Chapter 17 #2
Joe's expression hesitated. My head buzzed.
Seeing my agitation, Joe sighed heavily.
"Maya's in the ICU. She was already in late-stage kidney failure.
Last night, when she heard about your bleeding, she was running all over the hospital.
After she finished your admission forms, she collapsed from exhaustion and complications. "
I slumped on the bed, limbs numb, brain blank.
"No..." I couldn't breathe. "I need to see her!"
"You don't need to!" Joe spoke quickly. "Your husband Lucas already arranged everything for her."
I hadn't heard that name in so long, my brain lagged. "Lucas? How would he know?"
Joe smiled bitterly. "After Maya collapsed, the hospital pulled up your emergency contact through the medical system. Your legal husband."
Joe told me everything that happened while I was unconscious.
I leaned back, unable to process. Across thousands of miles, Lucas had somehow learned what happened and helped. He'd mobilized top medical resources for Maya. Very much his style.
In his eyes, any problem money could solve wasn't a problem. Even just scraps from his fingertips could provide Maya with medical care I never could.
I knew Lucas only helped because the hospital system contacted him, and out of family honor, he had no choice. Probably his assistant team handled it. But then a voice mocked me cruelly.
See, Ella? You still can't escape him. Lucas is your anchor. Without him, you're nothing. You thought you could be independent, support Maya and the baby yourself. But reality? One emergency and you're back to relying on his money to clean up the mess.
All day, I lay in that hospital bed like a lab rat under observation, letting doctors and nurses poke and prod me. Every two hours, someone drew blood, checked blood pressure, and monitored fetal heart rate. By three PM, I could recite every beep that machine made.
When Joe came for rounds, I was staring at a water stain on the ceiling, trying to see some life lesson in its shape.
"Good news," he said, holding my chart. "All your numbers look stable. You can go home."
"Really?" I practically bounced off the bed.
"Yeah." Joe nodded, smiling, familiar warmth in his eyes. "I'll drive you."
I hesitated. Since Joe's confession, I hadn't taken rides from him. But if I ran into those stalkers again in my current condition, I wouldn't stand a chance. For safety, I needed to trouble Joe this once.
I smiled at him gratefully. However you looked at it, Joe had helped me tremendously in this city, at this hospital.
Joe's secondhand Honda was always clean and fresh, smelling faintly of wood—like him, always putting people at ease.
"Hungry?" Joe's voice was gentle. "I can take you to get something to eat first."
"No thanks. I want to go home and study." I caught a hint of something troubling and quickly added, "The blood in my room hasn't been cleaned either. I don't want to pay the landlord for the carpet."
Joe smiled. "Need help?"
"No." For some reason, I didn't want a strange man in my space yet. Their hormones might make everything spin out of control. "Thank you, Joe." Realizing my tone was stiff, I softened it.
Joe nodded without saying more.
The car soon turned onto my street. The shabby apartment building looked even more depressing at night, streetlights flashing over graffiti on the walls.
Joe stopped the car downstairs and killed the engine this time.
"We're here," he said, but didn't look at me. Just stared at the steering wheel.
"Yeah," I responded, hand on the door handle, then heard Joe urgently call my name. "Ella!"
"Yeah?" I turned back to see tension in his expression. I suddenly realized what was coming and grew tense myself. I could bolt, but that would be rude. Besides, Joe wouldn't hurt me.
After a silence, Joe finally spoke. "I know you don't want to hear this now, but I still need to say it... My feelings haven't changed."
My fingers tightened on the door handle.
"I know the timing's wrong. I know you're still dealing with him." He turned to look at me, eyes painfully sincere. "But I want you to know that when you're ready, I'll be here."
Then he did something I completely didn't expect.
He leaned toward me, slow and careful, like he was afraid of startling something fragile.
I should have pulled away. Should have said no. Should have bolted from the car.
But I didn't.
I just sat there like a deer frozen in headlights, watching him get closer—I thought, I'm just so tired. Maya's situation, the baby, studying, everything piling on me alone. Maybe I needed some comfort. Even just as friends.
His lips brushed my cheek softly. Warm. Tender. With restrained gentleness.
A polite kiss. A comforting kiss. But when my breath mingled with his, something long-suppressed ignited silently in that cramped space. Joe's breathing quickened. Like he'd suddenly lost control, the restrained kiss slid from my cheek to my lips.
The kiss shifted from gentle to urgent, carrying unprecedented longing.
"Joe!" I jerked back, body avoiding his.
He stopped immediately, pulling back like he'd been burned.
"Sorry," he said, voice hoarse. "I... sorry. I shouldn't have..."
"It's fine." I cut him off, but my heart was pounding out of my chest. "I just... I have to go."
I pushed the door open. Cold air rushed in like a slap across both our faces.
"Ella, wait—"
"Goodnight, Joe." I practically fled the car, ankle flaring with pain from moving too fast.
I slammed the door, hearing its heavy thud. I could feel Joe watching through the window, but I didn't look back. Just hurried toward the building entrance, fingers fumbling in my bag for keys.
Where the hell were those keys?
My hands shook. Finally found them, opened the building door. Open, close. Never once looked back at Joe.
But I didn't hear the engine start. That burning gaze stayed glued to my back.
Until I escaped into the elevator lobby. Only then did I dare lean against the wall, gasping.
God, what just happened?
That wasn't Joe's first confession, but that kiss... okay, it wasn't even really a kiss.
The elevator climbed slowly. I stared at my distorted reflection in the metal doors. My brain started racing.
Maybe I should give him a chance?
Joe was a good man. Kind, thoughtful, stable job, good to Maya. Most importantly, Joe knew I was pregnant and would accept my child. He could give the baby a father's love. Let the child grow up in a healthy, happy family.
