Chapter Twenty-Six Sloane
Chapter Twenty-Six
Sloane
Icould feel it creeping in.
Every muscle in my body went taut, my thoughts began to spiral, and that old, suffocating urge to shut down closed in around me.
It was like being dragged backward in time—back to the moment, over a year ago, when everything inside me collapsed.
As if the hours in therapy, the battles fought and won, had all been for nothing.
I stood outside my father’s room in my hospital—a public hospital, of all places, which he openly despised. The only consolation, at least for him, was that he’d been given one of the few VIP rooms we had, a rare luxury in a public facility.
And I couldn’t bring myself to go in.
Cameron stood beside me in silence, waiting for me to make the first move.
I knew what he feared—that I would retreat into myself again and shut everyone out.
I couldn’t even blame him for thinking that.
I was teetering on the edge, caught between the person I had fought to become and the person I used to be.
My father had survived. A broken arm, a broken leg, an emergency surgery carried out through the night by Dean and Gabriel—and still, he made it through.
The operation had been long and grueling, stretching into the early hours, and when it was finally over, the verdict was clear: the surgery was a success. He was going to live.
And yet all I could think was, why him? Why did he get to live when Xander did not? What possible reason could God have for keeping men like him in this world?
The thought dug into me like a thorn I couldn’t pull out. I hated myself for even thinking it, but it was there, pulsing beneath every breath. I couldn’t stop it.
My hands curled into fists at my sides. The door between us suddenly felt like more than just a barrier to the room. It was the wall I had built years ago, brick by brick, to keep him out. And now, standing here, I wasn’t sure if I was ready—or even willing—to tear it down.
“Sloane,” Cameron finally said, his voice a whisper.
“Yeah. I know,” I murmured.
I had been avoiding this—avoiding both my parents—from the moment he was brought in. I hadn’t sat with my mother outside the operating room, hadn’t checked on her, hadn’t even let myself walk down this hallway until now. I’d been steering clear of them completely.
Just like I had for the past year and a half.
Because seeing them meant reopening the door to the worst chapter of my life that they had caused—a wound I’d spent a year in therapy trying to stitch closed.
And now, standing here, I knew I had to choose. Step inside… or keep running.
I looked up at Cameron, who was watching me quietly.
“Will you be by my side when I go in?” I asked.
“Of course,” he said without hesitation. I knew that even if he didn’t come inside, he’d be waiting right here, restless with worry.
“I’m going to go in,” I said finally. “Nurse Joanne told me he’s regained consciousness.”
Cameron nodded.
“I can’t avoid them forever, can I?” The words were more for myself than for him. “I’ve been ignoring them for so long. And when their calls finally stopped, I thought maybe they were finally out of my life.”
He nodded again, steady and patient.
“I’m surprised he was driving here,” I went on. “He knows where I live. He could have gone there instead.”
Cameron didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. His eyes told me exactly what he was thinking—that I needed to say this, all of it.
I’d spent too much of my life bottling things up until they rotted me from the inside. Therapy had taught me better. I wasn’t going back to who I used to be. Because if I did, if I let my fear and insecurities consume me again and cloud my judgment, it would mean my parents had won.
That they had succeeded in breaking me, in twisting my life until I became exactly what they wanted. Someone who could never truly live for herself.
So I stood there, letting the words spill, my anger breaking loose, because I wasn’t sure I could carry them through that door without shattering in the process.
“In my head, there are these awful thoughts, Cam… that I hated he survived.” I searched his face, looking for the slightest flicker—anything to confirm that I was the terrible person I feared I was. But his expression stayed soft, his gaze holding mine. All I saw there was love. Understanding.
“I hated that he lived instead of Xander. I don’t want to look at his face and feel nothing but the certainty that it should have been him in that grave, not Xander.
And I’m so fucking angry, Cam. When Dean said he was going to live, I wanted to scream.
