Chapter Twenty-Eight Sayani Storm
I stepped into that hospital room bare-faced, stripped of the designer armor and masks I’d worn for so long they felt like second skin.
There was no plan today. No hidden motive or petty-ass plot to stir drama—just me, raw and exposed, standing in front of the woman whose life I’d helped turn upside down.
Xalori sat propped against white pillows, skin paler than it should be, eyes guarded and cautious as they tracked every step, I took closer to her bedside. Her hand rested protectively over the swell of her belly, an unconscious gesture that made guilt twist in my chest.
I didn’t know exactly what I came here to say.
Maybe sorry. Maybe that I’d fucked up. Maybe that for the first time, I saw clearly just how deep my loyalty to the wrong man had cut.
But before I could open my mouth, Xalori spoke first—voice tired yet steady, offering me grace I wasn’t sure I deserved.
“So, you finally ready to talk?”
I took a deep breath as I stepped further into the room, nerves scratching beneath my skin like ants on fire. Xalori didn’t say a word—just looked at me, expression blank but unreadable in that way women like us mastered after too much disappointment.
The get-well balloon in my hand suddenly felt stupid. So did the teddy bear. Like a childish peace offering dropped in the middle of a warzone.
“I, uh… I heard what happened,” I said, my voice small but steady as I held the gifts out. “Wanted to check on you. That’s all.”
She didn’t reach for them, didn’t smile and didn’t soften. She just stared.
Her hand was still on her belly. Still guarding the life inside her like it was made of glass. And I didn’t blame her. Not after the hell I’d helped stir up.
“I don’t think we got anything to talk about, Sayani,” she finally said, her voice low and sharp enough to slice me clean open.
I nodded, because I expected that. Hell, I earned it.
“I know,” I whispered. “I know you don’t wanna see me. I wouldn’t wanna see me either.”
I set the balloon and bear on the small table near the bed, clearing my throat as I forced myself to look her in the eye.
“But I gotta say what I came to say anyway. For me.”
She didn’t stop me, but her jaw locked tighter. And that was all the permission I needed.
“I was wrong,” I said, voice tight. “About a lot of things. About you. About Prime. About this whole messy-ass situation. I was so busy trying to protect a man who ain’t never really protected me, I didn’t stop to realize I was turning into the kind of woman I hated growing up.”
Her gaze flicked up at that. Just for a second.
“My mother,” I continued, swallowing the lump rising in my throat, “she hated me. Resented me. Said I stole attention. Said I made men look at her different. But really? She just wanted to be chosen. And when she wasn’t, she made sure I paid for it.”
Xalori’s face twitched, but she said nothing.
“I didn’t realize until recently that I’ve been doing the same shit,” I admitted. “Trying to hold onto a man who ain’t mine. Hating the woman who didn’t even do shit to me. You didn’t take anything from me, Xalori. And I blamed you because that was easier than accepting the truth.”
Her throat bobbed. Her eyes were glassy now, but her expression hadn’t softened.
“I’m not here to play victim,” I added quickly. “I did what I did. Said what I said. But I’m done being used. I’m done helping him hurt you. I don’t expect forgiveness, I just… needed you to hear me say it. That I’m sorry.”
A beat passed. Then another before Finally, she really looked at me and spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I appreciate the apology,” she said slowly, “but apologies don’t undo damage. You helped him come after my family, Sayani. You helped put me in this bed.”
I nodded, lips pressed tight.
“But I’m not the one you really gotta answer to,” she added, voice low and loaded. “You still married to him. Still sleeping beside the devil.”
My breathing hitched because she was right.
I blinked fast, fighting the sting behind my eyes. “I know. And I don’t even know what that means for me right now. But I promise you, I’m not his pawn anymore. If I ever have to choose again, I’m choosing the woman I wanna be. Not the one I used to be.”
The door creaked open behind me, a nurse stepping in to check Xalori’s vitals. I took that as my cue.
“I’ll leave you to rest,” I murmured, backing toward the door. “Just… thank you. For hearing me.”
As I slipped out into the hallway, I didn’t expect anything. Not forgiveness. Not grace. But for the first time in a long time, I felt like I’d finally started cleaning up my own damn mess. Even if it meant walking away from everything and everyone that I once thought I needed.
I waited in the hallway for five, maybe ten minutes after I walked out of her room.
