CHAPTER 37
Celeste’s POV
I stared at him hard.
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His eyes were narrowed, stormy–not accusing, but stunned. And in that moment, staring at the expression on his face,
something inside me just snapped.
I was done explaining. Done justifying. Let him sit with the truth. I was done carrying it alone.
I shook off his hand, hard. “If you really want to know,” I said coldly, “ask the hospital records,”
Damien looked like he wanted to say more, to push–but I turned away. I didn’t have the energy for another confrontation. Not
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My aunt’s condition was all I could think about, heavy and urgent in my chest. And honestly, I had nothing left to explain to a
man who never believed in me when it counted.
I turned on my heel, leaving Damien in the hallway without a second glance. Let him wrestle with his doubts–I had more
important battles to face.
The ICU doors slid open with a soft hiss, and I stepped inside. My auntle lay pale and motionless beneath the hospital blankets,
her face barely visible behind the tangle of tubes and wires.
I stood frozen for a second.
Still in a designer gown. Still with makeup on. Still wearing heels from the gala where I’d just taken back control of my life.
And now here I was. Sitting beside the only person who ever made this world feel less cruel.
I sank into the chair beside her bed and carefully reached for her hand. It was cold–too cold.
“I did it, Auntie,” I whispered. My throat tightened. “I finally stood up for myself tonight. I said everything I’ve been too afraid to say. And it worked. They’re finally listening.”
But the words felt hollow when met with her silence.
I closed my eyes for a moment, pressing her hand gently between mine.
The nurse came in not long after. She was young, smiling kindly as she carried in a small tray. “The man
with your wound,” she said. “Said you wouldn’t let anyone else touch it.”
I blinked. “What?”
noutside asked me to help
She smiled wider. “He looked really anxious. Kept asking if you were okay. Must be someone close, huh?”
I let out a short, cold laugh, shaking my head.
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She didn’t press the subject. Just knelt beside me and began cleaning the cut on my leg with quiet efficiency.
I looked at Auntie again.
up, I thought. Just once more. So I can tell you everything.
Please wake up. I the
After a while, I stepped out of the ICU, the heavy door clicking shut behind me.
Only Damien remained there, waiting for me. Leaning against the wall like he’d been standing there for hours, he looked helpless.
He straightened when he saw me, settled for the most meaningless thing he could latch onto.
“Your injury…” he said quietly.
“I don’t need your concern,” I said, voice flat and cold. I didn’t let him finish.
His mouth parted slightly, maybe to argue, maybe to explain, but I wasn’t in the mood to entertain his confusion.
At that moment, any gratitude I had for him showing up when I was stranded dissolved the moment I saw his face again.
Because after the anniversary, all he saw when he looked at me was a lie. And I couldn’t let myself feel that again.
What if he had believed me back then? What if he had listened before everything spiraled? Maybe the orphanage would not have been set on fire. Maybe Auntie would still be okay now.
Regret pressed against my ribs like something sharp and bitter.
He took a step closer. “I’ve already called in a specialist. The best ICU team in the city. I’ve arranged-”
“Why?” I snapped, cutting him off mid–sentence. “To ease your conscience?”
He froze.
“Where was all this ‘help‘ when I needed it?” My voice rose. “Where were your specialists when I was being dragged through headlines and hospital floors? When I screamed that I was telling the truth and no one listened?”
Damien’s expression twisted with guilt and shame.
“What use is any of this now?” I demanded, my voice breaking slightly. “It’s too late.”
I stood there, trembling–not from fear, but from the sheer force of everything I had kept locked inside for far too long.
“Celeste, I didn’t mean for it to happen like that…” Damien’s voice was low–frayed at the edges, like even he didn’t know how to hold the pieces together anymore.
“You never trusted me,” I said, the words thick with rage. “Not once. You looked at me like I w version of the girl you married. And you let everyone else do the same.”
Damien’s lips parted like he might interrupt, but I didn’t let him.
I was a stranger–like some twisted
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“No,” I snapped, my voice shaking. “Don’t speak. You don’t get to explain anymore. “.
His face paled, jaw tight.
“You think I’m capable of anything, don’t you? That I’d lie about anyone, destroy anything, just to get what I want.”
I could barely breathe–choking on the fury, on the grief that had been buried too long. Tears stung my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Not now.
Damien looked like he had been slapped.
“Celeste, I know I made mistakes, but I never stopped –“He cut himself off, biting down on whatever truth he wasn’t ready to admit.
“I loved you,” I whispered, bitter and raw. “God help me, I did. And you made me regret every second of it.”
He took a step forward, but I recolled as if his presence burned.
“Don’t follow me “I hissed.
Then, cold and final, I looked him in the eye. “You don’t get to care now.”
I turned away before he could see the tears finally fall and walked back toward the ICU room–toward Auntie, the only person who had ever loved me without question,
The moment the door shut behind me, I let out a shaky breath. My gown still clung to me like a second skin, now stained with dust, blood, and a night I wished I could forget.
My phone buzzed in my purse.
[Theo: Are you okay? Where did you go?]
[Harper: Celeste. What happened? I heard something happened at the hospital–please tell me you’re alright.]
I stared at the screen.
To Harper, I typed a short message with trembling fingers: [My aunt’s in the ICU. The condition worsened. Just… overwhelmed.]
To Theo, my thumb hovered for a moment longer.
I typed: [It’s nothing.I
And hit send. Because what else could I say?
I thought of the man I saw him talking to at the gala. The way his assistant had blocked me with a look that said, not now, not
you.
I closed my eyes and leaned back in the chair beside Auntie’s bed.
What a mess my life had become.
And what scared me most–was that this mess? It wasn’t done with me yet. It was just starting.
