Chapter 1
**A New Beginning** “Ding ding ding—” Elanor Thorn rolled over in bed, slapping the snooze button. Ugh, why did that thing have to go off now? She was in a deep sleep, drifting through a dreamless void, only to be jolted back to reality. The moment the alarm stopped, she was ready to sink back into slumber. But just then, she heard her mother’s voice calling from outside her bedroom door, “Elanor, hurry up and get out of bed!” Elanor’s heart dropped. No, it couldn’t be—her mother? Her mother was supposed to be… With a swift motion, Elanor jumped out of bed and bolted into the hallway. There stood Rowena Thorn, squeezing toothpaste onto her brush. For a fleeting second, Elanor thought she might be dreaming, so she pinched herself hard, biting down on the sharp metallic taste of her own blood. Rowena turned to her with a bemused expression. “What are you standing there for? Come wash up! If your father sees you like that, he won’t let you move out!” At that, Elanor froze. If she remembered correctly, today was the day she was supposed to leave for her new apartment. But that wasn’t how things had turned out in the end. How could she explain this? Was it a dream, or had she truly died and come back to life? Another deep pinch confirmed her suspicions; this was real, not a figment of her imagination. But what happened? Why was she back six years in time? Had she simply dreamed away a lifetime? Rowena caught the bewildered look on her daughter’s face, mistaking it for illness. She reached out to feel her forehead, worry etched across her features. “Sweetheart, are you okay?” “I’m fine.” Elanor looked away, avoiding her mother’s gaze as she hurried to the bathroom. She grabbed the toothbrush Rowena had set out, the familiar routine grounding her. After brushing her teeth and washing her face, Elanor applied her skincare routine before padding to the kitchen for breakfast. Meanwhile, Rowena had wandered into Elanor’s bedroom, sorting through her packed boxes. Once Elanor finished eating and stood at the front door, watching her mother bustling about, she said, “Mom, I don’t think I’m moving after all.” Rowena turned and chuckled, her hands on her hips. “You were the one who was so eager to leave, and now you’ve changed your mind? Your dad will definitely have something to say about this.” Elanor’s heart sank. She knew very well why she wanted to move out; it was all about wanting a life of her own with him. But after this second chance, could she really trade her independence for the same love that had once left her shattered? Following her mother into the bedroom, Elanor helped sort through her things. If fate had gifted her another shot at life, she resolved to reevaluate everything she had overlooked in her previous years. Once the boxes were finally packed, Rowena drove Elanor to her new apartment, excitedly rearranging furniture and setting the place up. After they finished decorating, Rowena wiped the sweat from her brow and smiled at her daughter. “It’s your big moving day! Let’s go out and celebrate.” Elanor wrapped her arms around Rowena’s neck, grinning. “Sounds great, but this one’s on me.” Just then, her phone buzzed, stealing her attention. She glanced down and felt her pulse quicken. The screen displayed her calendar; today was supposed to be a celebration with him. She’d even set a reminder to make sure she wouldn’t forget. Noticing the shift in her daughter’s expression, Rowena’s eyes softened with understanding. “Well, why don’t you go take care of that? I’ll head home and fix dinner for your father. We can celebrate together another time, okay?” Elanor forced a smile, feeling both exhilarated and hollow as she faced the turning point of her life. Armed with the wisdom of her past, she prepared to navigate this new journey—one that held the promise of love, discovery, and perhaps a glimpse of a brighter future.
Chapter 2
**The Date** Elanor Thorn's heart sank, pricked by the realization that she had been so wrapped up in her new relationship that she’d neglected her mother, Rowena Gray. “I’m sorry, Mom. I promise I’ll take you out for a nice dinner soon.” Rowena pinched Elanor’s cheek affectionately, her smile warm. “I’ll hold you to that, sweetie.” After saying her goodbyes, Elanor decided to treat herself. She stopped by a local salon for a wave hairstyle and a refreshing facial. Once back home, she slipped into a black dress with butterfly sleeves that hugged her figure and danced around her legs in layers of ruffled elegance, accentuating her toned limbs. As she fixed her hair, Elanor caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and felt a fleeting disconnection. Had she really been reborn, or was this just a fever dream? If it was a second chance, perhaps she could rewrite her past. If it were merely a nightmare, did it serve as a warning? The clock announced the time with a series of chimes, pulling Elanor back to reality. She patted her face, shaking off the thoughts, and threw on a cream-colored coat before grabbing her purse and heading out the door. Hailing a cab, she instructed the driver toward Lioncrest Inn, her heart racing with anticipation. “Excuse me—” a smooth, deep voice startled her from behind. Elanor turned to the side, avoiding the path of Robert Miller, a man she'd barely met, but whose presence still sent a ripple of tension through the air. In her effort to sidestep him, her heel got caught in a grating on the sidewalk. Frantically, she pried at her shoe, but it wouldn’t budge. “Hey, wait up!” she called out. Robert glanced back, his expression icy and dismissive. His gaze felt like a dagger, and her words vanished in her throat as she watched him walk away, leaving her feeling foolish. As soon as he was out of earshot, frustration boiled over. “What’s the point of being good-looking if you’re a jerk? All that glitter… and no gold underneath,” she muttered, cursing her luck. A few minutes later, Elanor was staring at her broken heel, on the verge of tears. Just her luck! She couldn’t remember having a mishap like this at Lioncrest Inn before. Was she really going to have to walk barefoot into the restaurant? Just then, like a twist of fate, a waiter approached. “Ma’am, is your heel stuck?” Henry Miller, he introduced himself with a kind smile. Elanor felt a sense of relief wash over her. “Yes! My shoe is caught, and now it’s broken…” Henry chuckled softly and retrieved a small bag filled with shoes from behind him. “A guest earlier asked me to offer you a few options to try on.” She blinked at him in amazement. Could it really be…? “Wait, was it that guy? The tall one?” Henry nodded, a glint in his eye. “Yes, he left these for you.” Elanor selected a pair of heels and slipped them on. As she reached for her wallet, ready to pay, Henry shook his head. “The gentleman took care of it already.” Surprised, she smiled, her annoyance dissipating. “Well, thank him for me.” Perhaps there was a nugget of decency beneath that arrogant exterior after all. Settled in the Private Hall of Lioncrest Inn, Elanor glanced at the clock on the wall. If her memory served her right, Alaric Sterling would probably be running late… again. Half an hour, maybe. With a mix of anticipation and apprehension, she adjusted her dress, preparing for whatever the evening might bring.
