Agatha POV:The hospital air felt heavy, thick with the smell of antiseptic and a quiet kind of panic. Every beep of a machine, every muffled cry from somewhere down the hall, every hurried whisper from the nurses, made the fear inside me grow stronger.Dad was still unconscious. The only sign he was alive was the steady rhythm of the ventilator. His face, usually so full of life, looked pale and weak. The worry lines were etched deep into his skin.I had been praying that he’d wake up. I clung to the hope that his strong will, his fighting spirit, would pull him through. But the doctor’s words, even though he tried to be gentle, kept echoing in my mind: "Critical condition." It was a constant reminder that Dad was hanging on by a thread.I was exhausted. My eyelids feel heavy, my head dizzy. I needed coffee, something to keep me going, to keep the darkness away.As I walked down the long hallway towards the cafeteria, I saw him. Charles.He was arguing with the receptionist, hi
Charles POV:I watched Agatha across the hospital cafeteria, my chest tightening at the sight of her slumped figure, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. It should have been a moment of victory, a confirmation that my plan to break Nathan and Agatha was working. But a strange ache pulsed in my chest, a feeling that had nothing to do with winning and everything to do with… her pain.Damn it, Agatha. Why do you have to make this so complicated?I knew what had happened. Overheard Nathan’s assistant gushing on the phone about the birth of his child.“The Richards family is officially cursed!” she'd whispered, barely able to contain her glee. “The poor thing was born with some… problems. It’s really sad, but the grandparents are already talking about disowning her. You know how they are about the Richards’ bloodline.”She'd cleared her throat then, her voice back to its usual professional tone, completely oblivious to my presence.It was a cruel twist of fate, a tragedy for a child
Nathan POV:I burst through the door of Camille’s hospital room, sweat dripping down my face, my chest heaving. The sterile smell of the place, usually a calming scent, only fueled the rage that was burning inside me.“Nathan? What… what are you doing here?” Camille’s voice was a mix of surprise and… was that disgust?“What the hell do you think I’m doing here?” I snarled, the words exploding out of me. “Our daughter was just born, and you… you just walk out, leaving me with nothing but a stupid note?”I was a mess. My hair was a mess, my clothes were wrinkled, and my face probably looked like I’d been through hell. But I didn’t care. I was furious. Camille had left me, announced to the world she was raising our kid alone, and I’d almost missed the birth of my own daughter because of it.“You look awful, Nathan,” Camille said, her voice flat, cold. She looked me up and down, her lip curling in a sneer.“Thanks,” I muttered, the anger turning inward, leaving a bitter taste in my m
Charles POV:The sight of Nathan Richards slumped on the hospital floor, his shoulders shaking, his face buried in his hands, should have filled me with satisfaction. This was what I’d been working towards, wasn’t it? To break him, to strip him of everything – his company, his family, his pride. To expose him as the weak, selfish fool he truly was.But as I stood there, watching him crumble, a strange, unexpected emotion flickered within me. It wasn’t pity, not exactly. It was more like… a hollow ache, a recognition of a shared humanity I’d long forgotten.The hallway was empty, the usual bustle of nurses and visitors absent in this quiet corner, the only sound Nathan's ragged breaths and the faint hum of the vending machine down the hall.I walked towards him, my footsteps echoing on the floor. He didn't look up, his body curled in on itself, a picture of defeat. I remembered a different Nathan, the arrogant, cocky kid who'd ruled the hallways of our prep school, the charismatic
Agatha POV:The smell of stale coffee and antiseptic hung in the air, a strange mix of comfort and despair. I sat across from Charles, the plastic table a flimsy barrier between us, a bouquet of lilies wilting beside my untouched grilled cheese sandwich. He’d insisted on bringing me here, to this dingy little café across the street from the hospital, after catching me crying in the cafeteria.The news of Camille's baby, of Nathan’s daughter being born with a heart defect, had hit me harder than I expected. It wasn't jealousy, not exactly. It was more like… a painful echo of my own losses, a reminder of the fragility of life, of the dreams that could be shattered in an instant.And then there was the guilt, a gnawing ache in my chest, the constant reminder that I was somehow responsible for this whole mess, for the tangled web of pain and betrayal that had ensnared us all."Agatha, you barely touched your food," Charles said, his voice laced with concern, his blue eyes searching mi
Agatha POV:My head throbbed, a dull, insistent ache that pulsed in time with the rhythmic beeping of a machine I couldn't quite place. I blinked, my eyes fluttering open, the harsh fluorescent lights of… a hospital room? … stinging my vision. Disoriented, I tried to sit up, a wave of dizziness washing over me, forcing me back against the starched white pillows.“Whoa, easy there.” A gentle hand pressed against my shoulder. “Just take it easy, Ms. De Rossi. You’re safe now.”A doctor, a young woman with kind eyes and a warm smile, stood beside my bed, a stethoscope dangling from her neck.“What… what happened?” I asked, my voice a raspy whisper, my throat dry and scratchy. “Where… where am I?”“You’re in the hospital, Ms. De Rossi,” she explained patiently. “You fainted in the cafeteria. Don’t worry, it’s nothing serious. Just exhaustion and… well, it seems you haven’t been taking very good care of yourself lately.”Fainted? The cafeteria… Nathan. Camille's baby…The memories of
I stood in shock, staring down at the papers scattered across the floor. Divorce papers, with Nathan's signature already scribbled on the line. He couldn't even look me in the eye as he uttered those heartless words. "You should start packing. Only take what you came with." The pounding of my heart drowned out all other sounds. This couldn't be real, it had to be some twisted joke. I searched Nathan's face pleadingly, hoping to find even a hint of remorse or regret. But his eyes remained cold and distant. "Nathan, please...we can talk about this. What happened to make you want this so suddenly?" My voice cracked with emotion. Three years of marriage, three years of giving everything to this man, and his lavish lifestyle, meant nothing to him now. He sighed in annoyance. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be, Agatha. It's over. I've already filed the paperwork. Now just pack your things and go." White-hot anger swirled within me now, battling with the remnants of grief and
As the taxi pulled away from the mansion, I let the tears come that I'd held back for so long. All the stress and heartbreak of the past hours came pouring out of me in gut-wrenching sobs. I was finally free to mourn the loss of the life and identity I'd clung to for three years. My mind drifted back to happier times when Nathan and I were carefree college students. I saw him on the rugby pitch, his powerful form weaving effortlessly between opponents. Even then he had a swaggering charisma that drew people to him. Drawn to his confidence and charm, I'd eagerly accepted when he asked me out after a game. It was the first real act of rebellion against my father's expectations. Aldo De Rossi wanted me safely tucked away, continuing my studies without distraction. But Nathan made me feel alive and passionate in a way I never had before. For a while I let myself get swept up in the fantasy, pretending we could live a normal life together after graduation. Of course, it all came crash