Episode 3 - Her Return, His Regret

Cold water splashed over her face.

Lilian gasped, jerking awake as her body trembled violently. The tiled floor beneath her was freezing, slick with water. Her hair clung to her cheeks, her thin clothes soaked through.

Through the blur of her vision, she saw him.

Ethan Brook.

He stood beside the running shower, sleeves rolled up, expression carved in stone.

“Why are you pretending to be noble?” His voice was low, deadly calm.

He grabbed a fistful of her hair and forced her to look up at him. “You went to that place to disgrace me, didn’t you?”

“N–No—”

“Listen to me,” he snapped, his grip tightening until she winced. “If you ever humiliate me like that again… you’ll regret it.”

His words sliced through her like knives.

Her lips trembled. “E–Ethan…”

He crouched slightly, his shadow falling across her face. His eyes were dark, emotionless.

“Do you think you’re worthy of my sympathy?” he murmured, each syllable dipped in contempt. “You disgust me, Lilian.”

The words hit harder than the water splashing against her skin. Her throat burned. She tried to sit up, but her body wouldn’t obey. The humiliation from the bar came rushing back — every cruel laugh, every cold glance.

“Ethan, please…” Her voice cracked. “I didn’t mean—”

“Save it.” He straightened, looking down at her as though she were nothing. “I hate even looking at you. You’re not worthy of cleaning my shoes.”

He turned off the shower, grabbed a towel, and tossed it at her feet without a glance. Then he walked out, the slam of the door echoing through the bathroom like a gunshot.

Silence fell — heavy, suffocating.

Water still dripped from the faucet, its rhythm matching the broken beat of her heart.

Lilian wrapped the towel around herself, shivering uncontrollably. Every breath hurt. Every thought screamed his name.

She forced herself to move, dragging her weak body toward the bedroom. Her phone buzzed on the nightstand.

She hesitated before picking it up.

Hospital Caller ID.

Her chest tightened. “Hello?” Her voice was barely audible.

“Mrs. Brook,” the nurse said softly, “we’re sorry to inform you that if the hospital bill isn’t paid by tonight, we’ll have to suspend your mother’s treatment.”

Lilian’s heart dropped. “Please… just give me a little more time,” she begged. “She’s all I have. Please.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. There’s nothing we can do.”

The call ended.

Her reflection stared back from the dark screen — pale, broken, and unrecognizable.

Then another notification appeared.

Subject: Employment Termination Notice.

Her trembling fingers opened the email.

> We regret to inform you that due to the incident at the bar, your services are no longer required. Effective immediately.

The phone slipped from her hand. It hit the floor with a hollow thud.

Lilian clutched her chest, her breathing shallow.

“Why?” she whispered. “Why does it always have to be me?”

Tears poured down her face, mixing with the water still clinging to her hair. She sank to the floor, hugging her knees as sobs broke free from the walls she’d tried to build.

“I gave you everything, Ethan,” she whispered. “My heart. My trust. My name. And you gave me nothing but pain.”

The night dragged on, heavy with silence.

Exhaustion finally pulled her under, her tears still wet against the pillow.

---

When morning came, faint sunlight spilled across the room. The steady beeping of a machine echoed nearby.

Lilian stirred, her eyelids fluttering open.

The smell of antiseptic filled the air. White walls. A curtain drawn to the side. A nurse stood near the door, clipboard in hand.

She was in the hospital.

“Mrs. Brook,” the nurse said gently, noticing her eyes were open, “you fainted last night. Your body was weak from exhaustion and dehydration. You need to rest.”

Lilian blinked slowly, her mind foggy. She turned her head toward the window. Outside, the world carried on — cars passing, people laughing — as if nothing had happened.

Inside, her world had already ended.

But somewhere deep beneath the pain, something began to stir. Not love. Not hope.

Determination.

If this is what love feels like, she thought bitterly, then I’ll learn to stop begging for it.

Her fingers curled around the blanket. For the first time, her heart didn’t ache for him — it burned for herself.

And in that quiet hospital room, a new Lilian was born — the one who would rise from the ashes of Ethan Brook’s cruelty.