Chapter 21 I have Changed
“Mr. Sinclair?”
Mrs. Maisel knocked repeatedly on the door of what used to be Mia’s room in the Sinclair house.
There was no response.
She knocked again, panic creeping into her voice. “Please open the door,” she pleaded. “Ever since you came back from the courthouse, you haven’t opened the door. It’s been two days. Please, come out.”
No response.
Neil arrived moments later. After hearing what had happened at the courthouse, his face darkened with worry.
“I know their marriage was bad,” he said slowly, “but ever since Mia left… he’s completely lost his mind.”
Mrs. Maisel nodded anxiously. “He hasn’t opened the door for two days.”
Neil’s heart sank.
“This isn’t good,” he muttered. “He wouldn’t… do something to himself, would he?”
Mrs. Maisel gasped, fear flooding her face.
Neil’s eyes darted around the room—until they landed on a heavy metal statue resting against the wall.
He grabbed it.
“Step back,” he ordered.
He struck the doorknob again and again, his breaths harsh and frantic. The door resisted—then finally, the lock snapped and fell apart.
Neil threw the door open and rushed inside.
“James!”
No answer.
He rushed inside—and froze.
James lay unconscious on the floor. His shirt was gone—he was only wearing the same suit pants he had worn two days ago. His skin looked pale, lifeless.
Neil knelt beside him quickly.
There was no smell of alcohol.
Which meant—he hadn’t passed out drunk.
Neil rushed to James’s side at once.
“James—James, wake up!” He shook his shoulder hard.
There was no response.
“Shit,” Neil cursed under his breath. He looked up sharply at Mrs. Maisel. “Call a doctor. Now. I’ll get him onto the bed.”
“Yes—yes, right away!” Mrs. Maisel said, panic flooding her face as she rushed out of the room.
An hour later, a doctor stood beside the bed. He removed the stethoscope from James’s chest and let out a heavy sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
“Mr. Sinclair suffered a cardiac arrest,” the doctor said gravely. “If help had arrived even a little later… he might not have survived.”
Mrs. Maisel gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, eyes wide with horror.
Neil swore sharply, his heart pounding violently at the thought. He raked a hand through his hair, pacing once before forcing himself to stop.
Five hours later, James finally stirred. His eyes fluttered open, unfocused and dull.
Neil, who had been sitting beside the bed the entire time, shot to his feet the moment he saw James’s eyelids flutter open.
“You’re awake,” Neil said hoarsely, bending down and gripping his shoulder. “You’ve been unconscious for nearly half a day.”
James only blinked, his gaze unfocused.
“Do you even realize you had a cardiac arrest?” Neil snapped, fear turning into anger. “You could’ve died, you idiot! And you didn’t even call anyone when it happened!”
Still no response.
Slowly, he closed his eyes and turned his face away.
Neil’s anger faded into worry. “What the hell is happening to you?” he demanded. “Talk to me. You can’t just shut down like this.”
James remained motionless.
His face was pale, empty—like there was nothing left inside him.
Neil reached out and shook his shoulder harder. “James, get back to your senses. You can’t live like this—just lying here waiting to die!”
Still nothing.
With a frustrated breath, Neil straightened and pulled out his phone, stepping out of the room. He hesitated for a moment—then scrolled and tapped a number he hadn’t called in a long time.
***
Mia was asleep when her phone rang.
She shifted slightly, frowning.
Beside her, Alexander lay propped against the headboard, glasses perched low on his nose as he read. He smiled faintly at the sight of her stirring and closed the book.
Mia turned toward him instinctively, her hand sliding across his thighs as she lifted her head and rested it in his lap. Alexander’s hand immediately threaded into her hair, his thumb brushing gently across her cheek, cradling her face with slow, affectionate strokes—as if soothing a restless cat.
Her phone rang again.
Annoyed, Mia groaned softly and reached for the bedside table, fumbling until her fingers closed around the device. She squinted at the screen.
Neil.
Her brows furrowed.
She sat up at once.
Alexander noticed the change in her expression. He shifted, pulling her gently back between his legs, his arm wrapping securely around her waist. He leaned closer, resting his chin against her shoulder, listening quietly.
Mia answered the call.
“Hello?”
On the other end, Neil sounded tense.
“Mia… how are you?” he asked. “It’s been a long time.”
She kept her voice neutral. “I’m fine. Is there something you need?”
Neil rubbed his forehead, exhaling slowly before speaking again. “I heard you got married. Congratulations.” A pause. “Is it true? Did you really marry Alexander Graves?”
