153

153

Scarlet’s POV

Something was wrong.

I woke up and reached for Alex, but the space beside me was empty. My heart lurched, panic tightening in my chest. Where was he? My fingers gripped the blanket as I sat up quickly, my head spinning for a second from the sudden movement.

He was still weak. He was still poisoned. He wasn’t supposed to be moving around.

I threw the blanket off and got out of bed, rushing toward the door. My hands trembled slightly as I held onto the wall for support. The pregnancy was making me sluggish, but I didn’t care. Right now, all I could think about was finding him.

What if something happened to him?

What if he collapsed somewhere and I wasn’t there?

I shook the thoughts away and made my way downstairs, my feet moving faster when I heard the faint sound of plates clinking.

I stopped at the entrance of the dining room.

Alex was there.

He was standing by the table, carefully setting down a plate of food. He looked up and smiled when he saw me, as if nothing had happened, as if he wasn’t supposed to be resting.

Relief crashed into me like a wave, but I quickly masked it.

I crossed my arms, tilting my chin up. “You shouldn’t be up.”

His smile didn’t fade. Instead, he pulled out a chair. “Come eat.”

I hesitated.

He looked fine, better than yesterday at least, but I knew the truth. The poison was still in his body, and there was no cure. He was only pretending to be okay.

But for how long?

I walked over and sat down, keeping my face blank as he placed a plate in front of me. The smell of food hit me instantly, making my stomach growl. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until now.

“You slept a lot,” Alex said, sitting across from me. “You needed it.”

I picked up my fork, pretending not to care. “It’s because of the pregnancy.”

I felt his gaze on me, but I didn’t look up. Instead, I focused on the food, pushing it around my plate.

I was worried about him.

I didn’t want to be, but I was.

Every time I thought about the poison inside him, my chest tightened. There was no cure. He was still breathing now, still smiling at me, but what about tomorrow? What if one day he didn’t wake up?

The thought made my stomach churn.

I stole a glance at him, and my heart twisted. He was eating, but there was something in his expression, something distant.

Was he in pain?

I quickly looked away before he caught me staring.

“I have to leave for a while later,” he said suddenly.

I tensed.

“Where?”

“Just a meeting.”

My grip tightened on my fork. “You’re still recovering.”

“I’ll be fine.”

I hated that answer.

I pushed my plate away, suddenly not hungry anymore. “You think you’re invincible, don’t you?”

Alex sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “Scarlet—”

“You almost died,” I snapped. “Or did you forget that?”

His expression softened. “I didn’t forget.”

“Then why are you acting like everything is fine?” My voice wavered slightly, and I hated it.

I didn’t want to care. I didn’t want to feel this way.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Because I don’t have a choice.”

I scoffed, shaking my head. “There’s always a choice.”

“Not for me.” His voice was low, filled with something I couldn’t quite place.

I exhaled sharply, pushing my chair back. “Do whatever you want, then.”

I stood up, but before I could take a step, his hand wrapped around my wrist.

“Wait.”

I froze.

His touch was warm, gentle, and it sent a shiver through me. I looked down at him, but he wasn’t trying to stop me. He was just… holding on.

His eyes met mine, and for a moment, the air between us felt heavier.

“I know you’re mad,” he said. “I know you don’t trust me. But I’m trying, Scarlet.”

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry.I stormed toward the stairs, determined to put some distance between us.

But before I could take another step, I heard his chair scrape against the floor. Footsteps followed, quick and urgent.

“Scarlet.”

I ignored him. I didn’t want to hear his excuses, didn’t want to see his stubbornness, his refusal to put himself first.

“Scarlet, stop.”

A warm hand wrapped around my wrist again, pulling me back. My breath hitched, but I forced myself to keep my face blank.

“What?” I snapped, turning to face him.

He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. “Why are you so angry?”

“Why am I—?” I let out a bitter laugh. “Are you serious right now?”

His eyes held mine, searching, waiting.

I yanked my hand free. “You don’t get it, do you? You’re poisoned, Alex. You could die.” My voice wavered slightly at the last word, and I hated how weak it made me sound.

His expression didn’t change. “I won’t.”

“Really?” I scoffed. “Because last time I checked, there’s no cure.”

He stayed silent.

I crossed my arms over my chest, my nails digging into my skin. “You keep doing all these things—making food, pretending everything’s normal, acting like you’re fine—but you’re not fine, Alex. You’re dying, and you refuse to do anything about it.”

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t say anything.

My hands clenched into fists. “I don’t need you to take care of me. I don’t need your help, or your kindness, or whatever this is. I need you to save yourself.”

His eyes darkened slightly. “And what if I can’t?”

I froze.

His shoulders tensed, his gaze unwavering. “What if there’s nothing to fix? What if I’m already—”

“Don’t,” I cut him off, my chest tightening. “Don’t say it.”

Silence stretched between us.

He sighed and took a step closer, his expression softening. “Scarlet, I promised you—I’ll be fine.”

I shook my head, looking away. “You can’t promise that.”

Another beat of silence. Then, so quietly I almost didn’t hear him, he said, “I know.”

Something inside me twisted painfully.

I wanted to yell at him, shake him, force him to understand how much this was killing me too. But I couldn’t. Because if I admitted that, I’d have to admit I cared.

And I couldn’t.

I wouldn’t.

I turned away again. “Do whatever you want, Alex.”

I took another step toward the stairs, but before I could leave, I heard a sound that made my breath hitch.

A soft thud.

I spun around—

And my heart stopped.

He was on his knees.

I stared at him, my chest tightening painfully.

“Alex,” I breathed, barely above a whisper.

He didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

His hands curled into fists against the floor, his head slightly bowed.

Then, slowly, he looked up—

And I saw them.

Tears.

Real, raw, unshed tears clung to his lashes, and I felt the air leave my lungs.

I had never seen him like this.

Not once.

He was always composed, always in control. But now—

Now, he looked broken.

“I know I don’t deserve you,” he said, his voice rough, strained. “I know I’ve done terrible things. I know I hurt you.”

I swallowed hard, my throat aching.

He took a shaky breath. “But please… don’t leave me.”

I clenched my fists at my sides, trying to ignore the way my chest ached at his words.

“Please, Scarlet.” His voice cracked slightly, and something inside me shattered.

I had spent so long pretending I didn’t care.

But seeing him like this—

Seeing him vulnerable, desperate, pleading—

It hurt.

It hurt more than anything.

And I hated it.

Hated that a part of me still ached for him.

Hated that a part of me wanted to believe he could change.

Hated that, despite everything, I still—

I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the tears away.

I couldn’t do this.