count for much next to a massive fortune.

Brody, if you want to throw away everything from the past and start over, then I'll give you what you want.

From now on, you walk your road of wealth and power, and we owe each other nothing. That night, I had a nightmare.

Someone handed me a bag and said it held Brody's will and a letter he'd written me. In the will, he'd left everything to me, including a condo his adoptive father had left him.

I ran like a madwoman to the hospital and clung to the black body bag, refusing to let go, but someone kept pulling me away. Someone urged in my ear, "Don't unzip it.

Let him keep some dignity." I watched helplessly as he was carried into the funeral home's hearse.

By the time I caught up at the funeral home, he was already dressed and lying in an open casket. Brody had no family. Only me.

I was going to stay with him and see him through his last stretch in this world. I sat beside his casket for three days and three nights.

He once said he'd protect this whole city, and me along with it. But my poor Brody. No one even came to mourn him.

Before long, a staff member stood in front of me and said quietly, "Ma'am, it's time to say goodbye." Chapter 3 I couldn't cry. I just looked numbly at the man lying in the casket.

All of it felt so absurd. He'd been talking about proposing right before he left home. How could he just be gone like that? When I woke up, my pillow was soaked. Life had to go on.

I wandered around the place. There were traces of him everywhere. Everything was still exactly where it had been the day he left.

His big slippers were still by the front door, his belt and uniform still hanging there.

His game controllers were scattered across the TV stand, his basketball sat in the corner, his toothbrush was in the bathroom, and half the closet was his clothes… I kept feeling like he'd just gone away on a long trip.

His adoptive father, Russ, had left this condo to him, and he'd left it to me. We'd put every single thing in it together, a little at a time.

I still remembered how he'd pestered and begged me for a whole year to get me to move in with him.

He started nagging me to pack a month early, and when he couldn't stand watching me stall anymore, he came over to my place every day and packed for me himself.

The day I moved in, he didn't let me lift a finger the whole time.

He was dead tired, but that night he still carried me to bed and had his way with me over and over, calling it a celebration.

Starting from the front door, barefoot, I walked through the place one more time. Our past kept replaying in front of my eyes. Him jealous because a coworker was pursuing me.

We fought all the way home, and the second we got in the door, he pinned me against the entryway cabinet and kissed me.

Him holding me on the couch watching horror movies, and every time it got good, he'd yelp and burrow into my arms.

Him saying liver and onions was the thing he hated most in the whole world, and still going into the kitchen and holding his nose to make it for me whenever I wanted it.

Him saying the bedroom was his favorite room in our home, because that was where I let myself go the most. All those memories made my heart ache dully. I took a deep breath.

If I was going to cut ties, I'd cut them clean. I spent a whole day packing all my things into three big boxes. I took down every photo on the wall.

The place was spotless again, but it felt a little strange. To take my mind off things, the moment Poppy asked me to a movie, I said yes.

I took a few cold pills before we left, and I was nodding off before the movie even started.

Of all the movies she could have picked, Poppy chose the loudest gunfight flick there was. A few minutes in, my head was pounding like someone was hitting it with a hammer.

I told Poppy sorry and planned to go wait for her outside.

Halfasleep, I wandered into the theater next door, where nothing was playing, and passed out the moment I touched a recliner. The theater was very quiet, and very dark.

I dreamed of Brody again. He pressed his forehead to mine. "Nadia, I'm sorry." I didn't know why, but I actually heard heartbreak in the tremble of his voice.

But wasn't he the one who chose to give me up?

He held me so tight, buried his face in the crook of my shoulder, and took a deep breath. "I can't hold on much longer." His voice by my ear was low and full of pain.

Soon after, I felt something cold against the side of my neck. I tried hard to open my eyes and look at him, but it was like sleep paralysis. No matter what, I couldn't open them.

I felt his hot breath, his warm, thin lips lingering and moving over mine. Tears slid from the corners of my eyes.

I struggled and murmured, "It was you… who didn't want me." When I woke up again, Poppy was feeling my forehead, her face full of worry. "Nadia, you're not running a fever, are you?

Your face is all hot." I pushed myself up to sit. "When you came in, did you see anyone else?" The moment I spoke, my voice came out unusually hoarse.

Chapter 4 "No." So it really was just a dream.

She chattered about the movie, waving her hands around, and dragged me all the way to the restroom. "Wait for me, I really have to go." Standing in front of the stall, she glanced at me. "Hey, Nadia, your lipstick's smeared all over your face.

Wipe it off, quick." I looked in the mirror without thinking. The me in the mirror had messy hair, slightly swollen lips, and lipstick smudged onto her face.

After the movie, I said I wasn't feeling well and went home. I ordered takeout by myself. I sat on the couch, staring into space.

When the knock came, I opened the door without a second thought. The next second, everything went black, and I lost consciousness. When I woke up again, I was tied to a chair.

A man in a delivery driver's uniform, wearing a mask, sat on the floor with his long legs casually bent. Photos of Brody and me were scattered all over the floor in front of him.

I looked at him coldly and didn't struggle. "Oh, you're awake." He walked over, bent down close, and studied me carefully. "Since you're awake, let the show begin." The voice changer in the mask let out a warped laugh.

He took out his phone and sent a video call request. "Mr. Remington. Or should I call you Brody?" On the screen, Brody's face was expressionless, his eyes indifferent