Chapter 3
**Let’s Get Married** When Alaric Sterling stepped into The Private Hall, he spotted Elanor Thorn already seated and perusing the menu, her bright eyes fixed intently on him. “Sorry I’m late,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I got caught up with a client.” He flashed her an apologetic smile, hoping it would soften her mood. Elanor offered him a slight smile as she lifted her glass of red wine, taking a thoughtful sip that seemed to anchor her deeper in contemplation. This was just the beginning. If their relationship continued along this path, it wouldn’t be long before she grew accustomed to his habitual tardiness—always with an excuse at the ready: meetings, last-minute deadlines, or even an occasional failure to remember where they were supposed to meet. Every time he showed up late, his expression a mask of regret, she’d pretend to fume, toss her hair, and give him the cold shoulder. But in the charade of their romance, she was always the one left waiting, never the one to walk away. The silence stretched between them, and Alaric felt the weight of it settle uncomfortably on his shoulders. He noticed the subtle change in Elanor’s appearance. “You changed your hair. I liked it better straight,” he said, attempting to fill the void. Elanor ran her fingers through her loose waves, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes. She knew he preferred straight hair; she’d styled it that way for so long, almost like a uniform in trying to please him. But lately, she craved a shift not just in appearance but in their entire dynamic. Whether it was for better or worse, she was ready to try something new. “Does it look bad?” She grinned, mischief shining through. “It’s not that,” he muttered, a scowl creeping across his face. Something felt off. Maybe it was really the hair that had thrown him off-balance. Was a single hairstyle enough to change everything? Truth be told, those waves suited Elanor; they made her appear enchanting, almost magnetic. This realization tightened something in his chest. He was acutely aware of how beautiful she was, but he never wanted her to flaunt it in front of others. That spark in her, this sudden shift, ignited a fleeting sense of jealousy. “I still think you look better with straight hair.” Elanor decided that this conversation had run its course; she wouldn't compromise her style for a man any longer. “How about you try the steak I ordered? Trust me, it pairs perfectly with this wine.” Alaric nodded, relieved to change the subject. He cut into the steak, taking a bite and washing it down with a sip of wine. “Yeah, this is really good.” Elanor studied him quietly as her mind wandered back to their last dinner together—steak, wine, and a heavy heart. Everything had tasted gourmet, yet there was a bitter aftertaste that lingered in her memory. “Alaric, let’s get married,” she said suddenly, her voice a quiet tremor that seemed to hang in the air. His fork clattered against his plate as a piece of steak fell, forgotten in the shock of her words. “Are you insane? We’re not even thirty!” His appetite vanished in an instant. Just days ago he’d bragged to his friends about how understanding Elanor was—never pushy, never demanding. And then she drops this bombshell on him. “Plus, our careers are just starting. We should at least wait until we achieve something first.”
