Chapter 6

I woke up in a different hospital.

Sunlight streamed through the window.

My leg was in a cast.

Olivia was there.

Sitting by my bed.

Her face was pale. Her eyes swollen.

"Ethan," she whispered. "Thank God."

She reached for my hand.

I pulled it away.

"The rescue team found you," she said. "Grandma Eleanor sent them when she heard about the earthquake."

She took a shaky breath.

"It was my fault, Ethan. Leaving you there. I was... I was so angry. So confused."

Remorse.

Genuine? Or another act?

Caleb walked in then.

Feigning guilt.

"Ethan, I am so sorry."

He wrung his hands.

"Olivia was just trying to protect our... her baby. She acted rashly. But her heart was in the right place."

He praised her.

Her "fierce maternal instinct."

Olivia waved a dismissive hand at him.

"Don't, Caleb."

I looked at them.

The two architects of my misery.

A bitter laugh escaped me.

"My heart was in the right place too, Olivia. When I tried to save our marriage."

My voice was rough.

"Leave," I said.

My voice was quiet.

But cold.

"Both of you. Get out."

I picked up the water glass from the bedside table.

Hurled it against the wall.

It shattered.

Like my life.

They left.

Olivia hesitated at the door.

A flicker of pain in her eyes.

Then she was gone.

Days turned into weeks.

Olivia tried.

She sent flowers. Gifts.

Expensive things I didn't want.

She came to the hospital.

Tried to talk to me.

To feed me.

Like she used to.

I remained distant.

Unresponsive.

I treated her like a stranger.

A polite, cold stranger.

She was the CEO of Beaumont Holdings.

I was just Ethan Miller.

A patient.

Nothing more.

The day I was discharged.

Olivia was there.

She held something in her hand.

A small, leather whip.

"Ethan," she said. Her voice trembled.

"Punish me."

She offered it to me.

"I deserve it. For everything."

I looked at the whip.

Then at her.

"I don't want to punish you, Olivia," I said.

My voice was flat.

"I just want to be free of you."

She flinched.

"Grandma Eleanor is having a family dinner tonight," she said. "She expects us both."

Us.

There was no "us" anymore.

But I nodded.

"Fine."

Indifference.

Not forgiveness.

We drove to the Beaumont mansion in silence.

Olivia tried to bridge the gap.

She talked about shared memories.

Old jokes. Past trips.

I said nothing.

Stared out the window.

The city lights blurred past.

Like my memories of her.

Fading.

Distorted.

The family dinner was a trial.

Eleanor Beaumont presided.

Formidable. Icy.

Caleb was there.

Fawned over by Eleanor.

"Such a charming young man," Eleanor declared.

"And so devoted to Olivia."

Olivia tried to explain.

To me. In a low voice.

"Grandma is just... pleased about the baby."

I shrugged.

Indifferent.

It didn't matter.

Nothing about them mattered anymore.

Eleanor turned her sharp gaze on me.

"Ethan. You've been married to Olivia for years now."

Her voice was cutting.

"And still no sign of a Beaumont heir from your side."

She gestured towards Caleb.

"At least Caleb has proven... fruitful."

Her words were a public slap.

A painful memory surfaced.

Olivia, years ago.

After a doctor told us conception might be difficult for me.

She had held me close.

"It doesn't matter, Ethan," she'd whispered.

"I love you. Not your ability to give me a child. If it's just us, it's enough."

A promise.

Broken.

Like all the others.

Her actions with Caleb.

Her family's embrace of him.

It was all a stark contradiction.

A cruel joke.