Chapter 107 #107
Chapter 107
~Shailyn's POV~
The door opened slowly.
Dwayne stepped inside.
My heart stopped.
"Hey," he said quietly, closing the door behind him.
"Hey." I tried to smile. Failed. "I thought everyone left."
"Most of them did. Hannah's in the waiting room. She refuses to go home." He moved closer to the bed. "Dante went home to change and shower. Father went to rest."
"And you?"
"I wanted to check on you."
"I'm fine."
He looked at me. Really looked at me. At my swollen eyes. My red nose. The tissues clutched in my hand.
"You've been crying."
"I'm just overwhelmed. Hormones."
"Shailyn."
"Really. I'm okay."
He pulled the chair closer to the bed and sat down. "You don't have to pretend with me."
"I'm not pretending."
"Yes, you are. You've been pretending since you woke up."
My breath caught. "What do you mean?"
"I mean you're scared. And you're trying to hold it together for everyone else. But you don't have to do that."
"Dwayne—"
"The panic attack. The bleeding. The stress." He leaned forward. "Whatever caused it, you can tell me."
I looked at him. At the genuine concern in his eyes. At the way he was looking at me like I actually mattered.
How could I tell him the truth?
How could I tell him that I remembered everything? That I knew the babies were his? That I knew about my father's murder? That I knew Dante had been lying to me for months?
How could I burden him with that when he already carried so much?
"I'm just tired," I said finally. "Tired of everything."
"I know."
"The memory loss. The stress. The constant wondering what's real and what's not."
"That must be exhausting."
"It is." I looked down at my hands. "I just want to rest. I want to stop thinking. Stop worrying. Stop trying to piece everything together."
"Then rest."
"What?"
"Rest. Stop trying to figure everything out right now. Just focus on getting better. On taking care of yourself and those babies."
Tears pricked my eyes again. "It's not that simple."
"Why not?"
"Because—" I stopped. Bit my lip. "Because everything's so complicated."
"It doesn't have to be."
"Dwayne, you don't understand—"
"Then help me understand."
I wanted to. God, I wanted to tell him everything. To unload all of it. To stop carrying this alone.
But I couldn't.
Not yet.
Not until I figured out what to do.
"I can't," I whispered.
He was quiet for a long moment. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"Yeah. Okay. You don't have to tell me anything you're not ready to tell me. But I'm here. When you are ready."
Fresh tears spilled down my cheeks. "Why are you being so nice to me?"
"Because you deserve nice."
"You don't even know me."
"I know enough."
"You don't. You really don't."
"Then let me get to know you."
I shook my head. "It's too complicated."
"Stop saying that."
"But it is. You're Dante's brother. I'm Dante's wife. These babies are Dante's—" I stopped. Choked on the word.
Dwayne's expression didn't change. "Are they?"
My blood turned to ice. "What?"
"Are the babies Dante's?"
"Of course they are. What kind of question—"
"A valid one."
"Dwayne, I don't know what you're implying—" I said quicky in panic.
"I'm not implying anything. I'm just saying that things aren't always what they seem."
"What does that mean?"
He leaned back in his chair. "It means that sometimes we believe what we're told because it's easier than questioning it. But that doesn't make it true."
I stared at him. My heart pounding so hard I thought it might break through my ribs.
Did he know?
How could he know?
"I think you should rest," he said finally, standing up. "You've been through enough today."
"Dwayne—"
"Sleep, Shailyn. We can talk later."
"I don't think I can sleep."
"Try. For the babies."
I nodded slowly. "Okay."
He moved to the door, then paused. "Do you want me to stay? Until you fall asleep?"
"You don't have to—"
"I want to."
Something in his voice made me nod. "Okay."
He settled back into the chair, and I closed my eyes.
But I couldn't sleep.
My mind was racing. Spiraling. Replaying everything.
The letter. The murder. The lies. The babies.
Dwayne.
What did he know? What did he suspect?
I kept my breathing even. Steady. Pretending to drift off.
Minutes passed.
Five. Ten. Fifteen.
Then Dwayne spoke.
"I don't know if you can hear me," he said quietly. "But I need to say this. Even if you're asleep."
I kept my eyes closed. Kept my breathing steady.
"I'm lost, Shailyn." His voice was raw. Broken. "Completely fucking lost."
Silence.
"I don't know what to do. I don't know how to fix this. How to make this right."
I heard him shift in the chair.
"Those babies. Your babies." He paused. "I want to claim them. I want to stand up and tell everyone the truth. But I can't. Because you don't remember. And even if you did—"
His voice cracked.
"Even if you did remember, would it change anything? Would you believe me? Would you choose me?"
My heart was breaking.
"I keep hoping your memory will come back," he continued. "That you'll wake up one day and just know. Know everything. Know the truth about Dante. About my family. About that night."
That night.
The mask party.
He knew.
"I'd do anything for you," he whispered. "Anything. If I could take your pain away, I would. If I could make you remember without it hurting you, I would."
A long pause.
"But I can't. And that's killing me."
I heard him stand. Heard his footsteps moving closer to the bed.
"I need you to know something," he said. His voice was right above me now. "Even if you never hear this. Even if you never remember."
He paused.
And then—
"I love you, Shailyn."
My heart stopped.
"I've loved you since that night. Since before I even knew who you were. And I will spend the rest of my life making sure that everyone who hurt you pays the price for what they've done."
The words hung in the air.
Heavy. Final. Absolute.
"All of them—" His voice turned cold. Dangerous. "They will pay for what they've done to you. To your family. To my mother."
"I promise you that."
Silence.
I felt him lean down. Felt his breath against my forehead.
And then his lips. Soft. Gentle. Pressing against my skin for just a moment.
"Sleep well, Shailyn," he whispered.
His footsteps moved away. The door opened. Closed.
I lay there, frozen.
My eyes squeezed shut.
My heart hammering.
My mind reeling.
He loves me.
Dwayne loves me.
And he knows everything.