Chapter 4

Ethan woke up to the smell of antiseptic. He was in a hospital bed again. His back throbbed with a deep, searing pain. He tried to sit up but a sharp gasp escaped his lips and he fell back against the pillows.

A nurse came in. "Easy there, Mr. Miller. You have some severe bruising. The doctor said you need to rest."

"How did I get here?" he asked, his voice raspy.

"Your wife brought you in," the nurse replied, fluffing his pillow. "She was very worried. She stayed until the doctors assured her you were stable."

Ethan's mind reeled. Olivia brought him here? She was worried? A tiny, treacherous spark of hope flickered within him, a hope he immediately tried to extinguish. It was probably just for show, to maintain appearances.

He must have drifted off, because when he opened his eyes again, Olivia was sitting in the chair by his bed. The evening light cast long shadows in the room. She wasn't on her phone. She was just watching him, her expression unreadable.

"You're awake," she said softly.

He just nodded, wincing as the movement pulled at the muscles in his back.

She stood up and walked over to him. She had a bowl of warm porridge in her hands. "The nurse said you should eat something light."

She sat on the edge of his bed and held a spoonful of porridge to his lips. He hesitated. This was a level of care, of tenderness, he had never received from her. It felt like a dream, a dangerous, beautiful dream. He opened his mouth and let her feed him.

She fed him in silence, her movements gentle and focused. Her proximity was intoxicating. He could smell her perfume, see the small flecks of gold in her brown eyes. For a few minutes, he allowed himself to believe the lie. He let himself pretend that this was real, that she cared.

"Why did you defy my grandfather?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper, after he had finished the porridge.

"He wanted me to force you to have a child," Ethan said, his voice flat. "He offered me a fortune to do it."

Olivia's eyes widened slightly. She looked down at her hands. "And you refused."

"Yes."

"Why?"

Because I love you, he wanted to scream. Because I would rather be beaten to death than see you used and trapped. But he said nothing. What was the point?

She reached out, her fingers gently tracing the line of his jaw. "You're a fool, Ethan Miller." Her voice was soft, but the words still stung.

He closed his eyes, his internal walls going up. Don't fall for it, he told himself. This is a trick. This is a mirage. She's only being nice because you did something she approves of. It's not real.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, shattering the fragile peace. Her body tensed instantly. She snatched it up. It was a video call. Liam' s face appeared on the screen.

"Livy," Liam whined from the screen, his voice petulant. "You said you'd be here. My wound is hurting. The nurses here don't understand me."

The tenderness in Olivia's face vanished, replaced by an expression of deep concern. "I'm sorry, Liam. Something came up. I'll be right there."

She stood up abruptly, her focus entirely on the phone. "I'm on my way now. Just hold on."

"Livy, hurry!" Liam's voice was demanding.

"I'm coming," she said, already moving toward the door. As she turned, she didn't see that Ethan was trying to sit up to get a glass of water from the nightstand. She shoved past the small table, her mind completely on Liam's call.

The table tipped over. Ethan, caught off balance, was knocked sideways. He cried out as his head slammed hard against the metal bed frame. The impact was stunning. Black spots danced in his vision.

Olivia didn't even turn around. "I'm almost there, Liam, don't worry," she cooed into the phone as she walked out the door, leaving it swinging in her wake.

The last thing Ethan saw before he lost consciousness was the empty doorway. She was gone. She hadn't even noticed he was hurt. She had pushed him aside, literally and figuratively, to run to the man she truly loved.

The pain in his head was immense, but it was the crushing weight of that final, brutal realization that pulled him under. He was nothing to her. Less than nothing.

He was alone. Again. And this time, he knew, as the darkness enveloped him, that she wasn't coming back.