Chapter 179

Chapter 179
Lily's POV

The silence that followed was so complete I could hear the clock in the hallway, the distant sound of staff moving through the manor, my own heartbeat loud in my ears.

Ryan's face did something complicated—grief and panic and something that looked almost like relief, as if he'd been waiting for me to say it out loud so he could finally break.

"I can't." His voice was barely audible. "Lily, I can't. I know I don't deserve you. I know I've done everything wrong. But I love you. I love William. And I'm asking—" He dropped to his knees in front of me, hands reaching for mine before stopping mid-air, like he'd forgotten he didn't have permission to touch me anymore. "I'm begging you. Don't take away the only thing that makes any of this bearable."

I stared down at him—this man who'd stood in a courtroom and helped them take my son, now on his knees asking me to stay. The wrongness of it made my chest hurt.

"You helped them," I said. The words came out flat, factual. "In that courtroom, when it mattered most, you stood up and told the judge that William was safer here than with me."

"I was trying to protect you both—"

"You were trying to control the situation." I took a step back, needing distance. "You're always trying to control everything, Ryan. The marriage, the pregnancy, where I live, who I work for. And when you can't control it, you use safety as an excuse."

"It's not an excuse." He stood, and I saw tears on his face. "Someone tried to hurt you. They could try again. How am I supposed to just let you walk out of here knowing—"

"Because I'm asking you to." My voice broke. "Because for once in this marriage, I need you to choose what I want over what you think is best."

He stared at me, and I watched something shift in his expression—the moment he understood what I was really saying. That this wasn't about the divorce papers or the custody arrangement. This was about whether he could finally, finally put me first.

"Do you still love me?"

The question came out raw, desperate. His eyes locked on mine like a drowning man looking for rescue.

I'd prepared for a lot of things in this conversation. Accusations. Arguments. Threats, maybe, though I didn't think Ryan would go there. But I hadn't prepared for that question, asked in that voice, with that look on his face.

My throat closed. I opened my mouth and nothing came out. Tears blurred my vision, hot and unwelcome.

"You know I can't look you in the eyes and say that word," I managed finally, turning my face away. "You know I can't."

Which was as good as saying yes. Saying I still love you but it doesn't matter because love hasn't been enough to save us.

I heard him make a sound—half sob, half something broken—and then he was on his knees again, this time grabbing my hands, pressing them against his face.

"Then why?" His voice was wrecked. "Why are we trying so hard and it's still not working? What am I doing wrong? Tell me and I'll fix it. I'll change it. Just tell me what to do."

I pulled my hands back, wrapped my arms around myself. "Maybe it's not about what you're doing wrong. Maybe it's about what we are together." The words hurt coming out. "Maybe we were never supposed to work, Ryan. Maybe I've been trying to be someone I'm not, and you've been trying to fit me into a life that was never meant for me."

"That's not true—"

"Isn't it?" I looked at him directly now, letting him see everything—the exhaustion, the grief, the way I'd been slowly disappearing into the role of Ryan Carter's wife. "I've spent one year trying to learn how to be comfortable with staff, with social events, with your grandmother treating me like a problem to be managed. I told myself I could do it. That love would be enough." I took a shaky breath. "But I can't live like this for the rest of my life. I can't raise William in a world where everything is about appearance and control and what the family needs."

"You think I want this?" His voice was suddenly loud, angry. Then softer: "You think I like living this way?"

I looked at him—really looked—and saw what I'd been too hurt and angry to notice before. He looked as trapped as I felt. Maybe more.

"No," I said quietly. "I don't think you do."

We stood there in the too-perfect living room, both of us crying, both of us caught in a life neither of us had chosen but couldn't figure out how to leave.

"I'm sorry," Ryan said finally. "For all of it. For the hearing, for the secrets, for every time I chose wrong. I'm sorry I couldn't be what you needed."

"I'm sorry too." My voice was steady now, even though tears were still falling. "For believing it could work. For staying when I should have left. For—" I stopped. "For still loving you when I should have learned better."

He made a sound like I'd stabbed him.

Ryan was quiet for a long time. When he finally spoke, his voice was hollow. "Okay."

Just that. One word that changed everything.

I stared at him, not quite believing what I'd heard. "Okay?"

"I'll sign the papers." He wasn't looking at me anymore, his gaze fixed somewhere past my shoulder.

Something in my chest cracked open. I'd been prepared for a fight, for negotiations, for him to use every resource at his disposal to keep me here. I hadn't been prepared for surrender.

"Ryan—"

"But I need something too." He finally looked at me, and his eyes were red-rimmed, exhausted. "Tonight. Just tonight. Let me stay with you. Not to change your mind. Not to convince you of anything. Just—" His voice broke. "Just let me hold you one more time before everything ends."

I should have said no. Should have kept the distance we'd been maintaining, should have protected myself from one more night of pretending we could work. But looking at him—at the man I'd loved for so long, who was finally letting me go—I couldn't.

"Okay," I whispered. "Tonight."