---- Chapter 17 Ava looked at Chloe, at the raw pain and confusion in her eyes. She felt a flicker of sympathy, but it was quickly overshadowed by a weary resolve. "Chloe," Ava said calmly, "are you sure you want to hear this? The truth can be... difficult." "| need to know," Chloe insisted, her voice cracking. "Ethan won't tell me anything. He's acting like a crazy person. And you ... you married his brother." Ava met her gaze. "Alright. If you're sure." She took a deep breath. "Yes, Chloe. Ethan and | were together. For five years. We were engaged. Our wedding was supposed to be three weeks after your accident." Chloe gasped, her hand flying to her mouth Ava continued, her voice flat, recounting the story. Ethan's decision to postpone the wedding. The charade. His lies about her being Liam's girlfriend. His deliberate choice not to pursue Chloe's treatment. The overheard conversation. The pain. The humiliation. She spoke without embellishment, without excessive emotion. Her voice was steady, almost detached, as if she were recounting a story that had happened to someone else. The trauma was still there, but it had been processed, transformed. It was a scar, not an an open wound. As Ava spoke, Chloe's face went through a kaleidoscope of ---- emotions. Disbelief. Horror. Dawning understanding. Then, the memories, already loosened by the treatments in Boston, came flooding back. Not just of the recent past, of Ethan's manipulations, but of her original relationship with him. Years ago. Their passionate, tumultuous romance. Their bitter breakup, fueled by misunderstandings and youthful pride. She remembered sailing that day. The storm. The fear. Waking up with no memory, Ethan by her side, telling her they were still in love. The full weight of his deception, of her unwitting role in Ava's suffering, crashed down on her. She sank onto the ottoman, tears streaming down her face. "Oh my God," she whispered, her voice choked with sobs. "He ... he used me. He used my amnesia." She looked at Ava, her eyes filled with a mixture of shame and horror. "And you... you had to pretend... to call me 'sis'... while he was... Oh, Ava, | am so, so sorry." She remembered now. Ethan wasn't the idyllic first love her amnesiac mind had conjured. He had been charming, yes, but also possessive, manipulative even then. They had broken up for a reason. Fate, in a cruel, ironic twist, had thrown her back into his orbit, vulnerable and unsuspecting. And he had seized the opportunity, not for love, but for his own selfish desires.