Chapter Twenty-One #2
“I haven’t talked to Charlotte about it,” he added, turning to me fully, his expression serious. “You know… everything you told me yesterday. I thought it would be better coming from you.” He paused. “We should rip the bandage off and do it now. Tell them both.”
My stomach twisted at the thought. But he was right. Ethan would want to know, and he’d be pissed if he found out I’d known and kept it from him.
Just then, a nurse stepped through the doors and headed toward us. Alarm shot through me, but her posture was relaxed.
“That must be about the move,” Oliver said.
“Mr. Langley?” she said once she reached us. “They’ve already started transferring your father out of the ICU. He’ll be settled in his new room shortly. You can head up to the third floor now, and once he’s stable, someone will come get you.”
“Thank you,” Oliver said, relief softening his whole face. As she walked away, he caught my gaze once more.
“Yeah,” I said. “Might as well, right?”
Oliver gave me a solemn nod, and we went to them. Our Bennetts.
Henry came with us. There was no reason for him not to, and while we waited for news about the transfer, we settled into a small waiting area, close enough to hear if we were called.
Ethan sat beside me, Charlotte on his left and the rest close.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” I said, looking at both of them.
Charlotte was worrying her lip, but she nodded right away. Ethan’s brows furrowed.
I kept my eyes on him. “About your dad.”
He stilled. Charlotte’s fingers went around his hand immediately.
“What about him?” Ethan asked.
“Do you remember when I asked if I could look into him?”
Worry crept into the edges of his expression.
“Well… I did.”
The muscle in his jaw ticked, his posture going very still. Charlotte had already told him his dad was in the city. At least I didn’t have to be the one to drop that part on him.
“I wasn’t sure if I should bring it up, especially with everything going on,” I continued. “But with him in town… you need to know.”
Oliver nodded once in agreement.
“Go on,” Ethan said quietly.
“He’s not just bad with money.” I held his gaze. “He’s been running investment scams—taking people’s savings, promising big returns, shuffling funds around to make it look legitimate. And he hasn’t exactly been honest with the IRS, either. They’re starting to take notice.”
Charlotte’s breath left her in a soft, broken sound.
Ethan didn’t react right away. “He’s being investigated?” His voice was nearly emotionless.
“Yes,” I said. “And it’s serious. Financial penalties and possible criminal charges. Maybe not prison, but it won’t just disappear this time.”
“And my trust?” He swallowed. “Was that—?”
“It was part of it. He probably used it to cover losses. Hid it. Claimed things he shouldn’t have. Because it was a joint account, it wasn’t technically theft. But it still became part of the mess.”
Ethan let out a quiet breath. “So I was useful.” A hollow edge crept in. “Convenient.”
“Hey,” Charlotte whispered, squeezing his hand. “No.”
He stared straight ahead, like he was watching the truth assemble itself piece by piece.
“Darling, none of this is on you.” I leaned in slightly. “He took advantage of you. That doesn’t make you culpable. It makes you exploited.”
His jaw clenched hard.
“And now you have a choice,” I said carefully. “If you want, you can come forward. Talk to investigators. Your timeline, emails, bank records—it would help establish a pattern. It won’t give you your money back. But it could hold him accountable. Legally.” My gaze went to all of them. “Publicly.”
The room went quiet. Very quiet.
Then the reactions started to unfold. Charlotte’s eyes filled. Henry looked furious—his fist pressed to his lips, eyes blazing.
“And if I don’t?” Ethan asked.
“Then you don’t,” I said. “This is your call. Not mine. Not anyone else’s.
There will be fallout if they can prove it—press, questions, public attention.
And both of our families will get called out because of who we are to each other.
” My gaze flicked to Charlotte and Oliver.
“So it’s something to weigh. But no one here is going to pressure you. Or blame you.”
Charlotte exhaled and nodded. “He’s right. E… it’s your call.”
Ethan finally looked at her. “Did you know about this?”
“Not this,” she said. “Not the details. But… about a year after the wedding, he came to Oli and me. He was all charm and family, and I missed you both—until he asked for money. Wanted Oli to ‘invest’ in something vague. Wouldn’t show paperwork. He just kept insisting we should trust him.”
Oliver drew her closer, his palm steady at her back.
“And when I told him no,” Charlotte continued, “he turned cold. Said if I wasn’t on his side, I wasn’t worth staying in his life. Then he cut me off.” She let out a small, disbelieving breath. “I thought I’d pushed him away. But now…”
Ethan stared at her, something clicking into place. Doubt giving way to understanding.
