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53. The Guilt I Carry

Author: Meminger
last update Last Updated: 2025-06-30 16:16:17

Shawn’s Point of View

The hospital waiting room was a sterile prison, its fluorescent lights buzzing softly, the air heavy with antiseptic and my own guilt. Dawn crept through the windows, painting the city skyline in pale gold, but I hadn’t slept, hadn’t left. My shirt was still stained with Ella’s blood, the dark red a stark reminder of my failure, dried now into a grim map of the night before.

She was in the ICU, in a coma, the bullet removed but her life hanging by a thread. I sat hunched in a plastic chair, my hands clasped, my surgical scar throbbing from the strain I’d put on my body—ignoring the wheelchair, the doctor’s orders, the limits of my newly repaired heart. None of it mattered. Ella was all that mattered, and I’d failed her.

Her face haunted me—pale, bloodied, her long black hair splayed across the cabin floor when I’d found her. The memory of her limp hand in mine, the ambulance’s wail, the paramedics’ urgency—it played on a loop, each image a knife twisting deeper.
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  • The Billionaire's Ex-wife Never Looks Back    92. Who To Protect

    Ella’s Point of ViewThe dusk had settled over the Hayes mansion, the sky a bruised purple, casting long shadows across the gravel drive where Marcus stood, his hand still raised from waving goodbye to Lily. Her small arms had just released him, her giggle still echoing in my ears, a fleeting warmth that felt like a victory after the tense picnic. I stood by the car, my arms crossed, the half-smile I’d given Marcus a fragile bridge between us, built for Lily’s sake. But that bridge shattered in an instant when the mansion’s front door flew open, and my father, Emerson, charged out like a storm unleashed, his face twisted with a fury I hadn’t seen in years. Before I could process it, he grabbed Marcus by the collar, his fist slamming into Marcus’s jaw with a sickening crack, the sound slicing through the evening air.Lily’s scream pierced my heart, her small body shrinking against me, her hands clutching my leg as tears spilled down her cheeks. “Mommy!” she cried, her voice tremblin

  • The Billionaire's Ex-wife Never Looks Back    91. The Unexpected Rage

    Marcus’s Point of ViewThe park was alive with the hum of summer, kids shrieking as they darted through the grass, dogs bounding after frisbees, the air thick with the scent of sunscreen and grilled hot dogs. I sat cross-legged on the picnic blanket, my focus locked on Lily as she scampered back from the swings, her laughter like a melody that could almost drown out the chaos in my head. Almost. Ella sat a few feet away, her juice glass catching the sunlight, her gaze soft but guarded, a reminder of the line I couldn’t cross. I wanted to sink into this moment—the blanket, the breeze, Lily’s giggles—but I held myself back, my heart a traitor that still raced at the sight of Ella’s smile. Those feelings were a minefield, dangerous and raw, and I’d already blown up my life once with her. I wasn’t going to screw this up again, not with Lily watching, her small hands waving as she begged me to push her higher on the swing.“Come on, Daddy!” Lily called, her voice bright, tugging me bac

  • The Billionaire's Ex-wife Never Looks Back    90. A Day In The Park

    Ella’s Point of ViewThe park hummed with life, a soft breeze carrying the laughter of children, the rustle of leaves, and the distant bark of a dog chasing its tail. We were sprawled on a checkered picnic blanket, the grass beneath it soft and slightly damp, the afternoon sun filtering through the trees in golden patches. Shawn lay with his head in my lap, his book open, his fingers lazily turning a page, though I could tell he was more focused on the warmth of my touch than the words. I sipped my juice, the tart sweetness a small comfort, my eyes drifting to Lily, her giggles ringing out as Marcus pushed her on the swing a few yards away. Her small hands gripped the chains, her legs kicking with delight, and for a moment, the sight of her joy was a balm, a fleeting promise that maybe we could carve out something normal, something safe. But the weight of everything— My fears with Marcus, Cliff’s cold words at brunch—was pressed against my chest, a knot that wouldn’t loosen.I ran m

  • The Billionaire's Ex-wife Never Looks Back    89. Cliff Hayes

    Ella’s Point of ViewThe morning’s warmth still hummed in my veins as Shawn and I descended the staircase, our fingers laced together, his touch a quiet promise after the soft hours we’d stolen in bed. The memory of his breakfast tray—flaky croissants, tart strawberries, his lips brushing mine—kept a fragile smile on my face, a shield against the shadows of last night. Amanda’s venom, Cliff’s sharp-edged threats, the specter of Marcus and Vanessa—they lingered like a low hum, ready to flare at any moment. But Shawn’s hand, steady despite the faint tremor from his old surgeries, grounded me. Lily’s laughter spilled from the dining room, bright and unburdened, pulling us forward. I squeezed his hand, his cane tapping softly beside us, and we stepped into the sunlit room where Lily sat, her small hands curled around a glass of orange juice, her smile a light that made my heart twist with love and fear.“Hey, sweetheart,” I said, pressing a kiss to her forehead, her curls tickling my

  • The Billionaire's Ex-wife Never Looks Back    88. Who I Love The Most

    Marcus POVI could hardly believe I’d actually gone to bed with Vanessa. After everything that happened between us in the past, I never thought I’d be interested in her again, but it happened, and I had to conclude it was simply because I was desperately lonely. That’s the only way I’d get involved again with a woman I despised so much.A wave of regret hit me when I woke up the next morning, my conscience coming with a headache from last night’s hangover. Shit. I dragged myself out of bed, threw on the pants lying on the floor, and went to take some medicine to recover quickly. That’s when I noticed Vanessa wasn’t in the room.The bed was empty, though we’d slept together the night before. Had she left? I hoped so, because seeing her face now was the last thing I wanted. I didn’t want to feel guilty.I really hoped she’d gone.But my hopes were shattered when I nearly tripped over her high heel left in the room. Her stuff was still there too; no way she’d leave without her things. Th

  • The Billionaire's Ex-wife Never Looks Back    87. Making My Way Towards Revenge

    Vanessa Monroe’s Point of ViewThe air in The Night Sins pulsed with heat, the bass thumping like a fever in my veins as Marcus’s hand slid up my thigh, his touch bold, possessive, igniting a spark I hadn’t felt in years. His eyes, dark with intent, locked on mine, and I leaned into it, my lips curving into a smile that promised everything and nothing. Five years ago, I’d have melted under that gaze, begged for his love, but now? Now, I hated him—hated the man who’d shattered my world, who’d pushed me hard enough to lose our child, who’d left me to claw my way through the wreckage of my faded fame. But hate was a fire, and fire could burn both ways. I let him lead me out of the club, his grip firm, my dress clinging to my skin, the night air sharp against my flushed cheeks as we headed to his apartment. I wasn’t here for love. I was here for revenge.Inside his penthouse, the city’s glow filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting shadows over sleek furniture and polishe

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