Chapter 13- Cracks in the Armor

Darkness. That was all I could remember. A void of black that stretched endlessly, swallowing my senses. I had passed out long before the ambulance had reached the hospital. My body had felt like it was floating, detached from pain or awareness, yet somewhere deep within, I knew something was terribly wrong.

The first thing I registered was the sterile scent of disinfectant, then the soft beeping of monitors. My eyelids were heavy, like weights were pulling them down. Slowly, I peeled them open, greeted by the harsh glare of white lights.

William was sitting beside me.

His face was pale, and though he looked calm, I could see the tension in his jaw, the lines of worry etched on his face. His fingers were curled around the edge of the hospital bed, and his gaze never left mine.

"You're awake," he said, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it.

I blinked. My throat felt dry. I swallowed hard before trying to speak. "What... happened?"

He hesitated for a moment, as if measuring his words. "You lost consciousness at the mansion. There was... a lot of blood."

As he said the words, the memory of the crimson-stained bedsheets flashed in my mind. My heartbeat quickened. My hands instinctively went to my belly.

William gently took one of my hands and squeezed it.

"The doctors did everything they could. But... the baby didn’t make it, Lily."

I froze. My lungs struggled to take in air. It felt like someone had ripped a part of me away. I shook my head slowly, refusing to believe it. "No... no, it can’t be..."

Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring the harsh light of the room. My chest heaved as sobs overtook me.

To my surprise, William leaned closer. He brushed a tear from my cheek, his hand hesitant but trembling slightly. It was the first time he'd shown anything close to gentleness.

"I’m sorry," he murmured. "I shouldn’t have left you alone that long."

I could barely speak, choked by my grief. But I noticed the way his voice cracked at the end, the guilt swimming in his eyes.

He stayed there as I cried, not saying anything, not moving. Just sitting with me in my grief.

Later, after I’d exhausted myself and drifted in and out of sleep, I found him still in the chair beside me.

It was almost surreal to see him like this—quiet, subdued, human. No commands, no arrogance.

"I don’t understand," I whispered hoarsely. "Everything was fine... and then it wasn’t."

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he leaned back, rubbing a hand down his face. "The doctors are running tests. But the herbal drops—"

He stopped.

"What?" I asked.

His voice was cautious. "They said there was something in your system that shouldn't have been there."

I sat upright in bed, suddenly alert. "You mean the juice? Or those drops Eliza gave me?"

He didn’t respond, but his silence said everything.

My heart raced. "Are you saying Eliza—"

"We don’t know yet," he interrupted. "Don’t jump to conclusions. I’ve already asked my men to handle it."

"But I trusted her..."

His expression hardened, but his voice remained gentle. "And you shouldn’t blame yourself."

I looked away. The loss was too raw. The thought of Eliza doing something like that was too cruel to comprehend.

William leaned closer. "You need to rest now. I’ll handle everything. I promise."

There was a protectiveness in his tone, something I hadn’t heard before. For a moment, I let myself believe he meant it.

A few hours passed.

As the nurses checked on me and changed the IV, I tried to focus on anything but the emptiness inside me. William hadn’t left the room.

He stood by the window now, arms crossed, staring into the city skyline. He looked like a statue—still and unreadable. But I could sense the storm raging inside him.

"Was she... your sister? Selena?" I asked quietly.

He turned slowly. There was a flicker of emotion in his eyes.

"Yes."

I nodded. My voice broke. "I remember her. Sweet. Mischievous. Always laughing."

His jaw clenched. "She was everything."

"What happened to her, William?"

He walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, avoiding my gaze. "She went missing before her graduation. We searched for weeks. Finally, they found her... in the woods."

I covered my mouth in horror.

He continued. "The last person to see her alive was Natasha. She claimed Selena left the party alone. But I don’t believe that."

A shiver ran down my spine.

"I’ve never stopped looking for the truth," he added.

That explained so much. The coldness. The walls he’d built.

But now, in this hospital room, with both of us broken by loss, those walls were cracking.

Night had fallen. The city lights glowed outside the window.

William stood up to leave. "I’ll be back in the morning. If you need anything, call."

"You’re not staying?"

He hesitated. Then, with a sigh, he pulled a blanket from the cupboard and settled on the couch across the room.

"I’m not leaving you alone tonight."

And for the first time in weeks, I didn’t feel entirely alone.

Even in pain, even with questions unanswered—there was the smallest, flickering sense of safety.

And that, somehow, made the heartbreak just a little more bearable.