List those conditions on paper and Joe was the perfect option. And if I could accept him, wouldn't that mean I could finally say goodbye to this two-year nightmare?
But when I stepped out of the elevator, every thought froze instantly.
At the end of the hallway by the window, a crimson ember glowed in the dark. Someone was smoking by the window at the end of the hall. The figure faced away from me, tall silhouette leaning against the floor-to-ceiling window, shrouded in smoke and shadow.
Even just a silhouette, I recognized him.
Lucas.
He seemed to hear my footsteps and slowly turned around. In that moment, I almost forgot how to breathe.
Light slanted into the hallway, bathing him like a cold marble statue. His gaze locked on me, something dangerous flickering in his eyes. Anger. Bitterness. And something more terrifying.
"So that's why you were so eager to throw me out of your life like garbage, isn't it? Because of that man in the car?" he spoke, voice a low rumble deep in his throat.
I stood frozen, brain blank.
He dropped the cigarette and ground it out with his shoe. Sparks scattered, especially harsh in the dim hallway. Then he started walking toward me. Each step heavy, like he wanted to leave footprints in the floor.
I backed away instinctively until my spine hit the cold wall.
"Tell me!" His tone was commanding.
"What?"
"That doctor." He spat the words like something filthy. "Joe. Are you with him?"
My heart hammered in my chest. "How is that any of your business?" I forced out. "We're divorced."
"I never signed the papers."
As he said this, he stepped closer, closing in until I could smell the heavy tobacco on him. How many cigarettes had he smoked?
"You're my wife! How could you be with another man?
" He slammed his hand against the wall by my ear, his massive shadow swallowing me instantly.
He bent down, that handsome but sinister face pressing close to my nose.
I could feel his rapid, burning breath mixed with barely suppressed rage.
"Ella, I watched from that window. Saw everything clear as day.
You were sitting in that man's piece-of-shit car.
His mouth touched you, didn't it? Where did his hands go? Here? Or here?"
His defined fingers seized my chin, force almost crushing my bones. His eyes turned red and wild in that moment.
"Let go of me! You maniac!" I screamed, shoving his hand away. "What gives you the right to control me? Wait. How did you even know I live here? You had me followed? Those weird people showing up around me lately—that was you!"
"I'm your husband!" He pinned me in the corner, pressing down on me.
"That's me protecting you! If my people weren't watching you twenty-four-seven, do you have any idea how dangerous it is for a single pretty woman living in a place like this?
What can that doctor give you? A timid kiss?
Let you struggle in this slum? He can't even pay your medical bills! "
"He gave me respect! He gave me warmth you never did!
" I screamed hysterically, all my restraint exploding in that moment.
"Lucas, every night I waited for you to come home, where were you?
I walked five kilometers in the rain, calling until your phone died—where were you then?
Did you ever consider my feelings? Now I finally don't have to wait anymore.
I gave up on you! Please just let me go!
I really can't keep living in pain like this! "
My hands flailed, fingernails scratching a bloody line across his hand.
Blood beaded on his skin. I froze.
Lucas glanced at his hand indifferently, then raised it. I thought he'd strike back and flinched away, but felt his warm fingertip brush the corner of my eye.
I startled.
When did I start crying?
I'd told myself countless times not to fall apart in front of Lucas, but when he actually appeared, I realized I couldn't help it. I could keep composed in front of everyone, even Maya. But the moment he spoke, I completely crumbled.
The massive shadow withdrew. Lucas finally released me. He fumbled in his suit pocket. I noticed his hands trembling slightly until he pulled out cigarettes again.
Lit one. The scalding red tip burned a hole in the darkness. I saw his usually proud, straight shoulders sag slightly.
"Are you with Joe? Does he really make you happy?" His voice dropped from explosive to low, almost like he was talking to himself. "You left me for over a month. Did you think about me at all? Have you forgotten me? Forgotten our home?"
I was speechless. The answer was yes.
I had thought about him, through many long nights. Even last night in the ER, bleeding out, Lucas's face had flashed through my mind. But I didn't want to tell him. I was exhausted. This marriage had drained nearly all my emotions. Now I just wanted to close my eyes and sleep.
"I don't want to discuss this. Please move. I need to go home." I bit down hard, trying to get past him.
But Lucas acted like he hadn't heard my dismissal.
He turned his head, staring into my eyes.
"Last night when I got the call, I was in a meeting in Eastern Europe.
Mrs. Hughes told me you were in the ER. Didn't know why exactly.
I got on an international flight immediately and flew back overnight.
When I got to your room, you know what I saw?
You and that man sleeping head to head!"
He watched me, gray-blue eyes churning with intense emotion. My throat tightened. When I woke up, Joe had been there. But that was only because in this city, besides Maya, Joe was my only friend who could help watch over me.
"Ella, are you going to abandon Grandfather? Abandon everything in Manhattan?"
His tone carried hurt I'd never heard before. I saw genuine pain cross his face, which shocked me so much my heart nearly jumped out.
He'd always been cold and proud, unshakable. How could he show such an expression... because of me?
I blurted out, "I didn't abandon you... I still care about home. Care whether Mr. Rockefeller is doing better."
The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them. Though it was just a habitual concern, like how I patiently asked after every elderly person at the sanatorium. But words like that shouldn't appear in this scene, in this emotional moment.
Lucas suddenly stubbed out his cigarette and strode forward, pulling me into his arms roughly, domineeringly.
"Everyone misses you... I miss you too." His head buried deep in the crook of my neck. He paused, throat working. "When I heard you were hospitalized, for one moment, I didn't want anything else. Just you, Ella... I just needed you to be okay."
My eyes started burning.
No. Don't do this.
Don't torture me like this.