Chapter 121 Fracture
Briar's POV
I'd spent an hour assembling ninety-nine lollipops into a bouquet until my fingers cramped. It sat in my trunk now. The hospital parking lot wasn't the place for grand gestures, so I grabbed the breakfast bag instead and headed toward the entrance.
I found Lucian near the flower beds outside the main building, hands in his pockets, staring at nothing. Exhaustion lined his face, and his usually sharp posture had softened into something almost defeated.
I approached slowly and held out the paper bag. "Is Ash awake?"
Lucian looked down at the bag, and his jaw tightened slightly. "No."
"You have to try their bread," I'd told him. "It's the best in the city." But now, watching him stare at the bag like it was something foreign and unwanted, I realized he had no intention of eating it.
Through the bond, I felt the pressure of his emotions, a heavy weight that made my chest ache. It wasn't anger exactly. It was something worse, something that felt like resignation mixed with pain.
I reached out carefully and rested my hand on top of his. When he didn't pull away immediately, I gathered my courage and slid my fingers into his palm, threading them together. "I'm sorry. Before, I was wrong. But after we got together, I never lied to you again."
His hand was warm beneath mine but completely still. I gave it a small shake. "Just forgive me this once, okay?"
For a moment, I thought he might relent. His fingers twitched against mine, and through the bond I felt something shift—a crack in the wall he'd built. But then he pulled away and pressed the bag back into my grip.
The rejection was physical, like a slap. I stared at the bag and felt something hot and desperate rising in my throat. This couldn't be it. We couldn't end like this, with him handing me back bread and walking away.
I threw the bag aside and grabbed his shoulders, forcing him to face me. "What do you mean? Say it clearly!"
Lucian's face was carefully blank, but his voice came out rough and strained. "Let's end it here."
My grip on his shoulders weakened, and I found myself standing up, backing away slightly. "Why?"
"My feelings for you, from beginning to end, were real," he said quietly.
The guilt crashed over me in waves, and I heard myself saying something stupid and defensive before I could stop it. "Even if I had ulterior motives at first, can you guarantee that everyone who approaches you has pure intentions?"
"I can't," Lucian agreed, and for a second I thought maybe he understood, maybe this could be salvaged. Then he delivered the killing blow. "But you knew that in my heart, you were different from all those people."
The words hit me square in the chest, and whatever composure I'd been clinging to crumbled. He was right. I had known. From the beginning, I'd known he saw me differently, trusted me in a way he didn't trust anyone else. And I'd used that trust to manipulate him.
Lucian stood up. "What happened to Ash was my fault for not being vigilant enough, for not protecting him. I don't blame you. But I need you to understand that something like this can't happen a second time."
I nodded mechanically, my throat too tight to speak. "Okay. Okay then."
I tilted my head back and stared at the sky, hoping the brightness would give me an excuse for the tears burning behind my eyes. But the weather was perfect, clear and sunny without a single cloud. Even the universe was refusing to cooperate.
Lucian started walking toward the hospital entrance, then paused. Without turning around, he said, "If Ash's condition improves, I'll let you know. The company is so busy, you don't need to keep running back and forth."
I bent down and grabbed the discarded breakfast bag, shoving it into a nearby trash can with more force than necessary. "I'm here to see my own employee. Since when do you get to tell me what to do?"
He didn't respond, just continued toward the entrance. I turned and walked in the opposite direction, refusing to look back. If I was slower, if I hesitated, it would feel like losing.
My heel caught in a crack and I stumbled. The frustration exploded—I kicked off both shoes, leaving them behind. The concrete was rough under my bare feet, small stones digging into my skin. By the time I reached my car, thin cuts lined my soles, tiny lines of blood marking my path.
I opened the trunk and stared at the ridiculous lollipop bouquet. All that time spent arranging it, all those stupid ribbons, and for what? I grabbed it and walked to the nearest trash bin, shoving it inside until it was completely buried under other garbage.
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Willow's POV
I'd received the call at three in the morning. "We found him in the woods, Miss Davenport. He's barely conscious."
By the time they brought Julian to my estate, he was completely unconscious, reeking of alcohol and covered in dirt. I had them carry him to the guest bedroom, then dismissed everyone. This moment was mine alone.
The room was dark except for moonlight through the curtains. I sat on the bed's edge, studying Julian's sleeping face. Even now, tension lined his features, a tightness around his eyes that never relaxed. I reached for the manual razor and carefully began shaving away days of accumulated stubble.
Each stroke was precise and deliberate. I worked slowly, my fingers gentle against his jaw as I tilted his face to catch the light. When I was finished, I used my thumb to smooth the crease between his eyebrows.
I stayed there for ten minutes, maybe longer, just watching him sleep. His chest rose and fell with steady breaths, and his face had finally relaxed into something peaceful. This was the Julian that existed beneath all the anger and violence, the one that only I seemed to see.
My fingers traced the line of his eyebrow down to his cheekbone, then lower to his lips. "You're a gambler who's too soft-hearted," I whispered. "If you'd been more ruthless, Briar wouldn't have lasted this long."
I leaned down until my lips were nearly touching his ear. "The evil you can't do, I'll wield the blade for you."
A soft knock at the door pulled me away from the bed. I smoothed my dress and walked downstairs to the tea room, where Sparrow was waiting.
I settled into my chair and gestured for him to sit. He placed the drive on the tea table between us, and I picked it up, turning it over in my fingers before slipping it into my pocket.
"Your mother's surgery has been arranged," I said pleasantly, pouring tea into two cups. I slid one across the table to him, then added with a small smile, "But on the operating table... there are always accidents, aren't there?"
The color drained from Sparrow's face, and a thin sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead. He stood up quickly, bowed stiffly, and backed out of the room without touching his tea.
I sipped mine slowly and let my mind drift back to earlier that day. The coffee shop had been crowded and warm, and I'd been sitting by the window when Ash approached my table.
"Sundaes are half-price for the second one. Want to share?" he'd asked with an eager smile.
I'd smiled back, warm and friendly. "Sure, thank you."
We'd chatted for about five minutes, nothing significant, just pleasant small talk about the weather and the quality of the ice cream. He was sweet and earnest and completely trusting. When he left, he'd waved goodbye with genuine warmth.
I'd watched him go, then looked down at my melting sundae. After exactly three seconds, I picked up the cup and dumped it in the trash. I pulled out a wet wipe and cleaned my fingers carefully, methodically, until there was no trace of the ice cream left.
Then I'd turned to Sparrow who'd been waiting near the door. "Follow him."