I wasn’t ready to leave. I wasn’t ready to go back home to a man whose love felt more like a leash, or to face my reflection when I knew she wouldn’t look me in the eye.
I wasn’t ready to face Eason either—not yet. But I wasn’t hiding anymore.
Eventually, I turned and walked back inside, slow and careful like I was entering holy ground. Xalori hadn’t moved much. She was still propped up, still silent, hand still resting on her belly like it was her armor.
“I’m not looking for forgiveness,” I said quietly, my voice rough. “I’m not even expecting it. But I meant what I said. I’m done being a puppet.”
Her eyes flicked to mine. There was still ice there, but I saw the thaw.
“You were never my enemy,” she murmured after a moment. “But you made me one. And I don’t have the energy to pretend like that didn’t happen.”
“I know,” I whispered, my throat thick. “I know I hurt you. I know I made choices that don’t deserve a second chance. But you wanna know the truth?”
I stepped closer, arms crossed tight over my chest like I could hold myself together with pressure alone.
“I’m tired. Tired of performing. Of dressing up pain and calling it poise. Of pretending like this marriage, this life, this Storm name I built my identity around still fits. I’m drowning, and I’ve been drowning for a long-ass time.”
Xalori blinked, but didn’t speak. So, I kept going.
“I didn’t come here as Prime’s wife or the picture-perfect Storm daughter. I came here as Sayani. Just Sayani. A woman who got it wrong. A woman who hurt people she should’ve protected. A woman who misses her fucking brother.”
That was it. That was the part that broke me.
“I miss him, Xalori,” I said, my voice cracking.
“I miss Eason. The way we used to ride or die for each other. The way he used to check me but still made sure nobody else could. That’s my brother.
My blood. And I hate that we’re here because I couldn’t see how much I was being used.
I hate that I hurt you because I hated my own reflection.
And I hate that even now, I’m standing in front of you knowing I can’t fix this, but still hoping you’ll believe I want to. ”
Silence wrapped around us like smoke, thick and tangled. Xalori finally sighed, deep and long like something in her had settled.
“I don’t hate you,” she said quietly. “But I can’t trust you either. Not yet.”
I nodded. That was more than fair.
“But I heard you,” she added, voice steadier now. “All of it.”
And that was enough. I gave her a small nod, my throat too tight for words. As I turned to leave for real this time, I paused at the door, hand on the frame.
“If there’s ever a day you need me,” I said softly, “if there’s ever a moment, I can show you I mean what I said today… I’ll be there. No strings. No performance. Just me.”
And for the first time in months, I walked away without heels, without armor, without a plan. Just Sayani. No mask. No excuses.
And it was the most honest thing I’d ever done. I didn’t cry until I made it back to the parking deck.
Not because of what Xalori said. But because of what she didn’t say. There was no I forgive you, no teary hug, no sisterly understanding moment. And that shit hurt in a way I wasn’t ready to admit. But I respected the hell out of it.
Sometimes not being shut out is the only grace you’re gonna get. And for the first time, I didn’t need to be comforted to feel seen. Her listening was enough. Her not kicking me out was enough.
I sank into the driver’s seat of my car and just sat there, breathing and holding on. I stared at my reflection in the rearview mirror—no lashes, no liner, no gloss. Just me, P puffy-eyed, raw, and stripped bare.
And that’s when I realized, maybe this was the real beginning.
Not the beginning of getting everybody to love me again. Not the beginning of redemption wrapped up in a bow. But the beginning of showing up as myself and letting the consequences land where they may.
Prime wasn’t going to like this version of me. The one that thinks for herself. The one that no longer runs on loyalty and fear. But that’s the thing about waking up, once your eyes are open, you don’t go back to sleep for nobody.
I glanced down at the phone buzzing on my passenger seat. It was Prime and instead of answering, I let it ring. Not because I was scared of him. But because I was finally ready to stop answering to someone who deserved my silence in the first place.
As I pulled off, the sun caught the windshield just right, casting a glow over the hospital behind me.
I didn’t know what tomorrow would bring.
Hell, I barely knew what the next hour would look like.
But I knew who I was now, and that woman wasn’t Prime’s puppet. She wasn’t the villain in Eason’s life.
And she damn sure wasn’t about to be a footnote in Xalori’s downfall.
She was her own beginning.