Chapter 95 Goodbyes Are Never Easy

Chapter 95 Goodbyes Are Never Easy
Marcus's POV

The sound of the ambulance doors slamming shut echoed in my skull long after the sirens faded. Bella’s blood was still on my hands.
I stood there in the hallway, staring at the red staining my skin, trying to process what had just happened. She had stepped in front of the bullet. There hadn’t been hesitation. No dramatic speech. Just movement. Ramsey’s scream when he realized—
I pushed the thought away.

Anna was shaking in my arms. Not hysterical. Not collapsing. Just trembling. Courtney was the first one to break the frozen silence.
“We have to go,” she said, voice tight but urgent. “Anna’s flight.”
For a second, the words didn’t compute. Flight. Airport. Europe. This was supposed to be the day she left for Leith. For her future. For everything she’d worked toward.
Anna pulled back from me, eyes wide with disbelief. “Are you insane? I’m not going anywhere right now.”
“Yes, you are,” Courtney insisted. “You cannot let that man take this from you too.”
Anna shook her head. “Bella—”
“Is on her way to the hospital,” Damian said firmly. “With police. With doctors. With everyone she needs.”
Peter stepped closer, his jaw tight. “You staying won’t undo what just happened.”
Anna’s eyes filled with tears. “This is not the time for me to get on a plane.”
I cupped her face gently, forcing her to look at me.
“Anna.”

Her breathing hitched.
“We’re okay,” I said softly but steadily. “Nothing is stopping you from going to Leith.”
Her tears spilled over. “Marcus—”
“I mean it.”
Because I did. Ramsey had tried to destroy my peace. He’d aimed at the one person who made everything steadier. And Bella had stepped in front of it. If Anna stayed now—if she missed her flight—Ramsey would still win something. And I refused to give him that.
“You don’t get smaller for me,” I reminded her quietly.
She let out a broken laugh through her tears. “You’re really going to use my own words against me?”
“Absolutely.”
Damian checked his watch. “If we leave now, we’ll make it.”
Anna looked between us—at Courtney’s fierce determination, at Peter’s quiet support, at Damian’s calm strength. At me.
“I can’t just walk away,” she whispered.
“You’re not walking away,” I said. “You’re walking forward.”

There was a difference. And she knew it. Finally, she nodded. The ride to the airport felt unreal. Too quiet. Courtney held Anna’s hand in the back seat. Peter stared out the window, jaw clenched. Damian drove faster than usual but steady. I sat beside Anna, our fingers intertwined so tightly it almost hurt.
“I should be at the hospital,” she murmured at one point.
“You’ll call,” I said. “We’ll keep you updated every second.”
“She saved me.”
The weight of that truth settled heavy between us.
“Yes,” I said.
Anna closed her eyes briefly. “I didn’t even see her move.”
“Neither did I.”

The airport came into view sooner than I was ready for. Time was cruel like that. Damian pulled up to departures. Peter jumped out to grab her luggage before I could even shift. The world around us moved normally—families hugging, announcements overhead, rolling suitcases rattling across pavement. It felt obscene that everything else kept going. Courtney wrapped Anna in a crushing hug first.
“Live your dream,” she whispered fiercely. “You hear me? Don’t you dare shrink because of today.”
Anna clung to her. “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
Damian stepped forward next, pulling Anna into a firm embrace.
“You’re going to be brilliant,” he told her quietly. “And if anyone over there gives you trouble, I will personally fly across the ocean.”
A watery smile crossed her face. “Noted.”
Peter hugged her last before me, tighter than usual.
“Bring back chocolate,” he muttered gruffly. “And don’t forget us when you’re famous.”
“I couldn’t if I tried.”
Then they stepped back. Giving us space. The noise of the terminal faded into a dull hum. It was just us. Anna and me. She looked smaller somehow with her boarding pass in hand and tears still clinging to her lashes.
“I don’t want to leave you like this,” she admitted.
I brushed my thumb under her eye gently. “Like what?”
“After everything.”
I exhaled slowly.
“Anna, today proved something.”
“What?”
“That no matter how ugly things get, we survive them.”
Her lips trembled.
“I was so scared,” she whispered.
“I know.”
“I thought—” Her voice broke.
“I know,” I repeated, pulling her into me.

I held her like I memorized the shape of her.
“You can’t miss this,” I murmured into her hair. “You worked too hard.”
“But you—”
“I’ll be right here. Healing. Getting stronger. Waiting for you to come back and tell me everything about European museums.”
A weak laugh escaped her.
“You’re going to visit.”
“Constantly.”
“And you’re not going to do anything reckless while I’m gone.”
“I make no promises,” I said lightly.
She smacked my chest softly. “Marcus.”
“I’ll behave,” I amended.
The overhead speakers crackled.
“Final boarding call for Flight 247 to London. Passenger Anna Donovan—please proceed to Gate 12 immediately.”
Her name echoed through the terminal. Time was up. Her fingers tightened in my jacket.
“I love you,” she said, the words rushed and desperate and full.
I pressed my forehead to hers.
“I love you more.”
She shook her head. “Impossible.”
“Watch me.”

For a second, neither of us moved. Then she leaned up and kissed me. It wasn’t frantic. It wasn’t panicked. It was slow. Certain. A promise wrapped in breath and warmth and everything we’d survived. When she pulled back, her eyes were shining—but steady.
“I’m going to make you proud,” she whispered.
“You already do.”
Another announcement. She picked up her bag. Took one step backward. Then another. I forced myself not to reach for her again.
She turned at the security line, searching for me in the crowd. I was exactly where she left me. She smiled. And then she was gone.
The space she left behind felt enormous. But beneath the ache was something stronger. Ramsey had tried to destroy my peace.
Instead, he’d shown me exactly how much it was worth. Anna wasn’t running from what happened. She was running toward her future. And nothing—not bullets, not broken empires, not oceans—was going to stop her.

I stood there long after she disappeared from sight. Healing wasn’t just physical. It was letting go when holding on would cost someone their dream. I pulled out my phone.
Text me when you land, I typed.
Three dots appeared almost instantly.
Already miss you, she replied.
I smiled, even as my chest tightened. The worst had tried to take her from me. It failed. Now she was flying toward something brighter. And I would be right here when she came home.