Chapter 2

The sterile smell of the hospital still clung to my clothes as I walked out, the faint scent a reminder of the drama I had left behind in OR three. Kori was stable, and the baby was safe. My job was done. For them, at least.

I expected the usual rush of relief, the familiar weight lifting as I shed my surgical scrubs. But tonight, a new kind of tension had coiled in my stomach. A lingering residue of Cassius.

As I reached the staff parking lot, a sleek black car was idling by the entrance, its headlights cutting through the early evening gloom. Cassius leaned against the driver's side door, his phone in hand, but his gaze was fixed on the hospital entrance. On me.

He spotted me, straightened up, and pocketed his phone. The air instantly crackled.

"Alana." His voice carried across the distance, a low, smooth sound that used to make my heart race. Now, it just raised the hairs on the back of my neck.

"Cassius," I acknowledged him with a curt nod. I didn' t stop walking. I just wanted to get home. To my real home, my safe haven.

He fell into step beside me, his long strides easily matching mine. "I wanted to thank you again. For Kori. For the baby."

"It's my job," I said, my voice clipped. "You don't need to wait around for that."

"I know," he said, a strange note in his tone. "But I... I thought maybe I could drive you home. It's late."

"I'm fine," I countered instantly. "I have plans." I didn't, not really. My book club had canceled last minute due to a storm rolling in. But I' d rather walk through a hurricane than spend another minute in his presence.

Just then, the wail of an ambulance siren pierced the night. It was nearing the hospital entrance, but the sleek black car was partially blocking the path. The ambulance slowed, its lights flashing impatiently.

Cassius glanced at his car, then at the approaching emergency vehicle. He cursed under his breath. "Damn it." He looked at me, a flicker of something I couldn't quite decipher in his eyes. "Looks like you're stuck with me for a few more minutes, then."

He gestured vaguely towards his car. I sighed, a weary exhalation. It was a familiar pattern with him. He always found a way to get what he wanted, even when I resisted. I didn't have the energy for a public spectacle.

"Fine," I conceded, my voice barely above a whisper. I watched as he quickly moved the car, creating a clear path for the ambulance. It sped past us, its siren fading into the distance.

I walked towards his car, the passenger door already open. It was a reflex, an old habit. I slid into the rich leather seat, the familiar scent of new car mixed with his expensive cologne enveloping me. The car seamlessly pulled out of the parking lot.

A soft, melancholic melody drifted from the speakers. It was an old song, one we used to listen to on long drives, back when our future seemed boundless and bright. My stomach clenched. He still knew my tastes.

"So," he started, his voice casual, almost too casual. "How have you been, Alana? Really."

"Busy," I replied, staring out the window at the passing city lights. "Work. Life." It was a generic answer, designed to close off any further probing.

He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. "Still the same, I see. Always burying yourself in work." He paused, then added, "You look... good, though. Healthy." There was a strange relief in his tone, almost as if he' d expected me to be wasting away.

"And you?" I asked, turning the tables. "Still conquering Wall Street?"

"Something like that," he said, but his focus quickly returned to me. "I wondered if you'd... if you'd found someone else. After everything."

My head snapped towards him. "What does that have to do with anything, Cassius?" My voice was sharper than I intended.

He gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. The familiar tension in his hands. It always showed when he was agitated.

"Are you still mad at me, Alana?" he asked, his voice unexpectedly quiet. "About... everything? About my mother?"

The mention of his mother. It was a raw nerve. My grandmother had died of a heart attack, the stress of their betrayal, Cassius and Kori's, too much for her fragile heart. And Kori's mother had been right there, stirring the pot.

He stopped himself, the words catching in his throat. He'd almost said too much. The unspoken history hung between us, thick and suffocating.

My breath hitched. The familiar icy tendrils of grief and anger started to coil in my chest. "Pull over, Cassius," I demanded, my voice trembling. "Right here."

"Alana, no," he said, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror. "It's late. This part of town isn't safe. And you don't live here anymore, do you? Your old apartment was a few blocks back."

He still remembered. He still remembered my old life, the one he had helped to shatter.

"I said pull over!" My voice cracked, raw with emotion. The memories were flooding back, sharp and painful.

He ignored me. The car accelerated. My heart hammered against my ribs. He was not going to let me go. Not yet.

"Cassius, unlock the door!" I hissed, my hand already on the handle, fumbling with the lock.

He pressed a button on his console, and I heard the click. The doors were locked. My breath caught in my throat. He was trapping me. Just like he always had.

The car sped through the city, and then, without warning, it turned into a familiar, tree-lined street. My old street. My old house. The one with the porch swing and the faded blue shutters.

My stomach dropped. "What are you doing?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Before I could react, the car pulled up to the curb. Next door, the porch light of Kori's childhood home, now his home, flickered on. The front door opened.

Kori stood there, wrapped in a plush robe, her face pale but her eyes surprisingly bright. She gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.

"Alana? What are you doing here?" Her voice was soft, laced with feigned concern. "Are you alright? Is everything okay with... with mother?"

Her mother. The woman who had seduced my father, who had driven my own mother to her grave.

"Don't you dare mention my mother," I ground out, pushing open the car door with a surge of adrenaline.

I didn't wait for Cassius. I didn't wait for Kori. I just started walking, my feet pounding on the familiar pavement. I needed to escape. From this street, from them, from the ghosts that haunted every brick.

"Alana, wait!" Cassius was suddenly behind me, his hand closing around my wrist. His touch was like a brand.

"Where are you going, Alana?" he asked, his voice laced with exasperation. "You don't have anywhere to go, do you? Not really. You're alone."

His words were a punch to the gut. They were designed to cut, to remind me of the desolate emptiness I had felt after our breakup.

"I have a home," I stated, my voice shaking with forced calm. "I have a family."

He scoffed, a bitter sound. "A family? Who? The man you ran away from at our wedding? The one you set on fire, Alana?"

The memories flooded back. The fire. The chaos. The restraining order. The world had seen me as the villain, the unstable woman. And he, Cassius, had played the victim so well.

"That wasn't how it happened," I started, but stopped. What was the point? He would never believe me. They never did.

"Just come back, Alana," he urged, his grip tightening. "This is your home. It always was. You belong here, with us. We can make things right."

Kori stood on the porch, her eyes wide, a silent spectator to his desperate plea. Her gaze flickered from Cassius to me, a smug satisfaction hidden beneath her feigned innocence. I saw it. I always saw it.

I remembered the night before our wedding. The argument. The accusations. My mother, just weeks before, had died by suicide. My father, entangled with Kori's manipulative mother. My grandmother, her heart giving out after witnessing the betrayal of Cassius and Kori. My world had shattered. And Cassius had dismissed my pain, his focus already shifting to Kori, her comfort, her tears.

A cold shiver ran down my spine, even in the warm evening air. I pulled my thin coat tighter around me, trying to suppress the tremor that threatened to erupt.

"I have a family," I repeated, my voice stronger this time, firmer. "A real one. I belong there now. Not here."

I yanked my arm free, surprising him with the force of my movement. I turned my back on them, on the house, on the entire toxic facade. I didn' t look back. I just walked, faster and faster, until their voices, their shadows, their poisonous past, faded behind me. The streetlights stretched before me, a long, lonely path. But it was my path now. Not theirs.