Bye-Bye Jerk, Hello Mr. Right

“Huh?” Mr. Yule blinked at me, surprised, then turned to his wife. After a moment, he nodded. “Alright, thank you, R–Rea.”

“It’s really no trouble. Honestly, I’ve been meaning to visit you,” I admitted, guilt creeping in. Wade had given me their address weeks ago, but I kept putting it off.

Now, I couldn’t help but wonder if things might’ve been different if I’d reached out sooner. Maybe they wouldn’t have spent days terrified before finally going to the police.

The drive to their home was quiet, neither of them saying much. But I felt Mrs. Yule’s eyes on me, and it wasn’t just a glance. She was searching for something, seeing me through the lens of her memories of Narelle.

When we arrived, I insisted on walking them up to their apartment. I needed to make sure they were safe.

Mr. Yule stopped near the front door, pointing to a spot on the ground. “See those cigarette butts? They’re from the guy who’s been harassing us.”

“Don’t touch anything,” I said firmly. “Leave it exactly like this until the police can come and collect evidence.”

He nodded, unlocking the door and stepping aside to let me in. “Please, come in. Sit for a while.”

Thesitated, feeling a little awkward about showing up empty–handed, but stepped inside.

“Have a seat. I’ll get you some water,” he offered, his tone warm despite everything. All content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

“There’s no need. I’m fine, really,” I said quickly, waving it off. “Let’s just talk for a bit.”

“That won’t do,” he said, already moving toward the kitchen. “Wait a moment. I’ll make you some honey pomelo tea. Narelle loved it.” His voice softened. “Every year, I’d make it myself. It’s just a shame she can’t enjoy it anymore.”

His words hit hard, and I couldn’t bring myself to refuse. He gently motioned for Mrs. Yule to join him, probably to keep her from saying something too emotional.

Sure enough, as they busied themselves in the kitchen, their hushed voices drifted out.

“Honey, stop looking at her like that. You’ll scare her. She’s not Narelle,” Mr. Yule murmured gently.

“But why does she look so much like Narelle?” Mrs. Yule whispered, her voice shaking.

“There are so many people in the world who look alike,” he said, trying to sound logical. “You’ve seen those celebrity look–alike shows–they’re practically identical.”

“Honey, can’t we just ask her to visit more often?” Her voice broke, filled with yearning. “It’s like having our daughter alive again…”

Her words stabbed at something deep inside me. Without even realizing it, I silently promised myself that I’d visit them more.

While they prepared the tea, I wandered the room, taking it all in. Their apartment was small but immaculate, every corner organized with care. A piano stood in one corner, draped with a dust cloth, and perched on top was a gleaming trophy.

Above the piano hùng a framed photograph. I stepped closer, my curiosity piqued.

The picture showed a couple smiling brightly, holding a young boy and girl. The girl was dressed in a vibrant red dress, the boy in a tiny bow tie. They looked so happy, so perfect.

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And then it hit me–I knew this photo.

My mom used to wear a pendant locket with a tiny picture inside, and this was it. This exact image. The girl in the red dress had been seared into my memory.

I’d even told my mom once how much I loved that dress, begging for one just like it. Not long after, she got me a red dress of my own, and it became my prized possession as a kid. I barely wore it, scared of ruining it.

After my parents passed away, the locket had vanished. But I’d never forgotten that photograph. And now, here it was, staring back at me from the Yules‘ wall.

“Rea, the honey pomelo tea is ready. Come and try it,” Mr. Yule called, his voice kind and steady as he carried a steaming cup into the room.

I turned to him, unable to tear my gaze from the photo. Pointing at it, I asked softly, “Mr. Yule, that picture on the wall… where did you get it?”