Destined to Meet Again

After delivering the last takeout order of the night, I slumped against a wall and scrolled through my phone. A trending thread caught my eye.

*Confess a secret you'll take to the grave.*

The comment section was a cesspool of gossipstories about playboys juggling multiple women or confessions of near-manslaughter. But then, a familiar profile picture stopped my thumb dead.

He wrote: *"I won a family, friendship, and love with a single, well-intentioned lie."*

*"He was the senior mentor who brought me into the field. During a polar expedition, we were trapped in a white hell. After sustaining serious injuries, he fell into an ice cave."*

*"I couldn't let him drag the rescue team down. So, I told the rescuers he had deserted us, taking the supplies with him."*

*"He went down in history as a sinner to the scientific community and was stripped of all honors."*

The comments below were vicious. Strangers cursed the "mentor," and some were clamoring to dox him.

*"If I had to choose again, I would do the exact same thing."*

A smiling emoji followed the sentence.

It felt like a needle stabbing straight into my pupil.

His reply blew up instantly.

Joseph Cobb defended himself, claiming he prioritized the greater good: *"You don't understand. Every extra minute the rescue team stayed on that ice was a gamble with their lives."*

*"Call me selfish, but it was a choice between survival and sentiment."*

He claimed that as long as those closest to him understood, he had no regrets.

*"His parents have accepted me as their godson. For years, they've confided in me, saying my senior dragged me down, claiming that expedition was supposed to be my breakthrough, not his."*

*"The professionals on the team are all on my side. I'm about to receive the Medal of Meritwhy are you all so narrow-minded?"*

*"Yes, I married his wife. We truly love each other. He's deadshould Camila remain a widow for a ghost?"*

*"Besides, I raised his child as my own. What right do you have to judge me?"*

My chest seized. Each breath scraped like shards of glass. I traced the stump on my left hand where my finger used to be.

When Joseph Cobb kicked me into that ice cave, I had clung to the edge for dear life.

He used a knife to sever my finger.

I am that senior mentor. I am the one who brought him into the field.

I survived three days and three nights, frozen and starving, before a passing expedition team pulled me out. Then I fell into a coma, lingering in a vegetative state for years.

Sheer spite and the desperate need to see my family again dragged me back from the brink. But when I finally woke up three years later, the world had moved on without me.

I returned to my parents' home expecting tears of joy.

Instead, I was met with eyes as cold as the polar ice.

"Why did you come back?" my dad spat. "You should have died out there."

"I don't have a son like you. You're a disgrace to this family."

They called me selfish. They claimed they couldn't lift their heads in public because of my scandal. I tried to explain. I told them Joseph Cobb set me up, that he wanted to steal the resources and credit, that *he* was the one who pushed me into the pit.

But before I could finish, my wife stepped out of the house.

Camila Bradley. Her gaze was filled with nothing but disappointment.

"Do you know that for years, only Joseph kept looking for you? The unit gave up on you. Only he fought to keep your name on those merits."

Camila said my honors should have been stripped long ago. She claimed Joseph ran himself ragged for my sake, yet here I wasa parasite slandering his savior.

They drove me out. No matter how much I pleaded, my words hit a wall of disbelief.

For days, they treated me like I was invisible.

It wasn't until I missed my son so much that I secretly followed him to school that Camila finally exploded.

Her eyes were red with fury as she cornered me. "Do you have to let Joel's classmates know he has a father like you?"

She accused me of stealing Joseph's research, of using my seniority to oppress him, and of dealing him a ruthless blow when I allegedly ran off with the supplies.

"Joseph suffers from severe chronic hypothermia because of you," she hissed. "I'm begging youleave us alone. He is Joel's father now."

Camila looked ready to drop to her knees right there in the street. She screamed that I had been absent from Joel's life, so why couldn't I just disappear completely?

Tears streamed down her face. "Why did you have to come back?"

My heart felt numb. Encased in ice. My return had turned their calm waters into a chaotic storm.

I shook my head, tears blurring my vision, begging Camila to believe me.

The next second, something hard smashed into my face.

Joel had packed a dense snowball and hurled it at me with all his might.

"Traitor!" my son screamed. He demanded I kneel and apologize to Joseph Cobb.

"I didn't do it, Camila," I choked out. "We were husband and wife for so many yearswhy won't you trust me?"

"Where is the evidence, Henry Harding?" Her voice cut cold and sharp. "Show me the proof."

Nothing. I had nothing.

Camila scooped up Joel and walked away without looking back.

From that day on, I went mad looking for evidence.

I went to the unit to find my old teammates. They looked at me like I was a walking curse.

"Harrison," I pleaded.