Because what’s the fucking point? Why let a twisted, evil man who drove his own son to suicide keep breathing another day? ”
Tears slipped from my eyes, and I let them fall. I fought the urge to hide it, to wipe it away. “Am I a horrible person for thinking that, Cam?” My voice came out soft and shaky, and I didn’t have it in me to stop it anymore. “Am I a monster? For wishing that for my own father?”
He shook his head and said softly, “No, Sloane. You’re someone who’s been hurt deeply, and you’re carrying the kind of pain most people will never understand.
What you feel in the aftermath of that isn’t a measure of your worth; it’s a reflection of the wounds you’ve survived.
You’re allowed to be angry. What matters is what you do with that pain, not that you have it. ”
I looked at him and felt warmth spread through me.
Yes, I was allowed to be angry. I was allowed to feel this pain.
But what I chose to do with it—that was what would set me free.
I would no longer let it rule my life. I would fight to silence their voices in my head.
I no longer wanted them in my life. I wanted to step forward, to leave behind every shadow that had shaped my past, until there was nothing left of them that could touch me.
I nodded to Cameron, feeling resolve settle over me like armor. “I’m going to have closure, Cam. I want to tell them everything I felt, every pain they caused, and then they’ll be out of my life. And most importantly, out of Harper’s. I will never let them inflict the same pain on her.”
His smile was bright, warm, and genuine. “Go get that closure, Sloane,” he said. “I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
“Yes.” I nodded to myself and held my breath. “I’m going in.”
To my surprise, my steps were firm, without a trace of hesitation. I marched to the door and yanked it open.
Inside, my father lay in bed, an oxygen mask covering his mouth and nose, his chest rising and falling slowly.
Tubes and monitors surrounded him, beeping softly in the quiet room.
His eyes were wide and locked on me the moment I entered.
My mother sat in a chair beside him, but the second she saw me, she shot to her feet.
“It’s about time you showed up!” she practically screamed. “I texted you last night, and you didn’t even have the decency to come see your own father. He was in an accident, for God’s sake. Where were you?”
“I’m around,” I answered calmly. “I wasn’t far.”
“Then why didn’t you come? I was waiting alone the whole night and…”
“Because I didn’t want to come.” I cut her off. “I didn’t want to see you and him.”
My mother looked taken aback at my words. I had never, ever spoken to them like this before.
“Sloane,” my mother said. “Your father drove here to find you. He missed you. We missed you. You wouldn’t take our calls, and he said that if he went to your house, you wouldn’t open the door. Then we heard you and Cameron were divorced. That’s why he came here.”
“Even if he had managed to get here, I still wouldn’t have wanted to see him. The reason I’m here now is because I have something to say.” I kept my gaze locked on my father as I slowly walked toward his bed.
“Look at you now, Father. I was exactly like this when I had the accident. Lying helpless on a hospital bed, but you’re luckier than I, because at least you have Mother here with you. I was all alone.”
He was staring back at me, unable to speak—whether because of the mask or because he was too weak, I didn’t care.
“It’s good that you can’t talk,” I said softly. “Because I don’t think I have the energy to argue with you. But I need to say this once and for all. After this, I want us never to see each other again.”
I paused for a moment, wanting to see his reaction. He remained still. Very still. It was as if he already knew this would be the moment I finally let out all my anger toward him.
“I’m sure you knew how much you hurt Xander and me,” I said, my gaze locked on his.
“Of course, you knew. You stubbornly believed it was for the best—your version of the best. You always said you wanted us to be exactly what you envisioned, and you couldn’t accept anything less.
That’s why you were hard on us, and it was always for our own good. ” I paused, keeping my voice level.
“Was it working, Father? You have a son who took his own life because he couldn’t take it anymore, and a daughter so cold, so guarded, so messed up in the head she needed therapy and will probably need it for the rest of her life.”
Everybody stayed quiet as they listened. My father lay there, stiff and weak, only able to stare at me. I glanced at my mother. Her eyes were wide, and she gaped at me in shock. I felt Cameron’s presence behind me, the only thing keeping me grounded and giving me the courage to push through.
I took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I’ve been distancing myself from you both for the past year and a half. Do you want to know why?” I fixed my gaze on my mother.