“He left because I wasn’t profitable,” she said softly. “That’s on him. Not us.”
Ethan’s face didn’t crumple. Didn’t shatter. But something behind his eyes gave. He dragged a hand over his mouth, exhaling a shaky breath. “So that’s it, then. The money’s gone.” His eyes finally found mine. “Right?”
I reached out, brushing my thumb over the back of his hand. “It is. But he doesn’t have to get away with it. You don’t owe him silence.”
He nodded once. “I need a little time,” he said, voice steady despite everything crashing inside him. “To process.” His fingers tightened around mine. “But thank you. For not letting him blindside me. Again.”
Always, I wanted to say. Instead, I just bowed my head.
Oliver squeezed his shoulder. Charlotte leaned into him. Henry didn’t speak but moved in closer.
Our little world closed ranks around him.
Because whatever he chose—
We were already on his side.
Time passed without any of us moving, just breathing together and letting the weight of it settle. Eventually, people began to peel away—Charlotte following a nurse for paperwork, Oliver stepping aside to talk to a doctor, Henry disappearing with Vivian to check on my father’s new room.
And then it was just us, standing side by side.
“Does my mom know?” Ethan asked after a while.
I shook my head. “Oli was the only one who knew. And I only found out a couple of weeks ago. I didn’t tell you because… well.” I huffed softly. “You know why.”
His arms were crossed, but he wasn’t closed off. His body angled toward me, leaning in without actually touching.
Then his hands dragged over his face. “Fuck—it’s been a week, hasn’t it?”
“It has.” I watched him carefully. “Do you want to go back to the apartment?”
He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, staring past me for a moment. “No, but…” His eyes finally met mine. “I think I should go, Ash. Back to Madrid.”
My chest deflated a little, but he was right. Our father was stable, and Ethan didn’t have to stand here avoiding his father if he didn’t want to.
“End of semester’s coming up,” he went on. “Exams. I’ve already missed enough. And I need to get back to work.” A breath slipped out of him. “I can’t afford to fall behind right now.”
“I’ll get the plane ready,” I said automatically. “Drive you to the airport.”
That earned me a look. “No private jet rescue mission, Mr. Langley.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “I’ll fly commercial tomorrow night.”
I caught his hand before he could drop it. “Can I at least book that?”
He squeezed my fingers once, shaking his head, his lips pressed together with an amused tilt. “And just so you know, I also have to go to the bank and figure out a loan for next semester… and I don’t want your input on that either.”
I forced myself not to slip back into the role I knew too well. “That’s… fine by me.” I exhaled through my nose, swallowing the instinct to argue. “I love watching you voluntarily sign up for unnecessary interest rates.”
That pulled a real laugh out of him. Then his gaze dropped to our hands, and something softer moved through his expression. “You’re staying, right?”
“For a little while,” I said. “Until he’s really out of the woods.”
He nodded slowly, absorbing it. “Life just keeps getting in the way…”
I slid my hand to the back of his neck, thumb brushing just under his hairline. “It does.” A beat. “But we’re good.”
He searched my face.
“You and me.” My grip tightened slightly. “We’re good, right?”
He hesitated, and I saw it—the fragility, the fear, the history. It hurt, but why wouldn’t he be careful with me? I’d earned that caution.
“You’re coming back?” he asked.
“Of course.”
Another beat. Then he nodded. “Then we’re good.” And with a faint warning in his tone, he added, “Don’t disappear on me again, and we’re good.”
Relief washed through me. I stepped into him instead of answering, pulling him close. He folded into it immediately, arms wrapping around my waist, holding tight for one long second before easing back.
I frowned at his sudden retreat.
“We’re in public.” He gave a small shrug. “Eyes everywhere, remember?”
I hated that.
I really fucking hated it.
And I hated that he was right. That we still had things to say.
Things to repair. Things to build—properly this time—instead of just falling into bed and pretending none of it mattered.
We needed that foundation before rumors spun out of control and everyone decided to weigh in on whether we should or shouldn’t be together.
It was going to kill me to watch him leave tomorrow, but a couple of weeks was nothing compared to everything we’d already survived.
I kept hold of his hand. “At least I still have you tonight.”
He smiled—softer this time.
I lifted our joined hands and pressed my lips to his knuckles, holding them there for a moment longer than necessary.
He didn’t pull away.
So I stayed right there—not ready to test how easily this could break.
By the time we reached the apartment, the cold had settled deep into my bones.