---- Chapter 17 17 Ethan stared at Chloe. Her question echoed in the sterile hospital corridor. Fallen in love with Ava? He thought of Ava's quiet strength. Her gentle kindness. The intelligence in her eyes. The way she'd loved him, patiently, steadfastly, despite his cruelty. He thought of the "Breaking Point Ledger." Her pain, so meticulously documented. He thought of their lost baby. A life extinguished because of his choices. His heart ached with a regret so profound it felt like a physical wound. Was this love? This agonizing realization of what he'd had, and what he'd thrown away? This desperate, hopeless longing to go back, to undo, to cherish? Yes. God help him, yes. It was. His silence was answer enough for Chloe. Her face contorted with rage. "You have! You've fallen for her! After everything I've done for you! After everything we've been through!" ---- She started screaming. Incoherent accusations. Vile names for Ava. For him. Nurses rushed over. A security guard appeared. The live stream was still going, capturing every ugly moment. Ethan ignored the chaos. He looked directly at Chloe, his voice clear and steady, cutting through her tirade. "| love Ava, Chloe. And you will not slander her name. You will not use her, or me, for your pathetic games anymore." Chloe lunged at him, nails outstretched. "You bastard! I'll kill you! I'll kill her!" He caught her wrists. Easily. She was all bluster. No real strength. "It's over, Chloe." He pushed her away, not roughly, but with a finality that brooked no argument. Chloe stumbled back, her face a mask of disbelief and fury. "You'll regret this, Ethan Cole! You'll both regret this!" She spat the words at him. Then, she turned and fled, the security guard trailing after her. Ethan stood there, amidst the curious stares of onlookers, the beeping of medical equipment. He felt... empty. Drained. But also, strangely, at peace. He had finally spoken the truth. He loved Ava. A love born too late. A love he didn't deserve. ---- A love he would likely never get to express to her. He went back to his room, the adrenaline fading, leaving him weak and trembling. He sank onto the bed, burying his face in his hands. The regret was a living thing, tearing at him. Ava. Where was she? How could he ever find her? How could he ever make amends for the devastation he had wrought? He spent the night staring at the ceiling, the image of Ava's face, the memory of her quiet suffering, haunting his every waking moment. He knew, with a certainty that chilled him to the bone, that he had lost her. Irrevocably. Utterly. And it was no one's fault but his own.