Collide Into Ruin

Chapter 19 No More Waiting

The night stretched wide above her, an endless expanse of inky black stitched with silver. The air smelled of salt and jasmine, the distant murmur of the waves below blending with the soft hum of the city beyond the resort's secluded edges.

Emilia sat at the rooftop's edge, her legs tucked to her chest, the cool stone pressing against her palms. It was quiet up here. Peaceful.

She had always found comfort in solitude. It was safe, predictable. Up here, there were no expectations, no lingering gazes waiting for her to crack open and spill everything she held inside.

And yet, for the first time in a long time, she wasn't hiding.

She was just... existing.

A breeze swept through, brushing loose strands of hair across her face. Emilia exhaled, watching the night swallow her breath.

This year had been a hurricane.

There were days she still couldn't believe it—how easily the life she had built unraveled right before her eyes. If she closed them, she could still feel it, that moment everything shifted.

The text message.

Just a single notification, glowing on her screen like a warning. Hallie's name. The weight in her stomach before she even read it. And then—

The world as she knew it cracked down the middle.

She had thought she was over it. The heartbreak, the anger. But it wasn't just about Chase cheating—it was about how easily he had discarded her. Like she had never mattered. Like the years she spent loving him were nothing.

The confrontation played back in her mind like a film reel, grainy and raw.

Chase's voice, defensive. "You act like I meant to hurt you."

The way her stomach had twisted. "That's the worst part, Chase. You didn't even think about me at all."

She had spent so long holding onto the pieces of that relationship, trying to figure out where she went wrong. But now, sitting here beneath the vast sky, she saw the truth.

She hadn't failed him.

She hadn't been lacking.

She wasn't the reason he betrayed her.

Chase had made his choices, and she had survived them.

That realization settled over her like the tide, washing away the last remnants of guilt she hadn't even realized she was still carrying.

But it wasn't just Chase.

This entire year had tested her in ways she never could've imagined.

She had spent months building walls, convinced that if she let anyone in, they'd leave her in ruins. That trusting again meant risking everything.

And yet—

Henry.

Emilia bit her lip, warmth curling through her chest.

If someone had told her months ago that she'd find herself drawn to a man like Henry Kingsley, she would have laughed. He was so different from her. Loud. Confident. Relentless in the way he cared.

And yet, somehow, he had become the one thing she hadn't realized she needed.

He had seen her—the cracks, the shadows, the sharp edges she had tried to keep hidden—and he hadn't flinched. He had only drawn closer, like the idea of her being difficult was some kind of challenge he wanted to take on.

She thought about the way he looked at her. Like she was worth something.

She thought about the nights he cooked for her, even when she insisted she wasn't hungry.

She thought about the way his voice softened when he said her name.

He had been patient, never demanding more than she was ready to give. But she wasn't afraid anymore.

She was ready.

Emilia's fingers curled against the rooftop edge, her pulse steady.

Maybe she didn't have all the answers yet. Maybe she was still healing. But for the first time in a long time, she wasn't looking back with regret.

She was looking forward.

To whatever came next.

And this time, she wouldn't run from it.

Emilia let out a quiet sigh, stretching her legs out in front of her. The rooftop had given her clarity, but now that she had finally made peace with so much, she was ready to go back down and—well, live.

She glanced toward the door leading back inside and frowned.

Where the hell is Travis?

He had said he'd be right back—something about grabbing a drink and checking on things downstairs. That had to be at least twenty minutes ago.

Rolling her eyes, she pushed herself up, dusting off the back of her dress. If she knew Travis, he had probably gotten distracted talking to someone—or worse, roped into some nonsense by the Tipsy Tortoise staff.

With that thought, she made her way downstairs.

The moment Emilia stepped into the bar, the familiar energy of the Tipsy Tortoise wrapped around her. The scent of spiced rum and citrus lingered in the air, mingling with laughter, music, and the ever-present sound of glasses clinking.

And, of course—

"Well, well, look who finally decided to grace us with her presence," Annie called out from behind the bar, smirking. "Thought you might've ditched us for your mysterious rooftop brooding session."

Emilia rolled her eyes, already grinning. "Maybe I just enjoy peace and quiet."

"Yeah? Then why'd you come down here?" Annie leaned on the counter, eyebrows raised. "You missed us, didn't you?"

"Don't flatter yourself."

"Oh, come on," another voice chimed in—Miguel, one of the bartenders, shaking his head. "You totally missed us."

Emilia huffed a laugh, making her way toward the bar. The Tipsy Tortoise had always been one of her favorite spots, not just because of the drinks, but because of them—the people who made it feel like home.

