Chapter 21

Alexander's POV

Seeing Lauren crumpled on the cold floor, pale and trembling, hit me harder than I could have imagined. My knees buckled as I dropped down beside her, my hands finding their way into her soft hair, cradling her head as if that alone could hold her together.

Her chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven gasps, her body so fragile it felt like she might shatter beneath my touch.

“Lauren,” I murmured, my voice rough and desperate. I leaned closer, my breath brushing against her ear. “I’ve got you. Just breathe. You’re safe now.”

She didn’t respond, her wide, unfocused eyes locked on the ground, her fingers trembling as they gripped the edge of her sweater like it was the only thing tethering her to reality.

“You need to come back to me,” I said, my words slipping past my throat before I could think. “I’m right here. I have you.”

Her head jerked up, our faces suddenly inches apart. Her eyes, once so full of life, now held exhaustion, sadness, and—God help me—resolve.

“Alexander,” she began, her voice steady but aching. “I… don’t.”

“Don’t what?” I leaned in closer, the words spilling from me like a flood I couldn’t stop. “Don’t care about you? Don’t want to fix this? Lauren, please. Come back with me. Come home to me. I can’t do this without you. Look at you. Let me help.”

The plea ripped from somewhere deep inside me, bypassing any rational filter. It wasn’t calculated or smooth—it was raw and exposed, stripped bare of anything but truth.

Her breath hitched, a faint crack in her armor, but she didn’t crumble. Instead, she pulled back, slow and deliberate, her movements weighted with finality.

“You…have the wrong girl,” she said softly, her voice carrying a quiet strength that cut me to the bone. “Made your mistakes.”

Her words landed like a punch, but I refused to retreat. How long was she going to keep up this act? “I made mistakes,” I admitted, my voice shaking. “But this—us—it’s not over. It can’t be.”

Her lips parted, the faintest flicker of fire lighting her eyes. “Mistakes? Is that what you call—”

The sound of the heavy hospital door creaking open interrupted her, and I turned sharply. Liam stood in the doorway, his disheveled blonde hair falling into his eyes, his expression tense as he took in the scene.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice clipped as he strode toward us, his long strides bringing him too close too fast.

“She’s fine,” I snapped, the words coming out harsher than I intended.

But Lauren wasn’t looking at me anymore. Her gaze shifted to Liam, softening in a way that made my stomach twist.

“Nothing,” she said quickly, her voice quiet but firm. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” Liam said, crouching down beside her, his hand brushing her arm as he helped her to her feet. The casual intimacy of the gesture set my blood on fire.

“Did someone lock you in here?” he asked, his tone sharp as his eyes flicked over her.

“Liam—” she started, but he silenced her with a pointed look, his jaw tightening.

“I’ll handle it,” he said, slipping an arm around her waist as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “You need to rest.”

I stood, my fists clenched at my sides, every muscle in my body screaming to do something—anything—but watch. Yet I stayed rooted to the spot as he scooped her into his arms like she weighed nothing.

The way she relaxed against him, her head resting lightly on his shoulder, was unbearable. It wasn’t just that he was touching her—it was that she let him.

“Really, I’m fine,” Lauren protested weakly, though her voice carried no conviction.

“Someone has to take care of you,” Liam replied, his tone light but his grip steady. “You’re terrible at it.”

I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt, fighting the urge to rip her from his arms and remind her who she used to belong to—who she still belonged to, even if she refused to admit it.

“I should go,” I said abruptly, the bitterness in my voice scraping against the walls.

Lauren glanced back at me over Liam’s shoulder, her face unreadable. “Thank you, Alexander. Goodbye.”

Her words, calm and final, felt like a door slamming shut in my face. Without waiting for a response, she let Liam carry her down the hall, his quiet voice murmuring reassurances I couldn’t make out.

The sound of their footsteps faded, leaving me alone in the empty corridor.

By the time I stumbled into the night, the cool air slapped against my skin, sharp and biting, but it did nothing to extinguish the wildfire inside me. The hum of the city—so steady, so indifferent—mocked the chaos that clawed at my chest, each beat of my heart a thunderous drum.

I paced like a caged animal, raking a hand through my hair, my breath uneven. The scene played on an endless loop in my mind, each replay sharpening the knife lodged in my ribs. Her voice. Her resolve. Liam’s hands on her.

I couldn’t take it.

The roar inside me spilled out as I swung my fist into the nearest streetlight. The impact sent a jolt up my arm, but I didn’t care. The metal groaned under the force, the post bending at an unnatural angle, the bulb flickering wildly before settling into a weak, sputtering glow.

Pain radiated from my knuckles, the skin raw and stinging, but it wasn’t enough. It didn’t touch the inferno consuming me. I stood there, chest heaving, staring at the crooked light like it had answers.

This wasn’t over. It couldn’t be.

Lauren could deny me all she wanted, but I wasn’t blind. There was more to her resistance than she was letting on, and I was done playing by her rules.

If she wouldn’t tell me the truth, I’d find it myself. A simple DNA test would expose the lie she was clinging to, and then she’d have no choice but to face the reality she was running from. She wasn’t Ava, she was my wife. My Lauren.

She could pretend all she wanted, but I knew who she was. And I wasn’t about to let her slip through my fingers again.

Lauren's POV

The sound of the door clicking shut was like a weight lifting off my chest. My breath came out shaky as I sank deeper into Liam’s hold, his arms steadying me. The tension in my shoulders began to ease, though the tightness in my chest remained.

“What happened?” Liam’s voice pulled me back to the present, his tone soft but edged with concern.

I shook my head, still trying to piece it together. “I... I don’t know. I went after Owen, and then suddenly I was locked in that... room.”

Liam’s brow furrowed, his sharp eyes searching mine. He didn’t push, though. He didn’t need to. He already knew what that room did to me—how it unraveled me.

When I pulled back, pressing a hand against his hold, he let me go without hesitation, his presence still steady and grounding.

“He still loves you, you know,” Liam said after a long moment, his voice careful, measured.

A bitter laugh escaped me before I could stop it. I started walking down the hall, desperate for air, for space. “His ‘love’ isn’t enough.”

“Never said it was,” he shot back, his tone colder now. “But it’s worth asking how you feel.”

I stopped, turning to look at him. What was he getting at?

“It doesn’t matter how I feel,” I said finally, my voice soft but firm. “I don’t have time for this. We need to find Owen.”

I didn’t wait for a response, climbing the stairs two at a time, the echoes of the evening playing over and over in my mind.

As I reached the top of the stairs and stared down the long, dimly lit hallway, doubt began to creep in. Was I protecting Abigail and Owen, keeping them safe from a world that could destroy them—or was I just running away?

I lingered on the edges of this life, close enough to see it but always just out of reach. A shadow in the background, pretending I could exist in both worlds when, deep down, I knew I couldn’t.

What was I even doing here?

And then there was the other question, the one I couldn’t push away no matter how hard I tried.

Who had trapped me in that room?