Reborn To Change My Fate-Chapter 264 - Two Hundred And Sixty Three

"Marissa."

Marissa stood frozen, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. Her hand trembled as she held the blade, the cold steel a heavy weight in her palm.

"Mari," the shadow whispered again.

The voice was thick with pain, a low rasp that vibrated in the small room. Marissa’s eyes softened instantly. The name—that specific nickname—belonged to only one person. The blade slipped from her numb fingers, hitting the floor with a sharp clank that echoed against the floorboards.

She moved closer, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She knew those eyes. Even through the slits of the dark mask, she recognized the deep, soulful brown that used to look at her with such warmth. But her mind screamed at her that it was impossible.

Am I finally losing it? she thought. Is this where my mind breaks?

With a shaking hand, she reached out. Her fingers brushed the coarse fabric of his mask. She gripped the edge and pulled it down, revealing his nose, then his lips, and finally his entire face.

It was Derek.

Marissa’s breath hitched. She gasped, her hands flying to her mouth to muffle a sob that threatened to tear out of her throat. She stepped back, her head spinning.

Am I actually losing touch with reality? she wondered, her eyes darting across his features. I’m seeing his face. I’m hearing his voice. Is this real, or am I dreaming? If I wake up now, I don’t think I’ll survive the heartbreak again.

Derek didn’t move. He stood there, looking at her with a face so filled with sadness it looked like it might shatter. He looked older, tired, and worn thin by whatever path he had walked.

Marissa wanted to reach out, but she hesitated. She feared her hand would pass right through him like smoke. Finally, she gathered her courage and touched his cheek. His skin was warm. It was real.

"You’re alive," she breathed, her voice barely a whisper. "You’re really alive."

Derek nodded slowly. He leaned his face into her palm, closing his eyes as if her touch was the only thing keeping him grounded. A long, shaky breath escaped him—a sound of pure relief.

"You’re alive," Marissa repeated, her voice gaining strength as the shock began to wear off. "I knew it. Deep down, I knew it. I knew you wouldn’t die easily. I knew I wasn’t crazy for feeling you were still out there."

"I’m sorry," Derek whispered.

The words acted like a spark in a room full of gasoline. Something snapped inside Marissa. The relief died instantly, replaced by a white-hot flare of rage. Two weeks of mourning, the sleepless nights—it all rushed back.

"How dare you!" she screamed.

Before he could react, she swung her hand and slapped him hard across the face. The sound was loud in the quiet room. Derek’s head snapped to the side, but he didn’t fight back.

"How dare you show your face to me again after all these months!" she cried, her chest heaving. "Do you have any idea what you did to me? You let people believe I was crazy! I sat in the dirt and cried for you! I lost appetite because of you! I stop thinking rationally because of you!"

Derek looked back at her, his cheek already turning a dull red. "I’m sorry, Mari. Please. Please forgive me."

"Forgive you?" She raised her hand again, her face contorted with fury. She wanted to strike him until her arm grew tired. She wanted him to feel a fraction of the pain she had felt every morning when she woke up and remembered he was gone.

But as she pulled her arm back, a sharp, searing pain shot through her side. She gasped, her face turning pale. The sudden, violent movement had ripped the stitches in her side. She looked down and saw the white bandage beneath her shirt quickly blooming with a bright, wet red.

"Ah!" she cried out, clutching her wrist, falling back against a table. She brought her hand down and looked at her palm; it was stained with her own blood. 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

Derek’s expression shifted from guilt to pure terror in a second. He took a step toward her, his hands reaching out.

"What’s wrong? Mari, you’re bleeding! Who hurt you? Who did this?"

Marissa shrank away from him, pressing her back against the wall. "Don’t touch me!" she spat, though her voice shook with physical pain. "You want to know who hurt me? You did! You are the one who hurt me, Derek. Every day you were gone, you were the one twisting the knife."

Derek froze. He looked at her bleeding palm, then at the tears streaming down her face. A look of utter self-loathing crossed his features. He didn’t try to explain or make excuses. Instead, he dropped to his knees on the hard floor before her.

"Then punish me," he said, his voice cracking. "I will accept any punishment. I deserve it. I deserve worse. If hitting me quells your anger, then do it. I won’t move."

Marissa watched him, her hand still pressed to her wound. "You think a slap fixes this?"

"No," Derek said. He looked at her with desperate eyes. "But I can’t stand to see you in pain because of me. You wanted to slap me? I will do it just tell me when to stop, and I’ll stop."

To her horror, Derek began to hit himself. He struck his own cheek with his palm, then again. He wasn’t holding back.

"Derek, stop it!" Marissa cried out.

He didn’t stop. He hit himself again, his eyes fixed on the floor, his jaw set in a mask of penance. "I left you," he muttered between strikes. "I let you suffer."

"Stop!" Marissa rushed forward, ignoring the stabbing pain on her hand. She sank to her knees beside him and grabbed his wrists, forcing his hands away from his face.

She looked at him, her eyes blurring with fresh tears. His cheek was swollen and dark red. The sight of him hurting himself was more than she could bear, regardless of how angry she was. She reached up, her fingers trembling, and gently caressed the bruise she had started.

"I’m sorry," she sobbed, her anger vanishing as quickly as it had arrived. "I shouldn’t have done that. I was just so angry... and so hurt... and I thought I was alone..."

She was rambling, the words tumbling out of her as she looked into his eyes. She saw the regret there, the love that hadn’t faded, and the exhaustion of a man who had been running for too long.

"I thought I lost everything," she whispered. "I..."

Derek didn’t let her finish. He reached out, his hands framing her face with a tenderness that made her heart ache. He leaned in and closed the distance between them, silencing her words with his lips on hers.