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If she had known, would things have been different? Would she have waited instead of trying to bury every trace of him in her heart?
And now that he was back… was this real? Or was he simply love-bombing her, trying to lure her in again just to break her one more time?
Her fingers trembled as they curled around the doorknob, her pulse hammering in her ears.
She had spent five years thinking she knew the truth.
But now, she wasn’t so sure anymore.
Chapter 12 Together
Taking a deep breath, Ivy tried to steady herself. She liked him—a lot—but Christian Evans wasn’t someone she could handle. He was wild, unpredictable. And the thought that she was nothing more than entertainment to him haunted her. She had spent years trying to forget him. She wasn’t going to let herself be his plaything again.
With that thought, she stepped into the room.
Christian lay in the hospital bed, propped up slightly by pillows, his face pale against the stark white sheets. Bruises bloomed along his cheekbone, and a deep cut on his forehead was covered by fresh bandages. Scrapes ran along his arms, while an IV line trailed from his hand, disappearing into the machine beside him. The television blared news about stock markets, but he wasn’t really watching—just staring blankly, lost in thought.
The moment she entered, his eyes found her. Despite everything—the pain, the exhaustion—his expression lit up, a bright smile spreading across his face, as if just seeing her could chase away all the darkness in his world.
"Ivy? You came?"
She nodded, walking in. Christian immediately fumbled for the remote, switching off the television as she approached his bed—but she kept her distance.
"Sawyer told me about the accident," she said, her voice quieter than usual. "I’m sorry about what I said yesterday. It’s my fault you got hurt."
Christian’s smile faltered slightly. "It’s not your fault," he murmured, searching her face.
"It is." Her throat tightened. "I shouldn’t have said those things…" She swallowed hard, forcing herself to meet his gaze. "I’m sorry."
For a moment, there was only silence. Then, Christian exhaled softly, his gaze softening in a way that made her insides twist. "Ivy," he murmured, his voice achingly gentle, "I love you."
Her chest tightened. A sharp, painful squeeze wrapped around her heart.
"Christian… you don’t love me," she said, her voice steady but heavy, almost as if she were convincing herself more than him. "I’m just a good memory in this city for you. That’s all."
Christian stiffened.
"Ivy," he repeated, shaking his head. "It’s not a memory. You aren’t a memory. I have always loved you. That hasn’t changed, and it never will."
"Stop!" she hissed, eyes squeezing shut, her breathing turning ragged. "Stop saying that, Christian. You don’t love me. I know that. And soon enough, you’ll realize it too."
The room turned unbearably tense. The warmth in Christian’s expression faded, his gaze darkening into something far more intense.
His voice, when he spoke next, was dangerously low. "These are my feelings, Ivy. I love you, and there’s nothing in this fucking world that will change that. You don’t get to decide that it’s my delusion."
Ivy’s fingers curled into fists, her nails pressing into her palms. A long silence stretched between them before she exhaled slowly, her gaze unreadable.
"Alright, then," she said. "Let’s be together."
Christian stilled.
His heart slammed violently against his ribs, his grip tightening on the bedsheet. The words rang in his head like an unanswered prayer.
It was as if those words had been spoken to him by God. His God.
"Let’s be together," she repeated, her voice chillingly calm. "I’ll be with you, and when you get bored of me, you can tell me. I’ll walk away."
Christian’s face changed in an instant. Fury ignited within him, burning through his veins like wildfire. The happiness that had lit up his face moments ago vanished, replaced by sheer rage.