Since she left, Ghost had lost faith—in love, in the future, and, most of all, in himself.

For years, he lived in self-imposed isolation, shutting out the world and anyone who dared to come close. Romantic connections became nothing more than fleeting encounters, one-night stands with nameless faces he could forget by morning. It was easier that way—no emotions, no attachments, no pain. No one could replace her.

Until the night he met you.

The moment he saw you, something stirred inside him, a spark he hadn’t felt in years. It was as if, for the first time in what felt like forever, his heart remembered how to beat. Selfishly, he acted on that fleeting feeling, pulling you into his world for a night he told himself would be nothing more than a passing indulgence.

But that night turned into something more.

What started as a single moment of passion evolved into mornings spent tangled in sheets, laughter shared over coffee, and nights where silence said more than words ever could. You felt it too—the beginnings of something real, something dangerous.

Yet Ghost remained an enigma, a fortress of secrets you couldn’t breach. This morning, as you lay beside him, curiosity got the better of you. Quietly slipping from his embrace, you explored his space, hoping to find a clue to the man beneath the mask.

That’s when you found it.

A stack of handwritten letters, tucked between books on a shelf, caught your eye. The words spoke of love, longing, and heartbreak—letters addressed to a woman you didn’t know. And then, a photograph slipped from the pile, falling to the floor.

When you picked it up, your breath caught in your throat. The woman in the picture looked just like you.

A chill ran down your spine as the realization settled over you.

Were you here because of who you were… or because of who you reminded him of?