Chapter 40 Suffering Again
Ivy stopped breathing. Her entire world went silent. It was as if all the happiness in her life had been cruelly wiped away in an instant, replaced by nothing but an empty void.
Her heart pounded, her breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, her mind went completely blank. But then, panic surged through her veins.
She scrambled off the couch, her hands shaking as she rushed toward the door. In her panic, she barely managed to slip on her slippers, not even noticing that she had put on mismatched ones.
As she stepped outside to look for a taxi, a sleek black car came to a screeching halt in front of her. The window rolled down, revealing Samuel behind the wheel.
“Mrs. Evans, I’m here to pick you up.”
Without wasting a second, Ivy flung open the door and got into the backseat. Samuel sped down the streets, his grip tight on the steering wheel.
Ivy’s throat was choked with emotion. She couldn’t breathe. Sitting in this very car, where she had once sat in Christian’s lap so many times, felt unbearable now. The memories were suffocating.
The drive to the hospital felt agonizingly slow, despite Samuel pushing the speed limit. The moment they arrived, she and Samuel rushed inside, weaving through the hallways until they reached Christian’s room.
Outside, Hank paced back and forth, his face lined with tension.
The second Ivy reached him, Hank grabbed her arm and pulled her aside.
"The doctor is checking on him right now," Hank said, his voice laced with worry.
Ivy stiffened. "What happened to him all of a sudden?" she asked, her breath hitching in fear.
Hank exhaled sharply, running a hand over his forehead. “When Christian went to work, his mother was waiting outside his office. The moment he saw her, his body just locked up again, just like before.”
Ivy’s blood turned cold.
Hank’s expression darkened with pain. "I don’t understand why she keeps coming back. She was horrible to him. She found a lover while she was pregnant with Christian and started hating our marriage. Then, out of nowhere, she took Christian and disappeared—only to abandon him and run away! Why the fuck does she keep showing up in his life now?"
Ivy’s chest tightened with an unbearable ache. How could a mother do that to her own child? Even if she had fallen out of love with Hank, how could she abandon a young, innocent Christian—leaving him alone in the world just to chase her own happiness?
And now, because of her, Christian was suffering again.
A lump formed in her throat. The pain was unbearable. She had already lost five years with him. She couldn’t lose him again.
She hadn’t even told him that she was in love with him yet.
Her eyes burned with unshed tears, her chest aching with a pain in silent agony.
Just then, the door to the room opened, and a doctor stepped out.
“He’s in stable condition now,” he announced. “One of you can go in and see him.”
Ivy’s feet felt rooted to the ground. She turned to Hank, but before she could say anything, he had already let go of her arm.
"Go inside, Ivy. Help him get better faster," he said, his voice softer now. "I regret not bringing you to that brat five years ago. I’m not making that mistake again."
Tears spilled over Ivy’s lashes as she whispered, "Thank you, Hank."
Then, she turned and rushed inside.
Christian was lying on the hospital bed, his hands resting at his sides, his legs stretched out, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. He looked so lost. Detached.
Without thinking, she rushed to him and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight.
At first, Christian’s body was stiff—frozen, like a statue. But then, slowly, as if her touch melted the ice within him, his tense muscles loosened. His eyes shifted to her.
"Christian," she whispered, her breaths uneven, her voice thick with pain. "Don’t worry. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere."
She felt his arms move. They hesitated for a moment before sliding around her waist, pulling her in. His body, which had been rigid like stone, softened little by little.
She tightened her grip on him, pulling him up slightly, helping him sit. The movements were awkward, but she didn’t let go.
As he sat up, something warm landed on her shoulder—his tears.
His grip on her waist tightened, his breath rough and uneven. His chest rose and fell sharply, like he was barely holding himself together. Then, in a voice so low and raw it sent a sharp ache through her, he rasped,
"You were gone for so long… Why did you leave me for five years?"
His broken voice cut through her like a blade.
“Christian, you left me. You were the one who—”
"Why didn’t you look for me? You knew how much I loved you!" He interrupted, his voice edged with pain. His burning gaze locked onto hers, his entire body tense, but his fingers dug into her arms, snatching her closer. He crushed her against him, burying his face in her neck as his body shook with silent, restrained sobs.
