บททั้งหมดของ While Marrying Mr. Steele: บทที่ 31 - บทที่ 40

Ethan's Pov"Are you sure?" I asked softly, looking over at Amelia, who stood by the window, staring out at the vast city below us, her back turned against me.Amelia didn't say anything. She hadn't been saying much lately—she seemed too lost in her thoughts, too far away. I had been noticing it all week. The emptiness in her eyes, the way she floated through the days like a ghost. It made me angry. I hated that I couldn't reach her.She had lost so much—her mom, her sense of self—because nothing had ever really shifted. It seemed like time itself had stopped for her, as if the world had stopped for a moment to notice pain she held.I could see it even in the way her smile had become a receding memory, even as I used every bit of strength to pull her back from the precipice. For the most part, she held herself together, though cracks were now clearly visible. Grief started seeping through."Amelia?" I said again, my voice a little louder. "I implore you, please speak with me."Finally

Amelia –I did not recognise him at first.The moment he came towards me, the world around us froze—the soft music, the hushed talk, the clinking glasses—all melted away into a thick, humming silence.The crowd separated nearly of its own accord, heads turning to the tall, dark-dressed man, his face lined by years and something more sinister.Behind me, Ethan tensed. His hand tightened around mine in a pained grasp before he pulled away.I blinked at him. "Ethan?"He remained motionless. His chest was still. He wasn't breathing."Ethan," I whispered once more, barely audible. My heart hammered in confusion, then in terror.He stared at the man as if he had seen a ghost. Perhaps he had.I reached for him a second time, but slowly, for fear he might pull away. He did not. His hands were icy, but he allowed me to hold them."Who is that?" I questioned, gazing at the white face. "Do you recognize him?"He kept quiet.The man approached now, through the astonished crowd, eyes fixed on us—o

Amelia –He tried to walk away from me.Again.But his legs gave way before he had even taken three steps."Ethan..." I reached for him in time, grabbing for him just as he stumbled forward. He cursed softly under his breath and pulled away like the touch burned him."I'm fine," he growled.He wasn't. His knees trembled. His eyes glazed. And he seemed not to have taken a deep breath since Ryan got there."You are not okay," I whispered softly."I said I'm fine!" he growled, louder this time, jerking his arm away from me.The noise reverberated off the vineyard wall behind us.A few frightened birds took flight from a surrounding tree. Far away, even, the door of some automobile slammed shut. Perhaps people were indeed departing. Perhaps a conversation about the bride who stood the groom up was in progress. None of that was important anymore.Him aloneHe tried to stand up straight, to pretend that everything was okay. His jaw hurt. Fists had been clenched. Pride tried to carry him whe

POV: Amelia"Stop it!" I cried, throwing myself between them.Ethan's fist was knotted into Ryan's collar, his own body trembling with rage. Ryan would not back down—his smirk was contemptuous, merciless.I lay my hands flat on Ethan's chest. "Look at me. Not him. Me. This isn't you."His chest rose and fell with hard, rasping gasps. His eyes flashed to mine—wild and tormented—before focusing on Ryan.He doesn't get to say that to you, Ethan ground out."Perhaps he does not." I stood firm, however. "But you are never going to throw everything we have been through over him."Ryan snorted and stepped back, batting Ethan's fist off his shirt. "Touching. She speaks as if she's somebody."I cut him off. "You don't get to enter here after staging your own death and expect everyone to be indebted to you. What is your issue?"His smile wavered."You think he's told you everything? That you know what kind of man you're marrying?" He laughed. "He's not a hero. He's a consequence. Like me. Like

Amelia's povI could still smell smoke in my head, even though there wasn't any.I woke up with a blink, the jarring, unwelcome kind of waking where your body wakes up before your head. The sheets still rested upon me, warm, tangled. But the room was chillier than it should have been. Quiet. Waiting.Ethan wasn't sleeping.He sat up against the headboard, tense, his jaw muscle knotted in a hard band, so tense I could feel the shake in his cheek. His body, damp-backed, rose and fell in rough, ragged breaths. His hand gripped the edge of his phone, its screen shining his face with an entrancing light."Ethan?" My words fought to pass over a bump in my throat.He didn't answer. Didn't even blink. Didn't breathe. Just stared.I inched closer. His gaze snapped to me, then—reluctantly—he turned over the phone.A photo.Of myself.Sleeping. Here, from this very bed. Right now. The same way. Same quilt, half over shoulder, hair falling on pillow.My heart pounded impossibly loudly in my ears,