"Henry, when we were trapped, I gave you my rations." Harrison Cobb avoided my eyes. "I didn't eat a single bite. You know the kind of man I am."

I had built this team with my own hands. I thought the bond of facing death together would count for something.

I never expected them to be the ones pushing me off the cliff.

"Henry, I'll tell you the truth," Harrison whispered, his voice trembling. "It was your wife. She begged us to sign the testimony."

He revealed that Camila had brought the fabricated testimony to seal my fate and transfer all credit to Joseph.

"Joseph is the organization's golden boy now. He's getting the medal later this year. Henry, you just... sigh."

Harrison's eyes were red. His hand shook as he gripped mine, pressing a wad of cash into my palm. "I'm sorry. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have made the money to treat my wife's illness. But... we have no choice."

He told me my entire family stood with Joseph. His knees buckled, and he looked like he wanted to kneel in apology.

I stopped him. I understood his desperation.

And I finally understood how deep the betrayal ran.

I walked down the road in a daze.

Memories of my life with Camila played in my mind. We were childhood sweethearts, the perfect couple in everyone's eyes.

When I first met Joseph Cobb, he was destitute. He stole money from classmates just to eat. I was working at his school then, and out of pity, I supported him.

Back then, Camila hated him. She said Joseph had "wolf eyes"too much white showing, untrustworthy. She forbade me from associating with him.

She said he reeked of poverty. The year I brought him home for New Year's dumplings, Camila was so angry she refused to come home.

I couldn't pinpoint when it changed. But slowly, Camila mentioned him more often.

She started calling him "Joseph" instead of "that kid." The meals she packed for my work began to include a portion for him. She even started ordering custom suits for him, styling him like a doll.

On our wedding anniversarythe last holiday before the polar expeditionI came home to find them.

Entangled. Drunk.

Outside, the world was buried in snow. Joseph was holding her, his body pressing into hers to warm her. Camila was trembling, sobbing into his chest.

*"I'm too old,"* she wept. *"I'm married, I have a childhow could I be worthy of you?"*

*"It's okay, Camila,"* Joseph whispered, stroking her hair. *"With me, you will always be a princess."*

That night, Camila came to bed late. She smelled of Joseph's cologne. She threw herself into my arms and cried for a long time.

She initiated intimacy, claiming she hadn't felt the spark of our marriage in ages. Later, she blamed me, cursing me for burying myself in research and neglecting her.

I swallowed my suspicions. I told myself they hadn't technically crossed the line.

I buried that secret deep in my heart.

I never expected Joseph to use it to deliver the fatal blow.

I thought finding evidence would fix everything. I thought it would let me return to the past.

I didn't expect the truth to push me into an even deeper abyss.

Perhaps Heaven took pity on me. During the year I spent scavenging for proof, the expedition team that saved me managed to repair my damaged voice recorder.

They told me to come pick it up.

I clutched the device like a lifeline. Inside was the recording of Joseph confronting me on the ice. It captured his confession, his plan to steal the supplies, everything.

I could finally vindicate myself.

As fate would have it, that day was Joel's birthday. Camila, surprisingly, called me.

"No matter what, you're still his biological father," she said stiffly. "You should come."

I didn't refuse. I even went to a barber to trim my hair and shave my ragged beard.

Looking at the aged, weary figure in the mirror, a pang of fear twisted in my gutfear that I would embarrass my son. I tidied myself up as best I could.

At the party, Joel poured me a glass of winea first. Camila sat nearby, smiling, urging him to call me "Dad."

But Joel froze. His eyes darted nervously to Joseph, as if seeking permission.

Acid rose in my throat.

"I only have one dadand he's not it!"

Joel wailed, tears bursting forth. It was clear Camila had pressured him. Joseph, sitting beside him, looked furious, making a show of wanting to discipline the boy.

"Henry is your biological father," Joseph chided, his voice dripping with fake benevolence. "You can't treat him like this, even if he did disgraceful things in the past."

"Dad, that traitor isn't my father! You don't need to defend him!"

Joel glared at me with pure hatred. Right there at the dinner table, my own son accused me.

He called me a selfish coward. A murderer. He pointed a finger at my nose and cursed me.

Joseph played the martyr perfectly. "Henry, you've been gone for years. The child isn't close to you. Don't take it to heart."

"Yes, Henry," Camila added, placing a hand on Joseph's arm. "After all, it was Joseph who raised him."

My parents frowned, their faces twisted in disgust. "A perfectly good birthday ruined. We told you he was a jinx," my dad sneered. "He hasn't been part of this family for a long time. We can't afford to lose face like this."

In a rage, they ordered me to leave.

