The cops finally escorted Chole out of the room, still screaming.


    Then, me and Alexander were brought into the hospital.


    Alexander was wheeled into a separate ward while in my ward, Ethan stayed with me, and Ava slept outside the room on a


    bench.


    I was left with Ethan, seated on the edge of my hospital bed, too


    close forfort, too far for forgiveness.


    The room settled into silence.


    I shifted slightly on the bed, feeling the IV tug at my arm. “You


    don’t have to stay,” I said quietly. It was the first thing I’d said to


    him all night. My tone was t. Dry. Like the words belonged to


    someone else.


    Ethan didn’t flinch. His voice was rough from disuse. “I want to.


    I mean there’s no one at home. And Ava’s sleeping.” He


    shrugged, forcing a weak smile. “You need someone to look


    after the small things.”


    I turned my face toward him, studying his features. There was


    no smugness, no pleading, no anger. Just fatigue. And maybe


    regret as well.


    ?? ??? ?


    But I didn’t trust regret anymore.


    I stared at him for a few quiet seconds, searching for something


    I couldn’t name–and didn’t find.


    Then I closed my eyes.


    And said nothing else.


    Author’s POV


    Ethan sat by Olivia’s hospital bed, unmoving. His head rested lightly beside her arm, close enough to feel the steady rise and fall of her breathing. Her hospital gown rustled faintly as she


    shifted slightly in her sleep, but her eyes didn’t open.


    Tears had dried on his cheeks more than once tonight, only to


    be reced by new ones, warmer, heavier. His forehead leaned


    against her arm as if by staying close, he could dy the


    inevitable. As if the passing hours wouldn’t steal this moment


    from him too.


    This wasn’t the Ethan the world knew. Not the arrogant alpha,


    nor the poised heir to the Hawthrone family. Tonight, he was


    just a man who had failed. A man who’d promised to protect the


    woman he loved–only to be the very reason she ended up


    bruised and nearly burned alive.


    He didn’t speak <i>a </i>word all night. There was no apology that


    could patch the wreckage between them. No grand exnation


    <b>Chapter </b>24


    that could erase the years of betrayal, of pain he’d brought <b>into </b>


    her life. And Olivia… Olivia had already said it all in silence.


    Earlier, when she told him tly that he could leave, she didn’t


    raise her voice. She didn’t cry. She didn’t even look angry.


    That expressionless tone hurt more than all her past


    usationsbined.


    Ethan had watched her sleep, jaw clenched to stop it from


    trembling. He hadn’t slept. Not even for a moment. Every time he blinked<i>, </i>a memory surfaced. Herughing in the rain, her brushing flour from her cheek while baking, her tugging his tie


    to kiss him goodbye before work.


    He had memorized her expressions over the years, but tonight


    he couldn’t read her anymore.


    He turned his gaze to her hand, resting lightly atop the nket.


    There were faint red marks near her wrist–remnants of the


    duct tape Chole had used. Rage welled up again, but there was


    no one to direct it at now. Chole was in custody, and Olivia…


    Olivia had already paid too much.


    His fingers twitched at his side. He wanted to hold her hand,


    just once. Just to feel the warmth again, just to remind himself


    that she was still here.


    But he didn’t.


    Because he knew that this time, Olivia wouldn’t hold it <b>back</b><b>. </b>


    He thought of the countless second chances she’d given him. How many times she had swallowed her pride, softened her voice, made the first move. And what had he done in return?


    He hadn’t just hurt her. He’d left her defenseless.


    Ethan leaned back slowly in the chair, exhausted and hollow. His eyes scanned her face onest time. She was healing. There were bruises beneath her eyes, and her lips were dry, but she looked peaceful. Too peaceful to be disturbed by his selfish need


    for closure.


    The sun had begun to seep in through the blinds, casting soft


    gold across the bed sheets. Morning hade. The night was


    over.


    Ethan stood quietly, careful not to rouse Ava, who was still curled on the couch. He adjusted Olivia’s nket gently, fingers


    lingering for just a moment before pulling back.


    He knew this was thest time he’d be this close.


    He longed to bend down and kiss her forehead. To whisper that


    he was sorry. That he would carry this guilt to his grave.


    But he didn’t.


    He just looked at her. Onest time.


    And left.


    The hallway outside was colder than he remembered. His


    footsteps echoed down the corridor, each one heavier than the <pst.