Chapter 7: Dinner, Doubts, and Dangerous Memories

The following evening arrived with a calm breeze that swept through the city streets. As the sun slowly disappeared behind the skyline, Beatrice stood in front of her bedroom mirror, adjusting the sleeves of a light blue dress. It was elegant without being extravagant, exactly the kind of outfit she felt comfortable wearing.

She wasn't preparing for an official family gathering or a business dinner.

This was simply dinner with Nathaniel.

Strangely enough, she found herself looking forward to it.

Not because she felt pressured.

Not because she was trying to impress him.

But because every conversation they shared felt genuine.

Her mother knocked gently before entering.

"You look beautiful," Mrs. Layton said with a warm smile.

"Thank you, Mom."

"Are you nervous?"

Beatrice thought for a moment before smiling.

"A little."

"That's a good sign."

"Why?"

"Because nervousness means you're beginning something new—not repeating something old."

Those words stayed with Beatrice long after she left the house.

Outside, Nathaniel was already waiting beside his dark blue sedan.

The moment he saw her, he stepped forward and opened the passenger door.

"Good evening," he greeted politely.

"You look wonderful."

Beatrice smiled.

"Thank you."

"You clean up rather well yourself."

Nathaniel chuckled.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

The drive to the restaurant was peaceful.

Unlike George, Nathaniel never checked his phone every few minutes.

His attention remained completely on the conversation.

"I've been meaning to ask," he said.

"Do you still paint?"

Beatrice looked surprised.

"How did you know I paint?"

"Grandfather mentioned your art collection once."

"He said your grandfather believed you had real talent."

A soft smile crossed her face.

"I haven't painted much lately."

"Life became... complicated."

"Then perhaps you should start again."

"Why?"

"Because people shouldn't abandon the things that make them happy."

His answer warmed her heart more than she expected.

In her previous life, George had laughed whenever she spent time painting.

He called it childish.

Nathaniel encouraged her without hesitation.

The restaurant overlooked the river, its large glass windows reflecting thousands of city lights dancing across the water.

It wasn't the most expensive restaurant in town.

It was simply beautiful.

Exactly the kind of place Beatrice would have chosen herself.

"I hope you like it," Nathaniel said as they took their seats.

"It's one of my favorite places."

"It's perfect," Beatrice replied honestly.

Dinner passed naturally.

They spoke about childhood memories, favorite books, family traditions, and future dreams.

For the first time in years, Beatrice laughed without forcing herself.

Nathaniel noticed.

"You have a beautiful smile," he said quietly.

She looked away, slightly embarrassed.

"Thank you."

After a brief silence, Nathaniel became unusually serious.

"There's something I've wanted to ask you."

"Go ahead."

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

"Alright."

"Why did you choose me?"

The question finally arrived.

Beatrice had expected it.

She lowered her eyes toward the untouched dessert sitting between them.

"Because I trust you."

"But we barely know each other."

"Sometimes character speaks louder than familiarity."

"And George?" Nathaniel asked carefully.

"Did something happen?"

For several seconds she remained silent.

"Let's just say..."

"I finally realized that loving someone isn't enough if they don't value you."

Nathaniel nodded.

"That's understandable."

"I won't ask any more questions."

"Not until you're ready."

His patience once again impressed her.

Meanwhile, only a few blocks away, George sat inside his office despite the late hour.

Stacks of paperwork covered his desk.

He hadn't read a single page.

Instead, he stared absentmindedly at the city lights outside.

Another memory surfaced without warning.

This time it was clearer than ever.

He saw Beatrice standing in front of him wearing a wedding dress.

She looked incredibly happy.

He...

Didn't.

The memory shifted.

A heated argument.

Harsh words.

Beatrice crying.

His own voice accusing her of ruining someone else's life.

"No..."

George grabbed his forehead as a sharp pain shot through his head.

"Why do these memories feel so real?"

Just then his office door opened.

"You're still here?"

It was his cousin Edward.

"Everyone went home hours ago."

"I know."

"Something wrong?"

"Edward..."

"Do you believe people can remember another life?"

Edward laughed.

"You've been watching too many movies."

"Seriously."

"No."

"That's impossible."

George forced a smile.

"You're probably right."

But deep inside...

He wasn't convinced.

Back at the restaurant, Nathaniel and Beatrice stepped outside after dinner.

The river reflected the moonlight beautifully.

"Would you like to walk for a while?" Nathaniel asked.

"I'd love to."

They walked slowly along the riverside promenade.

Street musicians played soft melodies nearby while couples strolled hand in hand.

"Can I ask you something?" Beatrice said.

"Of course."

"You've never asked about the inheritance."

"Most people would."

Nathaniel smiled.

"Because I'm marrying you."

"Not Grandfather's fortune."

"If he changed his will tomorrow, my answer wouldn't change."

Beatrice stopped walking.

She looked at him quietly.

"You really mean that, don't you?"

"Every word."

For a brief moment, emotion filled her eyes.

She quickly looked away before he could notice.

Across the street, hidden behind the dark windows of a parked black sedan...

George watched everything.

He had followed them without even realizing why.

Seeing Beatrice smiling beside Nathaniel felt strangely familiar.

Painfully familiar.

Then another memory struck him.

This time he heard actual words.

"George..."

"Please believe me..."

"I never betrayed you..."

The voice belonged to Beatrice.

His breathing became uneven.

He suddenly remembered himself turning away from her.

Cold.

Unforgiving.

Cruel.

"No..."

His hands began shaking.

"What did I do...?"

Across the river, Beatrice suddenly paused.

Without knowing why, she felt someone watching her.

She slowly turned toward the opposite side of the street.

For just a brief second...

Her eyes met George's through the windshield.

Neither of them moved.

Neither spoke.

But in that silent moment...

Both realized the past was no longer content with remaining buried.