The perfect timing-time to let go (Book 3)

I dream of him. I dream of him every single night, as if my subconscious refuses to let him go, as if it’s trying to stitch together the pieces of him that reality already tore apart.

The dreams always start the same way—soft, warm, gentle. I see the good memories first. We’re laughing about something small and stupid. I hear his voice teasing me. I see us sitting close together, talking about nothing and everything like we used to when I still lived with him. Those moments feel like sunlight on my skin. Like home.

The sight of his face brings a rush of emotion that hits me so hard I almost gasp in the dream. That familiar pull, that longing that never died even after everything fell apart. The desire to be near him. To hear him speak. To watch the way his eyes lit up when he thought of something funny.

But the good memories never stay. They never stay. Just when I feel my heart settle—just when the warmth becomes unbearable—the dream shifts. The happiness dissolves like smoke. His smile flickers, fades. And then comes the memory. The real one. The one that keeps me awake long after I’ve opened my eyes.

The last memory I have of Colton.

Tonight, it was worse. Sharper. Because today is his funeral. And my mind, cruel as it is, knows exactly how to hurt me.

I wake up drenched in sweat, my breath ragged. I’ve lost count of how many nights I’ve relived the same nightmare. Weeks now, maybe longer. My dreams begin with sweetness and end with devastation. And the ending is always the same, because it’s not imagination. It happened. I lived through it.

I sit up in bed, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes, trying to stop the tears from spilling. It doesn’t work. It never does. I’ve cried enough tears to fill oceans these past weeks, and it still feels endless. But today… today I need to be strong. For everyone else who loved him. For everyone who feels the same hollow ache.

We all miss Colton. Life without him has lost color, turning gray and heavy and unfamiliar.

And worst of all, every night I dream of how he died.

And of what my mother said in the moments before.

Flashback

“Colton!” His name tore out of my throat the moment my eyes ripped away from my mother. He was all I saw—his body on the ground, the blood pooling beneath him, spreading too quickly. The world narrowed to nothing but him.

I dropped beside him, knees hitting the floor hard, but I didn’t feel it. I couldn’t feel anything except the terror twisting inside me.

Everything happening around us blurred into meaninglessness, but my mother’s voice cut through the chaos. Sharp. Cold. Detached.

“Celia, don’t be sad. He wasn’t even your perfect soulmate. I only tried to make you believe that. I helped you start liking each other.”

Her words didn’t make sense. They didn’t matter. They were dust compared to the sight of Colton bleeding out in front of me. I didn’t look at her. I couldn’t. I kept my focus on him—his face pale, his breathing shallow.

Instinctively, my power surged. Time froze. The world stilled. My mother’s footsteps stopped mid‑stride. Falling debris hung suspended in the air. Everything—everything except Colton.

For a second, hope sparked in me. Maybe if time stopped, the blood would stop too. Maybe I could give him a chance.

But his wound kept bleeding. I could stop time, but I couldn’t undo what had already happened.

“Colton…” I whispered, my voice shaking. His chest rose unevenly. He was fighting to stay awake. Fighting just to breathe.

This wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. He was Colton—gentle, kind, warm in ways I never knew I needed. He deserved to live more than anyone I’d ever met.

“Celia… it’s okay,” he murmured. His voice was thin, fragile. He lifted his hand to my cheek, his touch trembling. I grabbed his hand with both of mine, holding him as if I could anchor him to the world.

“No. You can’t die. Colton, I—” My voice broke, crumbling under the weight of everything I couldn’t say fast enough.

He smiled. A small, heartbreaking smile that told me he already knew.

“Shhhh,” he whispered. He was calming me, even then.

“Listen to me… okay?”

I nodded, leaning toward him, clinging to every second, terrified each one might be the last.

“What she said… it doesn’t matter to me,” he said softly, referring to my mother. His breath hitched, but he pushed through.

“Celia, I love you.”

The words stopped the world more thoroughly than my power ever could.

“I don’t care that we aren’t soulmates. I don’t care what she tried to do. I love you because… how could I not?” His voice wavered, but he kept going, desperate to give me everything he had left. “You make me smile even when I shouldn’t. Even when I tell the worst jokes. And when I walk into a room and you smile just for me… it’s the best feeling I’ve had in a long time.”

His eyes softened, even through the pain.

“I don’t regret any of it. Not falling for you. Not loving you. You’re my first love, Celia. And I don’t mind you being my last.”

The words shattered me. Completely. Because even though everything in my life was complicated, even though I didn’t understand half of my feelings anymore… I loved him too. My own way. Messy. Imperfect. Real.

“I love you too, Colton,” I cried, trying to wipe my tears so I could see him. So I could hold onto the sight of him for as long as possible.

He smiled again. That smile that always made everything feel brighter. For a moment—just a fleeting moment—the world felt soft again.

But it didn’t last. His breathing faltered. His grip weakened.

Panic clawed up my throat.

“Colton!” I begged. “Please, stay awake. Stay with me.”

He exhaled shakily and forced out one more whisper.

“That’s all I needed to know.”

His fingers threaded through my hair, gentle, loving. But the smile faded, replaced by pain he could no longer hide.

“There’s… something you need to know,” he said, struggling for breath. “That room. I went back. I found something… something important.”

He swallowed hard, fighting the darkness closing in around him.

“Go back there. Search the cabinets—the one in the right corner. I hid the key in the castle. It will… help you understand everything.”

“I promise,” I whispered, though the promise felt meaningless compared to the fear of losing him.

His eyes fluttered. His hand slipped from mine.

“Colton,” I begged, voice cracking, but his body sagged.

“I love you, Celia…” he breathed. “Tell Chen… and my mom… I’m sorry. And that I love them.”

He closed his eyes.

And this time, he didn’t open them again.

I shook him, desperate, broken, refusing to accept the truth that was already settling like ice in my bones.

But Colton was gone. Dead in my arms. Killed by my mother.

His lifeless body hung against me, heavy, cold. His blood soaked through my clothes, staining my hands, dripping onto the frozen world around us. The bleeding only stopped when his heart did.

When he left this world.