"Alright, alright," she said, sliding onto one of the barstools. "Maybe I missed you guys a little."

Annie gasped, pressing a hand to her chest dramatically. "Did everyone hear that? Emilia missed us! Mark the calendar, boys, this is history in the making."

"Oh, shut up."

"Never." Annie grinned before nudging a drink toward her. "Here. On the house."

Emilia eyed the bright pink cocktail suspiciously. "What is this?"

"Annie's Special," Miguel answered, deadpan.

"So it's an abomination."

"Excuse you," Annie shot back, feigning offense. "I'll have you know that's a perfectly balanced masterpiece."

"It looks like something a unicorn threw up."

"Exactly! A delicious unicorn throw-up."

Emilia laughed, taking a sip. It was, of course, way too sweet—but in the best possible way.

She spent the next few minutes catching up, trading stories, and enjoying the warm buzz of familiarity. It felt good—lighthearted, easy.

And then—

CRASH.

The sound came from the VIP room.

The entire bar seemed to pause for a beat before Annie sighed heavily. "You have got to be kidding me."

Emilia shot her a look. "What the hell was that?"

Miguel had already started wiping down the bar like he wanted nothing to do with whatever was happening back there. "Not our problem."

Annie groaned. "It's always our problem."

Without another word, Emilia and Annie exchanged a knowing glance and made their way toward the VIP section, bracing for whatever chaos awaited them.

____________________

Five Minutes Before the Crash

Travis sat across from Chase in the dimly lit VIP room, arms crossed, watching the man unravel before his eyes.

Chase was drunk—sloppy drunk. His beer bottle dangled from his fingers; his jaw clenched so tight it looked painful. He hadn't stopped talking since Travis sat down, but none of it made sense. A mess of anger, self-pity, and denial.

"She just—" Chase exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "She just threw it all away. Almost ten damn years, and she just—walks?" His eyes flickered up to Travis, searching for agreement.

Travis sighed. "You cheated on her, Chase."

Chase scoffed, tossing back another gulp of beer. "Oh, please. We've been through worse."

Travis didn't bother hiding his disgust. "Worse? You lied to her for months, you humiliated her, and now you're sitting here acting like she's the one who threw it away?" He shook his head. "Man, she didn't throw anything away. You did."

Chase flinched, just for a second. It was brief—so brief that most people would have missed it.

But Travis saw it.

Because deep down, Chase knew.

Knew he had burned everything to the ground with his own hands. Knew he had made choices—selfish, reckless, cruel choices—that led them to this moment.

And yet, he couldn't say it.

Instead, he sneered, leaning back in his chair. "She would've stayed if she really loved me."

Travis exhaled sharply through his nose, barely suppressing his frustration. "Jesus Christ, Chase." He rubbed a hand down his face. "Do you even hear yourself?"

Chase's grip on his beer bottle tightened. "She acts like she's better than me now," he muttered, voice lower, darker. "Like she's so strong for leaving. But I made her. I built her. And now she's what—pretending I'm the big bad wolf?" He let out a hollow laugh. "She's nothing without me."

Travis felt his patience snap.

"You are nothing without her."

Chase's head whipped up, eyes narrowing.

Travis didn't stop. "You were at your best when she loved you. And now look at you." He gestured around the room, at the half-empty bottles, at the bitterness pooling in Chase's eyes. "She's moving on, man. She's happy.Meanwhile, you're just some washed-up asshole drinking yourself stupid because you can't face the fact that you lost her."

Chase's breathing turned sharp, uneven. "Shut up."

"You want to be mad at someone?" Travis pressed, undeterred. "Be mad at yourself. You had a woman who would've given you everything, and you chose to throw it away. So now, you get to live with that. You get to live with knowing she's never coming back."

Chase went still.

For one horrible, fleeting moment, it all sank in. The truth, the finality of it.

And it felt like hell.

Because no matter how much he wanted to convince himself otherwise—

He had lost her.

Not just for now. Not just until he could smooth-talk his way back into her life.

Forever.

Something inside him cracked.

And then—he snapped.

With a guttural growl, Chase launched his beer bottle across the room.

It shattered against the wall, the sound exploding through the air just as Emilia stepped into the VIP section.

She froze.

Chase's breath was heavy, his fists clenched. He hadn't even noticed her yet.

But Travis had.

And judging by the look on her face... she had heard everything.

The strangest thing was—she wasn't hurt.