Joseph stepped forward to play peacemaker. "It was a critical moment on the ice," he said, sighing. "If it were me, maybe I would have run too. It's just... Henry really intended to kill me back then."

"What nonsense are you spouting?" I roared, my patience snapping. "You really think I came empty-handed?"

In front of everyone, I pulled out the voice recorder.

Joseph's face went pale.

"This records exactly what happened. You wanted to steal the supplies. I tried to stop you. You pushed me into the pit."

"I know you don't believe me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed rage. "So let the facts speak."

The room held its breath as I pressed play.

Static hissed. Then a voice.

My voice, yes.

But the words were not mine.

*"Go die, Joseph. If you don't die, sooner or later you'll snatch my Camila away."*

Silence.

Then Joseph burst into tears. "I really have nothing going on with Camila! You misunderstood us!"

*Smack.*

Camila's hand connected hard with my cheek.

"What else do you have to say?" she screamed. "You're just jealous of Joseph! You have a filthy mind, so you see filth everywhere!"

"Security! Throw this trash out!"

They called me crazy. They said I tried to kill Joseph out of jealousy and was now spreading rumors about my wife.

As the security guards dragged me out, I stared at the recorder in my hand, my mind reeling.

I had no idea how the recording had been changed.

After that day, my life became a waking nightmare.

I was a pariah. A rat scuttling through shadows, flinching from every beam of light. The video from the birthday banquet had gone viral, and the internet crowned me its favorite monster. Death threats flooded my inbox. Strangers spat at me on the street. The stones weren't always metaphorical.

My parents, drowning in shame, had me committed.

The mental institution wasn't treatment. It was punishment. Electrodes on my temples. Voltage ripping through my skull until I forgot my own name.

A full year.

It nearly killed me.

When I finally clawed my way out, more ghost than man, I buried Henry Harding in an unmarked grave. I took a new name. Cut every tie. Disappeared.

The winter wind sliced at my face as I rode my scooter home. Winter Solstice. The streets were emptying, everyone rushing toward warmth and family.

A luxury sedan swerved into my path.

I slammed the brakes. My heart lurched into my throat.

A woman stepped out. Designer coat. Trembling hands.

Camila Bradley.

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, and for a momentjust a momentshe looked exactly like the girl I'd married.

"Mom and Dad made dumplings." Her voice cracked. "They want you to come home."

Years hadn't touched her beauty. If anything, she'd only grown more strikingporcelain skin, perfect posture, the kind of elegance money couldn't buy. But the woman wearing that face? A stranger.

Her gaze traveled down my worn delivery uniform, and something flickered across her expression. Pity. Disgust. Both.

"I didn't realize you'd fallen this far."

The golden boy. The top student. Reduced to fighting other drivers for food orders.

A bitter smirk tugged at my lips. "What's wrong? Looking down on the working class?"

"No, I just" She hesitated. "I saw the post. Joseph's post."

She explained that she'd finally seen the truth. That she'd been deceived all these years.

The hollow cavern in my chest didn't so much as flicker.

"Why bother acting for me, Camila?" My voice came out flat. Dead. "You were the one who swapped out my voice recorder."

Our recorders had been a matching set. A couple's gift from better days. During that critical period, she was the only one who could have touched it.

"No!" Her head shook violently. "We all thought you'd lost your mind! We were terrified that if the scandal kept escalating, you wouldn't survive it. We were trying to protect you"

"Protect me."

"I searched everywhere for your so-called evidence. I never found it. I thought you were hallucinating." Her voice climbed higher, desperate. "It was a critical period for Joseph's commendation. Mom and Dad decided to suppress it. They thought it was the only way to save you."

Tears carved silver tracks down her cheeks. "I'm sorry, Henry. I was wrong."

She reached for my arm.

I stepped back.

"Let me make it up to you," she pleaded. "Give Mom and Dad a chance to compensate you. And... Joel wants to see you."

*Joel.*

Static filled my ears. The old woundthe one I'd cauterized and buriedsplit wide open.

Back then, I had begged my family to believe me.

They were the first to twist the knife.

I didn't have parents like that. I didn't have a wife like that. And I sure as hell didn't have a son like that.

Camila was still talking, something about her "conscience awakening," about dragging me back for the holiday, when a furious voice exploded behind me.

"Well, well, Henry! No wonder I couldn't reach youyou're out here flirting with some woman!"

My blood ran cold.

"NoDaisy, listen"

Daisy Matthews stood with her hands planted on her hips, cheeks puffed out, eyes blazing with indignation.

My knees buckled.

"Wifey, I know I was wrong."

"*Wife?*" Camila's face drained of color. "You're *married?*"