BORROWED LOVE ON ICE のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 121 - チャプター 130

MELISSA’S POV“Xavier, what’s wrong?” I asked softly, crouching down beside him. The smell of alcohol hit me before anything else—it clung to his breath, his clothes, the very air around him. My chest tightened as I saw the half-empty bottle of whiskey resting limply in his hand. His knuckles were white from the way he clutched it, as if it was the only thing keeping him steady.“Why are you in this state?” My voice cracked as I reached out.He lifted the bottle to his lips and drank, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he took long gulps. When he finally lowered it, he gave a broken laugh, one that sent chills crawling up my spine.“Don’t lie to me,” he slurred, his words heavy, but his tone sharp enough to slice through me.I blinked, confused, my heart racing. “Lie? About what?”His eyes—bloodshot, angry, but also wounded—locked onto mine. He leaned forward, his face twisted with pain and fury. “Where were you, Melissa, after the shoot was cancelled?”I froze. “What do you mean? I don’t—”

XAVIER’S POV I didn't even remember when I slept off after Melissa left. Maybe it was when the alcohol finally numbed me enough to shut my eyes, or maybe it was when the weight of everything grew too heavy and dragged me under. All I know is that when I woke up, the sunlight pouring through my curtains felt like knives stabbing into my skull.The hangover was brutal—my head was pounding, my throat dry, my stomach churning like I’d swallowed broken glass. But it wasn’t just the alcohol. The real pain came from the memories rushing back, uninvited, merciless.Her voice. Her tears. The way she looked at me when I shoved my phone in her face."I don’t remember doing any of this. My drink was spiked. I was drugged."The desperation in her tone replayed over and over, cutting through the fog in my head.And now, in the quiet of the morning, away from the burn of whiskey and the storm of my anger, I felt the weight of it all differently.Had I been too harsh?I pressed a hand to my forehea

KATRINA’S POV The fluorescent lights in the hospital hallway buzzed faintly, a monotonous hum I’d long ago tuned out. Years of double shifts, midnight calls, and endless walking had trained me to ignore fatigue, to push it aside like background noise. My legs ached, my head throbbed faintly, but exhaustion wasn’t what filled me tonight.It was satisfaction. A quiet, simmering kind that warmed me from the inside out.Two days had passed since Xavier opened those photos. Two days since everything I’d worked for finally began to bear fruit. I wasn’t there to see the exact moment—the way his jaw must have clenched, the way disbelief bled into fury—but I didn’t need to be. I knew him. I knew the script by heart and I could already feel the ripple effects moving outward, shaking the ground beneath Melissa’s perfect little world.As I adjusted the strap of my stethoscope and scribbled a note on a patient’s chart, a smile tugged at my lips. Not the bright, practiced smile of a nurse keeping

KATRINA’S POVI knew I had told myself I’d let Xavier come to me first. I had said I would wait, that patience was my best weapon, that eventually he’d realize Melissa wasn’t the girl he thought she was. But patience had never really been my strength. The thought of sitting back and letting things unfold on their own gnawed at me until I couldn’t take it anymore.That was what brought me to his doorstep today.When he opened the door, the sight of him broke something inside me. His once perfectly kept apartment was a complete mess—empty bottles, clothes thrown about carelessly, papers scattered like the aftermath of a storm. And him… my Xavier… he looked like hell. His hair was tousled, his eyes rimmed red, and his whole body screamed exhaustion, heartbreak, defeat.Oh, Xavier.That was the first thing that crossed my mind. This wasn’t the strong, composed, self-assured man I had known. This was someone broken. And a selfish part of me whispered that Melissa had done this to him—that

MELISSA’S POV Ever since I left Xavier’s house that night, my life seemed to have lost its color. Everything felt dimmer, quieter, as though someone had drained the life out of the world. The city outside my window kept moving, people kept living, but for me, time felt suspended in this cruel space where I was neither moving forward nor going back.I woke up each morning staring at the ceiling, heavy in my chest, my mind blank at first but then slowly rushing back with the memory of his drunken voice whispering, “Melissa, how could you do this to me?” And every single time, the words pierced me fresh, like knives sliding into the softest part of my heart.I lacked the energy to do anything productive for myself. It didn’t help that this week was my week off from work. No early alarms, no hectic schedules, no assignments to drown myself in. Normally, a week off was heaven—time to rest, time to breathe. But this time, the idleness made me nearly go insane. I was stuck alone with my th