Chapter 54
Allen
I woke up to blinding light.
The sterile scent of disinfectant, the beeping machines, and the quiet hum of voices around me all told me exactly where I was-a hospital. I blinked slowly, my eyelids heavy, dry. My mouth was parched. Everything ached. But the most painful sensation wasn't in my body. It was in my chest. An ache that ran deeper than the wound in my stomach.
"He's awake," I heard someone whisper. My mother's voice. Soft, breathy, trembling.
"Allen, honey?" My father's hand gripped mine. I turned my head, slowly. There they were, eyes full of tears. It wasn't relief in their gaze. It was sorrow. Shame. Fear.
And then it hit me. Everything. The knock on Corinne's door. Her screams. The blood. The gun. The look on her face. The children.
"No," I croaked, squeezing my eyes shut. "No, no, no. What did I do? What did I-"
"Shh," my mother said, brushing my hair back. Her hands were cold. Or maybe mine were just burning with guilt.
"Corinne," I whispered. "Is she okay? The kids..."
"She's alive," Dad said gently. "Stitched up. Your bullet hit her hand when she tried to take the gun from you. The security team got there in time. She's safe. So are the kids."
I let out a choked sob, turning my head toward the wall. I wanted to crawl into myself and never return. I had become the monster I promised her I'd never be.
"She didn't press charges," Mom said after a while.
I turned slowly back to them. "What?"
"She didn't press charges," she repeated. "She had the right to. And believe me, we wouldn't have stopped her. But she made a decision. With one condition."
Dad cleared his throat. "You're not allowed near her or the kids until a judge determines you're mentally stable. And you have to go into reformation treatment. Psychiatric help."
"I..." I didn't know what to say. Shame swallowed me whole. I didn't deserve her mercy. But somehow, Corinne still had a piece of her heart left for compassion.
"Why would she...? After what I did?"
"Because she's stronger than we are," my mother whispered. "Stronger than we ever deserved."
I wiped my face with my trembling hands. Tears fell, fast and ugly. My body shuddered from them. "I hurt her. I could've-God, I could've killed her. I wanted to. In that moment..."
"You were drunk. Broken. But that doesn't excuse it," Dad said, firm. "This is your wake-up call. You're at rock bottom, Allen. Now it's up to you whether you stay here or not."
I lay still, letting those words crash over me. I thought of Corinne's eyes-once filled with love, then pain, now terror. I thought of my children. My beautiful little Astrid and Kyle. I could still see their faces that night. The confusion. The fear.
"I have to let them go," I whispered. "I have to be better. Not for her. Not to get her back. But for them. For the kids."
My mother broke into a sob, pressing her face into my shoulder. Dad stood still, watching me with guarded pride.
"Call the lawyers," I said after a moment. "I'll sign over temporary custody to you both. 50%. Until a judge says I'm okay. I need to fix myself. I need to be someone my kids aren't afraid of."
"We already started the process," Dad replied quietly. "The judge will grant the temporary custody in a few days."
I nodded slowly. Then I looked at my mother. "Get me admitted. Find the best reformation institution you can. I want inpatient treatment. Long-term. However long it takes."
She stared at me for a moment, then nodded. "Okay. We will."
We sat in silence for a while, the beeping of the monitors the only sound in the room. The painkillers were working but the ache was still there. Not in my body. In my soul.
"She'll never forgive me," I said softly. "I wouldn't either."
"Maybe not. But she wants you to live. That says something," my dad said. "She didn't choose revenge. She chose justice."
I thought about what kind of man I had become. How I let myself fall apart after my affair. After I destroyed our marriage. After Natasha. After my own damn self-pity swallowed me whole.
"She's with him isn't she?" I asked, though I already knew.
My mother hesitated. "Yes. Jasper."
A bitter chuckle escaped me. "Her best friend's brother. Of course."
"He was the one who defended her in the hospital when we..." she trailed off.
"When you what?"
Dad sighed. "We tried to stop her from pressing charges. We pleaded."
My jaw clenched. "You shouldn't have done that. She owed me nothing."
"We know. And we said some things..." Mom said, guilt lining her face. "Things we regret."
"You tried to blame her?" I asked, not angry-just disappointed.
"We were scared. We thought if you went to prison... if the press got wind of it..."
"You thought it would ruin the family name," I said bluntly.
My father looked away. "We were wrong."
"Yeah," I said. "You were."
They both stood, slowly.
"We'll begin the arrangements for the institution," Dad said. "It's your choice. But it sounds like you've made it."
"I have."
My mother walked over and kissed my forehead gently. I didn't deserve even that. But I let her. Because for the first time in years, I wanted to get better.
As they left the room, I turned my head to the window. The sky outside was turning a soft, pinkish blue. Morning light.
I had made every mistake a man could make. Betrayed the love of my life. Damaged my children. Hurt a woman who had once trusted me with everything. But I was still alive.
Corinne didn't owe me mercy. But she gave it anyway. Not for me. But for the children. And I was going to make sure that someday, when they were older, they would look at me and not see a monster.
They would see a man who fell, but chose to rise.
And I would never, ever give them a reason to be afraid again.