Twelve

When I finally pulled away from Ethan’s arms, my eyes burned and my head throbbed from crying too much. I wiped my cheeks quickly, embarrassed, even though he hadn’t once made me feel like a burden.

“Sorry,” I muttered. “I didn’t mean to...”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Ethan cut in gently. “It's normal to cry, and I'm glad I am here for you, Aria.”

I nodded, unsure of what to say next. Silence stretched between us, not the awkward kind, but the quiet that settles after something heavy has been said. The kind that leaves you feeling stripped bare.

I stood up and walked toward the window, hugging my arms around myself. Outside, the city moved like nothing had happened. Cars passed. People laughed. Life went on.

Funny how the world never stops, no matter how shattered you feel.

“I don’t even recognize myself anymore,” I said quietly, staring outside. “I used to be confident. I had dreams. I laughed loudly. Now I feel like… like I’m constantly apologizing for existing.”

Ethan didn’t answer right away. I felt him come up behind me, closely but not touching me.

“That version of you isn’t gone,” he said. “She’s just buried under pain.”

I exhaled slowly.

“What if I don’t know how to be her again?” I asked. “What if I’m broken like this forever?”

“You’re not broken,” he said firmly. “You were wounded.”

That word hit harder than I expected.

Wounded? I can heal then. Because wounds heal.

I turned to face him. “Lucien doesn’t see it that way. To him, I was always the problem.”

Ethan’s expression darkened, just for a second. “Men like him don’t love women. They love control.”

The truth of that statement sent a chill through me.

“I don’t want to think about him anymore,” I said. “I just… I want peace.”

“You will get it, don't worry.” he whispered and I turned to smile at him. He's such a gentleman and he's good at comforting me.

Later that night, I lay on the bed in the room, staring at the ceiling. Sleep refused to come. My thoughts wouldn’t slow down.

Lucien’s face kept flashing in my mind, not the man from the beginning, but the man he became. The yelling. The silence. The manipulation.

And yet… a part of me still remembered the warmth of his hand, the way he used to call my name softly.

I hated that part of me.

I turned on my side, clutching the pillow.

It’s over, I told myself. You survived him.

A soft knock came at the door.

“Aria?” Ethan’s voice.

“Yes?”

“I left some water and painkillers outside. In case your head hurts.”

“Thank you,” I said.

After a pause, he added, “Try to rest.”

When his footsteps faded, I closed my eyes.

For the first time in a long time, Lucien wasn’t the last thought before sleep. I thought about Ethan and that was the best result I wanted.

***

(Lucien’s POV)

I opened my eyes to unfamiliar voices and a sharp, throbbing pain pulsing through my body. My head felt heavy, like it was filled with cement. I tried to move, but my limbs refused to cooperate.

“Easy,” a woman’s voice said. “He’s awake.”

I blinked several times, trying to focus. Then I noticed the white walls, the beeping of machines. The sterile smell of disinfectant.

A hospital? I'm in a hospital.

“What the fuck…?” I muttered weakly.

The last thing I remembered was leaving the restaurant, getting drunk angrily, the world spinning as I got into my car. Then nothing.

“My son,” my mother’s sharp voice cut through my thoughts. “Look at what you’ve done to yourself because of that ungrateful bitch!”

I winced not just from the pain, but from her words.

“Mom,” I groaned, shaking my head. “Stop it. This isn’t Aria’s fault.”

She scoffed. “Really? You were involved in an accident. Look at your legs!”

I glanced down, finally registering the dull ache running through them.

“I’ll be fine,” I said, brushing it off.

She left angrily, the sound of her heels echoing down the hallway. She hated seeing me hurt but she had no idea that the real pain wasn’t physical.

It was the emptiness. The silence Aria left behind. Had she been here, she would’ve held my hand. Told me it would be okay. Made me feel better without even trying.

I closed my eyes briefly. I lost a gem. And for the first time, I knew I might never get her back.

The image of her with another man flashed in my mind, and rage burned in my chest. I didn’t want to remember his face.

Sabrina walked in then, smiling softly as she took a seat beside my bed.

“Good morning,” she said. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” I replied curtly. “Aria—”

She interrupted me. “You know what I think about Aria?”

I looked at her. “What?”

“I think you’re obsessed with her,” she said calmly. “I don’t think you love her.”

I frowned. “Do I need to prove it to you too?”

“Obsession is intense,” she said. “Consuming. Painful. Urgent. It isn’t peaceful. And it's not love.”

She sighed, still holding my hand.

“But at least you’re obsessed with her,” she added quietly. “My husband isn’t. He doesn’t love me at all.”

She squeezed my hand. “Give her space, please. Give yourself space.”

I looked away. Space? When another man was already filling it?

No.

I don’t care what she called it—love or obsession. All I knew was that I couldn’t live without Aria.

I’d chase her until she came back.

It's either her… or no one.

One week ago, I thought I could survive without her. I was arrogant enough to believe she’d return on her own. But she didn't even look back.

Then I knew the truth. You never know the worth of something, until it’s gone.