Mia’s fingers tightened slightly around the phone.
Alexander’s grip around her tightened.
“Yes. I’m married to Alexander. I already told James about my marriage. I hope it’s clear now that I have no interest in going back.” She paused, then added coldly, “Please make sure he doesn’t try to find me again.”
Neil’s face went pale.
Marrying Alexander Graves meant something very clear—this wasn’t a situation James could fight, manipulate, or overpower. If Mia had married someone weaker, someone James could rival, there might have been hope.
But Alexander Graves?
James never stood a chance.
That wasn’t just marriage. That was a sealed door.
Alexander had everything James had… and more. A hundred times more.
A long silence followed before Neil spoke again, his voice cautious now.
“Mia… I need to ask you for a favor.”
She frowned slightly.
“Can you… not provoke James anymore?” he said quietly. “Just—treat him a little more kindly.”
Mia’s fingers tightened unconsciously around Alexander’s arm. Her brows knitted together, irritation flashing through her eyes. Before she could respond, Neil continued, his voice urgent.
“I know your marriage wasn’t good. But James… his life hasn’t been easy either. He doesn’t know how to express himself. He doesn’t even understand his own emotions.”
Mia listened, stiff and silent.
“Before he married you,” Neil went on, “his life was already a mess. You know how his mother is—money, power, expansion. That’s all she ever cared about.
From the time he was a child, she pushed him to be the perfect heir.
She beat him for mistakes. Controlled every step of his life.
Forced him to work nonstop, to earn, to prove himself. ”
Mia’s eyes widened slightly.
She had always known Mrs. Sinclair was strict. Cold. Money-minded.
But she had never imagined that level of cruelty.
Neil exhaled shakily. “You grew up in a family that showed warmth. Care. Love. James didn’t. The only ‘love’ he ever knew was control and punishment. So he didn’t understand what love in a marriage was supposed to look like.”
Mia’s grip on Alexander tightened further.
Neil glanced toward the room behind him, where James lay motionless on the bed.
“I know he wasn’t a good husband,” Neil said quietly. “But he’s really changed. He’s learned his lesson. He regrets everything—letting you go, hurting you, ignoring you.”
Then, almost pleading, Neil added, “Can you—can you give him one more chance? He’ll take care of you this time. He’ll be a good husband.”
The room felt suddenly heavy.
She straightened fully, pulling away just enough to sit upright. Her expression hardened, anger flashing clearly across her face.
“I understand he didn’t have a good life,” she said coldly, “but does that mean I deserved what I went through for five years?”
Her voice grew sharper, edged with pain. “Does his suffering give him the right to neglect me? Humiliate me? Abandon me when I was scared, injured, crying? Even a dog you raise under the same roof would get more care in five years than I did.”
She drew in a sharp breath.
“I was his wife, Neil. Not his therapist. If he wasn’t ready for marriage, he shouldn’t have agreed to marry me instead of leaving me to rot like some decoration in his house.”
Neil hesitated on the other end of the call before speaking again, his voice low and troubled.
“I know it’s unfair to ask you this,” he said quietly. “But James… he’s really not well. Can you… can you just come and see him once? Just once.”
Mia closed her eyes.
The moment his words landed, memories she had tried so hard to bury surged back—five long years, each one heavy, colorless, and exhausting.
No matter how hard she searched, there wasn’t a single memory she could hold onto and say this made it worth it.
Everything was still too fresh, too raw, as if she had only left yesterday.
Tears welled up and slid down her cheeks as she finally spoke.
“He’s unwell now,” she said softly, her voice trembling. “But what if he gets unwell again? Will I be called every time? Will I have to keep going back to him over and over?”
She inhaled shakily. “I’m married now, Neil. I can’t be there for another man. I have a husband.”
Behind her, Alexander tightened his arms around her waist and pulled her back against his chest. He lowered his face to her neck, pressing a gentle kiss there. His expression was calm, but his body was rigid—every muscle taut as he listened to every word.
Neil hesitated, clearly troubled.
“I understand why you don’t want to come,” he said. “But I promise—this will be the last time. Just… for the sake of the five years you lived with him. He neglected you, yes, but he never hurt you. Please. Just come and see him once.”
Mia’s heart pounded painfully in her chest.
After a long silence, she whispered, “I’ll… think about it.”
Then she ended the call.
The moment the phone left her hand, she turned and buried her face against Alexander’s neck. Her shoulders shook as she cried quietly, exhaustion and old wounds crashing over her all at once.
After a while, she lifted her head and looked at him.