Months ago, those words would have wrecked her. Hearing him dismiss her, reduce her to nothing—it would have buried itself deep inside her, festering, making her question everything.

But now?

Now, she just felt tired.

And maybe a little sorry for him.

When Chase finally turned and saw her standing there, something flickered across his face—shock, maybe even a hint of guilt. But then, like always, he buried it beneath arrogance.

"Well, well," he drawled. "Speak of the devil."

Emilia tilted her head, studying him like he was a stranger.

Because that's exactly what he was.

"You know," she said slowly, voice steady, "I thought hearing you say those things would hurt." She met his eyes. "But it doesn't."

Chase scoffed. "Oh, come on, Em."

"No," she cut him off, stepping forward. "You don't get to do that. Not anymore."

His jaw twitched.

"I loved you, Chase." The words came out with no hesitation, no bitterness. Just simple, undeniable truth. "I loved you, and you threw it away."

Chase shifted uncomfortably. "It wasn't—"

"No," she interrupted again. "I need you to hear this. You made this choice. You picked her over me. You picked yourself over me. And I'm done pretending like that didn't happen."

Chase swallowed hard, looking away.

"You don't get to sit here and act like I was supposed to wait around while you decided whether I was worth it." Her voice was soft but firm. "I was worth it. You just didn't see it."

A heavy silence filled the room.

Travis stood by, arms crossed, watching Chase's expression flicker between anger and something dangerously close to regret.

"You need to get your shit together," Emilia finally said. "Because this—" she gestured at the wreckage around him, the broken bottle, the mess he had become—"this is pathetic."

Chase's throat bobbed as he swallowed, hands curling into fists. "Em—"

"You chose," she said simply. "Now you get to live with it."

And just like that, she turned on her heel and walked away.

Leaving Chase behind.

Leaving the past behind.

And stepping into the life that was, finally, fully hers.

__________________

The VIP room felt heavier than ever, the air thick with the weight of finality.

Annie was already on the phone, calling someone to clean up the mess Chase had left behind. Glass shards scattered across the floor, the remnants of his fury, but the real wreckage—the one that mattered—was standing motionless in the middle of the room.

Chase just stood there, his hands limp at his sides, his expression hollow. He had lost her. Officially. Irrevocably.

His breath came out sharp as realization sank in, and then, with a growl of frustration, he slammed his fist against the counter. The impact echoed, but it didn't bring her back. Nothing would.

Liam and Travis exchanged a glance, wordlessly agreeing it was time to get Chase out of there. Liam clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Let's go, man."

Chase didn't resist. He didn't have the energy to fight anymore.

Liam turned to Travis. "Go check on Em. I'll get Chase to the car."

Travis gave a short nod and slipped out, his gaze immediately scanning for Emilia.

She was outside, leaning against the cold brick wall of the bar, her arms wrapped around herself. But not in defeat. Not in sadness.

In release.

For the first time in years, Emilia felt weightless.

The confrontation with Chase had been the last chain snapping free. She had spent so long carrying his burdens, trying to fix his messes, waiting for the man she loved to finally choose her. But Chase had never been hers—not really. And she was done pretending otherwise.

She exhaled, watching her breath curl into the cold night air.

She did feel bad for him. Pity, even. But he was a grown man, and it wasn't her job to save him. She had sacrificed enough of her happiness trying.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, pulling her from her thoughts. She hesitated before glancing down at the screen.

Henry.

Her chest tightened, but this time, it wasn't from sadness.

Henry: Business dinners are the worst. I think I've made a terrible mistake—these things should be banned unless you're there to keep me entertained. From now on, I refuse to have dinner without you.

A small, unbidden smile tugged at her lips. She could hear his voice in her head, that teasing lilt, the way he made everything feel lighter. Easier.

Another message came through.

Henry: I miss you so much, Em. Next week, work is taking me to Hong Kong, but all I'll be thinking about is coming back to you. When I do, we'll finish decorating together—I can't wait to make our home even more perfect with you.

Henry: Oh, and I've entrusted Cayden with a very special black card, just for you. Use it for anything and everything our home needs—no holding back! I know whatever you choose will be beautiful, just like you. I can't wait to see what magic you create.

Emilia inhaled sharply.

Our home.

Her fingers hovered over the screen, her heart thudding against her ribs.

She could still feel the ghosts of old wounds, the echoes of all the times she had been left waiting. But Henry had never made her wait. He had never made her feel like a second choice.

No more hesitation. No more doubt.

Before she could second-guess herself, she typed the words and pressed send.

Emilia: Let's get married. I don't want to wait anymore either.

___________