Chapter 4
Elanor Thorn leaned back against the chair, her gaze fixed on Robert Miller, recalling how just a few years later, he would be at the top of Riverton’s business scene, the perfect prince in Hannah’s eyes and the idol Alaric wanted to emulate. A bittersweet smile ghosted her lips as she thought of it all. “Marriage and career don’t have to conflict,” she said finally, her voice steady, even as her heart raced. “If you don’t want to marry me, then maybe we should just break up.” No more letting him slide, no more pushing her own feelings aside. After all, hadn’t someone once said that marriage was the graveyard of love? A love without marriage would just fade away, and hadn’t she already learned that lesson the hard way in her past? Alaric Sterling shot up from his seat, his eyes boring into Elanor with an intensity that made her heart flutter uneasily. “You think you can threaten me with a breakup? Elanor Thorn, go ahead—break up if you want. The world keeps spinning, whether I’m in it or not.” His words landed like a punch, unexpected and cruel. Elanor felt the color drain from her face; moisture gathered in her dark eyes, a sharp twist of pain settling in her chest. They’d fought before, had their moments of talking about separation, but never had it felt this serious, this raw. Alaric’s words cut deeper than she could have imagined. As soon as the words left his mouth, regret washed over Alaric. He hadn’t intended to sound so callous; he was just caught up in the heat of the moment. Apologizing felt impossible, though, like admitting defeat, so instead he grabbed his jacket and hurried out. A little space would do them good, he thought. He’d let the dust settle, and once everything calmed down, he could sweet-talk her back into his arms. Elanor watched as his figure disappeared from view, staring down at the uneaten steak on the table, her tears spilling over. She was so naïve to think things might end differently. The truth was, Alaric would never marry her, no matter how much she wished it. Ten minutes passed, and once she assured herself Alaric wasn’t coming back, Elanor got up, paid the bill, and left the Lioncrest Inn behind. At two in the morning, her phone buzzed. Groggy and still rattled, Elanor squinted at the screen: Bridget Stone. Her hand trembled as she picked it up. If there was anyone who mattered to her besides her parents and Alaric, it was Bridget. “Bridget,” she spoke softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “What’s up?” On the other line, Bridget paused, sounding taken aback. Those who knew Elanor knew she was a morning grouch, especially if she hadn’t had enough sleep. But tonight was different—she was gentle, concerned, and it surprised Bridget. “Elanor, you need to get to Silvermoon Tavern right now. There’s a fight…” Before Bridget could finish, a scream erupted from the phone, a frantic sound that sent a chill down Elanor’s spine. The call abruptly cut off, leaving only the sound of disconnect beeping. Elanor’s heart raced wildly. Panic flooded through her as she tried to call back, only to be met with Bridget's phone switched off. The unease twisted tighter in her stomach; she wasted no time dialing 911 before hastily grabbing her clothes and rushing out the door toward Silvermoon Tavern.
Chapter 5
The Earth Is Round When Elanor Thorn arrived at the Silvermoon Tavern, a police car screamed past her. She fumbled for her phone, trying to call Bridget Stone. “Bridget, where are you right now?” The call connected, and Elanor exhaled in relief. In fights like these, it was always the girls who suffered the most. “Elanor, we’re at The Swan's Rest,” Bridget answered, her voice sounding drained. “It's the motel behind the bar.” Elanor frowned. Why on earth would they go to a motel? “Are you guys alright?” “Yeah, we’re fine,” Bridget replied, her tone more irritated than relieved. “Thank God we ran into a pro tonight, or it could've gotten really messy.” Elanor fell silent, unsure who Bridget’s 'pro' might be, but anyone who could shake off the cops clearly had some pull. Reaching The Swan's Rest, Elanor made a beeline for Bridget’s room. As soon as she stepped inside, she noticed two young men in the corner, both sporting various bruises. “Bridget, what on earth happened?” Bridget’s eyes glistened with tears at the sight of Elanor, and she recounted everything that had gone down that night. Initially, she and a couple of friends were just having a good time at Silvermoon Tavern. Things took a turn when Bridget and a friend headed to the restroom. On their way back to the private lounge, they encountered a drunk who wouldn’t take no for an answer. In a fit of anger, Bridget slapped the guy, which allowed them to escape. Back in their booth, Bridget thought the whole ordeal was behind them. But as they stepped out of Silvermoon Tavern, they were confronted again. “And then what?” Elanor asked, her brows knitting together. “Luckily, a military officer happened to stroll by and rescued us. The cops just arrived and took everyone else away,” Bridget said, glancing nervously at Elanor. Elanor rubbed her temples, weighing whether to be grateful for Bridget’s good fortune or scold her for drawing trouble on an otherwise fun night. “So now, why are you at a motel?” Bridget’s expression shifted to one of embarrassment as she hesitated before answering. “The officer was drunk, and it felt wrong to just leave him. Plus, I have an interview tomorrow, and my friends have work…” Elanor clenched her jaw, already anticipating what Bridget was going to say next. “Bridget—” “Please, Elanor, I’ve already booked a room next door. Just keep an eye on him, okay? He just saved us, and we can’t do that to him…” What could Elanor say? Growing up, she could count on one hand the number of times she turned down Bridget's pleas. After Bridget left, Elanor approached the bed for a better look at the officer. To her surprise, he was the same guy she had bumped into a few days ago at the Lioncrest Inn. At that moment, Elanor couldn’t help but feel that the world truly was small, not just round but absurdly tiny. By midnight, Elanor finally opened her bleary eyes. She figured the guy next door was likely awake by now—if he hadn’t already snuck out. But out of courtesy, she knocked on the door to check if he was still there. The door swung open, revealing the man in a bathrobe, looking intently at her with furrowed brows. Elanor felt her cheeks flush. “Uh, I just wanted to thank you for saving my friend last night.”
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