Chapter 223 Do You Still Love Him?

Chapter 223 Do You Still Love Him?
ELARA

Thank goodness she was alive.

The moment Mia’s assistant called me and told me she had finally woken up, I didn’t even think twice. The contract on the table, the documents waiting for my signature, and the people watching me in confusion suddenly meant nothing. I pushed everything aside and left without a second glance.

I didn’t care anymore, not about the meeting, not about the signatures, and not about anything else happening in that room. All that mattered was one thing Mia was awake, my sister from another mother was alive.

For two weeks, I had carried the fear of losing her. Every time I looked at that hospital room, every time I saw her lying there without moving, a part of me felt like I was drowning.

But now she was awake.

I grabbed my things and drove straight to the hospital without thinking twice. I don’t even remember the journey clearly because my mind was too loud, too full of questions I couldn’t silence. My hands stayed tight on the steering wheel the entire time, my thoughts running faster than the road ahead.

Was she in pain? Was she angry? Did she remember what happened? Did she know how close she had come to not making it at all?

I didn’t care if I looked desperate. I was desperate.

All I needed was to see her.

The moment I reached the VIP floor, I didn’t wait for anyone to announce me. I pushed the door open, and there she was Mia, sitting on the bed, alive.

My chest tightened so painfully that for a second I forgot how to breathe. Her uncle was beside her, but I barely even noticed him. My eyes were locked on Mia alone.

“Mia…” My voice broke the moment I said her name.

I rushed toward her, but my steps slowed just before I reached the bed. I wanted to hug her, to hold her carefully, but fear held me back. Fear that one wrong movement would hurt her. Fear that I would see blood again. Fear that she might slip away from me all over again.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, and then the tears came before I could stop them. “I’m so sorry.”

My voice shook as I moved closer anyway, my hands hovering near hers before finally touching. “I should have protected you.”

I should have been the one sitting there strong for her. I should have been the one telling her everything was going to be fine. Instead, I was the one falling apart in front of her.

But then Mia reached for me.

Her hand wrapped around mine with surprising strength.

“Elara,” she whispered softly.

And somehow, the girl who had almost died was the one trying to steady me.

Her uncle looked between us for a moment, then quietly stepped out, leaving the room to us.

For a while, neither of us spoke. I just held her hand tightly, feeling its warmth, as if I needed that contact to convince myself she was truly here and not something my mind had created out of fear and hope.

Then Mia looked at me, really looked at me, and I already knew what was coming before she even spoke. That expression in her eyes was familiar the serious one.

The one she had whenever she already had a question in her mind and she wasn’t going to let me avoid it.

My stomach tightened as I heard her say my name.

“Mia…”

She didn’t answer me. She just kept staring, waiting, like she already knew I wouldn’t escape the question.

Then she asked it the one question I wasn’t ready for.

“Do you still love Alessandro?”

Everything inside me froze at once. My fingers slowly loosened around hers as if my body had given up before my mind could even respond. I looked away because the truth felt heavier than I was willing to carry in that moment.

Do I still love Alessandro?

A bitter, almost empty thought passed through me. I wanted to laugh at it. I wanted to shut it down immediately. I wanted to say no without hesitation.

I wanted to tell her that after everything he did, after all the pain, after everything he took from me, there should have been nothing left inside me for him.

But the words didn’t come out clean. They stayed stuck somewhere in my throat, heavy, refusing to move, as if even my own body was trying to stop me from saying them out loud.

Because the moment I tried to speak, my mind betrayed me again. It pulled me back to him—not the version I wanted to remember, not the one that made it easy to hate him, but the one I couldn’t fully erase.

And that was the part that scared me the most.

How could I still love him?

My fingers curled slightly against the fabric beside me, like I was trying to hold myself together, to keep something inside me from breaking loose.

He was the reason I had suffered. The reason I lost so much. The reason I had learned what pain actually felt like when it stayed too long and refused to leave.

He was the person I was supposed to hate, the kind of person you don’t go back to, the kind you don’t forgive, the kind you don’t even look at twice.

But then why did my heart hurt at the thought of him?

A sharp pull tightened in my chest, quiet but real enough to make me still, like my body was reacting before my thoughts could catch up.

Why did seeing him still make something inside me react? Why did hearing his name still affect me?

Each question came softer than the last, but none of them left. They stayed there, pressing into me, refusing to let me breathe past them properly.

I hated that.

I hated it in a way that made my throat tighten.

Because after everything, after all the tears I refused to show, after all the nights I told myself I was done, a part of me still remembered him. Not the monster everyone wanted him to be in my mind, not only the pain he left behind, but the man he used to be. The one who once made me believe something could be safe. The man I loved before he became the person who destroyed me.

Mia didn’t speak.

I could feel her watching me even before I looked up, and that silence between us changed the air in the room. It wasn’t just concern anymore; it felt heavier, sharper, like she was already hearing everything I was trying not to say.

Slowly, I lifted my eyes to her, and the moment I saw her face, something inside me dropped. Not anger, not softness just disappointment. And somehow that hurt more than anything else she could have shown me.

“I’m sorry,” I thought, but it never made it out.

I swallowed instead, forcing air into lungs that suddenly felt too tight, my grip tightening slightly against the blanket as if I could hold myself together that way.

“I don’t think I love him,” I finally said.

My voice didn’t sound steady. Even I could hear that.

Mia’s eyes narrowed slightly, studying me like she was waiting for me to take it back, like she was waiting for the truth to correct itself.

“You don’t think you love him?”

The way she repeated it made something twist hard in my chest.

I stayed quiet.

Because anything I said after that would have sounded like a lie.

“Elara.”

Just my name, but the way she said it made my shoulders tense.

There was something in her voice now anger, pain, concern that felt almost protective, like she was trying to pull me back before I drifted too far into something she already feared.

“He is your tormentor,” she said.

And that should have ended everything inside me. It should have shut every thought down, every doubt, every flicker of confusion.

It didn’t.

Because I knew what Alessandro did, I knew the pain he caused, and I knew the scars he left behind on parts of me I didn’t even talk about anymore. I could never forget them; they were written too deep, too permanent to erase.

But then why… why was my heart still beating for the same man who broke it?