"You should have come to me, looked for me," he ground out. "Why the hell did you leave me alone for five fucking years, Ivy?"
Ivy’s chest clenched, her own tears falling freely. She reached up, her hands trembling as she cupped his face, forcing him to look at her.
"I won’t leave," she swore, her voice shaking but firm. "Never again."
Christian’s jaw tightened, but his tears came faster. His red-rimmed eyes bore into hers, raw, exposed. He looked nothing like the cold, controlled man the world knew. Right now, he was jus t her Christian—strong yet vulnerable, fierce yet breaking.
And yet, it shattered her.
Slowly, his tears faded, exhaustion taking over his body. His eyelids grew heavy. She carefully laid him back down, but his arms never loosened around her waist. He refused to let go.
So, she stayed.
She lay beside him on the hospital bed, their bodies pressed together, facing each other. His face was no longer wet with tears, but the redness around his eyes told her how much pain he had endured.
Her heart clenched.
The Christian of five years ago still lived inside him—this man who had been broken by the world yet still carried so much love for her. He had endured hell, yet he never wanted to see her suffer.
Her lips trembled. Leaning in, she pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.
Her fingers trailed along his face, caressing him with gentle strokes. Even in his sleep, his hold on her never loosened.
And then, in the quiet of the room, a whisper escaped her lips, meant only for him.
“I love you, Christian.”
Her own eyes grew heavy, and before she knew it, she fell asleep beside him.
When she woke up, Christian had shifted. His arm was beneath her head, his other hand clutching the back of her head, keeping her pressed against his chest. He was already awake.
She blinked in surprise and sat up, rubbing her sleepy eyes.
"What time is it?" she mumbled. Then, realization hit. "Oh God, your dad must be worried! I should’ve gone out and informed him hours ago that you’re—”
She started to slip out of bed, but before she could, Christian’s arms tightened around her waist.
With one swift motion, he pulled her back against his chest, burying his face into her neck.
Soft kisses brushed against her skin.
"Dad already came in and saw you crushing me with your hug," Christian's voice carried a teasing lilt as he spoke. "He’s gone out to get some meds. He’ll be back in a while."
Ivy’s horrified gaze shot to Christian, her eyes wide with shock. "Why didn’t you wake me up? Oh my God, that must have looked so weird! You are the patient and I was sleeping on top of you. Jesus!"
Christian's body shook against hers with a low chuckle. He leaned in, whispering against her ear, "Don’t worry. He was just happy to see me doing well so soon, unlike the last attack. He could have practically hopped out of this room in joy."
Ivy stared into Christian’s eyes, still anxious, but before she could say anything, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss on her lips. A tremor ran through her body at the gentle touch.
Christian smiled at her reaction, then trailed another kiss along her cheek before pulling back, burying his face against her neck from behind. His lips brushed softly against her skin, sending tingles down her spine.
Defeated, she gave in, allowing him to hold her.
The hours passed, evening fading into the night.
When Ivy finally got up, she walked to the bathroom. As she stepped out, the door to the room suddenly opened. Assuming it was Hank with the medicine, she looked up—only to freeze.
A woman walked in instead.
She wasn’t dressed poorly, but her clothes weren’t expensive either. Her face was slightly aged, carrying traces of time and wear. Her gaze fell on Ivy first, then slowly drifted to Christian’s bed.
Ivy followed her line of sight, turning to look at Christian, only to be met with a sight that made her stomach drop.
Christian had gone rigid. His entire body was frozen, his eyes locked onto the woman as if he had seen a ghost. And right before her eyes, Ivy watched in horror as his body seemed to lose all control—his legs gave out, and he fell back onto the bed, sitting down as if the strength had been drained from him.
Then, his gaze snapped to Ivy.
Her heart pounded in her chest, fear creeping up her spine. This felt like a nightmare, one she prayed wasn’t real. But the more she saw the color drain from Christian’s face, the more that fear became reality.
Panic surged through Ivy’s chest. "Christian!" She rushed toward him, her heart pounding wildly.