Chapter 86 A Book and a Promise
The knock on the hospital room door was sharp—three quick taps, a pause, and then it swung open.
Liam followed, lugging a massive teddy bear. Chase brought up the rear, balancing a tray of gas station sushi like it was gold.
Emilia blinked. "That's a health violation."
Emilia laughed—weak, shaky, but real.
Then Liam's smile faltered. "Are you okay? Really?"
Her smile dimmed. "I'm fine. Just bruised. Tired."
No one called out the lie, but they exchanged looks. Travis sat on the bed's edge, nudging her knee.
Emilia flushed. "He's... dealing with something. It's complicated."
Emilia laughed again, full and aching.
For a moment, it was just them. Her boys. Loud, ridiculous, and exactly what she needed.
Travis kissed her forehead. "You scared us."
A comfortable silence settled. Then—
Liam and Travis straightened. The lightness dimmed.
Emilia nodded. "It's okay."
They left. The door clicked shut.
Chase sat beside her; nerves etched in every motion.
She waited.
Before she could speak, he continued.
Her fingers tightened on the blanket.
Her breath caught.
Tears slid down her cheeks. She didn't wipe them.
She reached out, taking his hand.
Chase exhaled like he'd been holding his breath for years.
For the first time in a long while, he looked free.
_________________________________________________
Emilia was alone again. Travis had ranted about the coffee, Liam threatened to smuggle her out, and their chaos still lingered in the air like perfume.
She felt wrung out. Every word echoed inside her, rattling loose the walls she'd barely held up.
She leaned back, staring at the bruises on her arms, the IV, the steady hum of machines.
A knock. Soft. Hesitant.
Before she could answer, the door opened.
Henry.
He looked like hell. Rumpled shirt, red-rimmed eyes, sleeves rolled. But when he saw her, everything in him softened.
He stepped in, closed the door, hesitated.
Then: "I brought you something."
She blinked. "Is it edible? Chase tried to kill me with sushi."
He chuckled. "Not edible." He placed a small box in her lap. "It's probably stupid."
She unwrapped it. A worn leather-bound book.
Her heart skipped. Jane Eyre.
The same edition she'd once found in Paris but didn't buy.
Her fingers brushed the cover. "Henry..."
Silence.
Emilia nodded, heart stammering. "Okay."
He looked at her like he was memorizing her face. "I know I've said it before, but I need you to hear it now—really hear it. I love you. I've loved you longer than I've known how to say it. [This book is available exclusively and for free on Wattpad. If you find it anywhere else, it has been stolen. Please report any unauthorized copies.] And I'll spend the rest of my life proving it—protecting what we have. You. Us."
The truth ached on her tongue, not ready yet.
He laughed, eyes glistening. "So... we're, okay?"
She nodded, tears brimming. "We're okay."
He leaned in, pressing his forehead to hers.
And in the hush of the hospital room, they held on—tight to each other, to the pieces still intact, to hope.
_________________________________________
The salty air clung to Zoey's skin. Her breath caught, lips still tingling.
What the hell just happened?
Ethan stood there, smirking. The shadows revealed his real face—no prosthetics, no mask.
Zoey stepped back. "I don't know why I did that."
He grinned. "Chaos turns you on."
She hated how calm he was. Like betraying Henry, manipulating her brother—it was all routine.
A beat.
She flinched, but didn't pull away.
It landed harder than she expected.
Because beneath the fire and fury, there was one truth:
She still wanted Henry.
Not love. Ownership. Control. The way she once owned Ethan—until he flipped the script.
But Henry? He had belonged to her. Until Emilia.
Emilia.
She hated her. For stealing him. For making him laugh. For making him happy.
If she couldn't have him?
She'd destroy the girl who did.
Ethan stepped back. "Midnight. Tomorrow. Warehouse 17. Come alone."
He vanished into the night.
Zoey stayed.
She should run.
Instead, she stood still, one thought echoing loud:
She was all in.