Chapter 157 The Final Letter

Chapter 157 The Final Letter
Ava's POV

When Aria handed me the paper and pen, I felt a strange sense of calm wash over me. My hands were steady as I began to write, even though my heart was breaking into pieces.

Dear Rowan,

Thank you for giving me love. I am an orphan without family, and I never experienced what love truly meant until you showed me. You made me understand what it feels like to love someone with your whole heart.

I remember how you defended me in your home. I remember you buying me clothes without hesitation. I remember you taking me places, showing me a world I never knew existed. I was so happy. So incredibly happy that I fell in love with you.

But I shouldn't have fallen in love. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been with you when you had a mate bond with someone else. I didn't consider anything else. I was selfish. I love you.

Cecilia, I'm sorry. I am a bad woman. I was greedy for love, and Rowan's love made me lose my moral compass. I saw what people are saying online. It's all my fault. I will give him back to you. My child and I will leave together.

The tears kept flowing as I wrote, blurring the ink on the page. But I couldn't stop now. I had to finish this. I could hear footsteps in the hallway, and panic gripped me. What if Rowan came looking for me? I quickly folded the letter and placed it on the bedside table.

I have to do this now, before I lose my nerve.

Every step toward the stairwell sent sharp pains through my abdomen, reminders of what I'd lost. My bare feet were unsteady against the cold concrete steps, and I had to grip the handrail to keep from collapsing.

The physical pain was nothing compared to the ache in my chest, but my body was still weak from the miscarriage.

It's the despair that's carrying me now. The numbness. My body should be screaming for me to stop, but all I can feel is this hollow emptiness pushing me forward.

Halfway up, I stumbled and nearly fell, my vision blurring from exhaustion and grief. But something deeper than physical strength—a final surge of desperate resolve—forced me to continue climbing.

Just a little further. Just a little more, and all this pain will stop.

Each step felt like walking toward my salvation—away from the shame, away from the pain, away from a world that had branded me a homewrecker.

The roof was quiet when I reached it, the afternoon sky gray and overcast. I walked to the edge and looked down at the street below. From up here, the cars looked like toys, the people like ants. It was peaceful.

But my peace didn't last long.

"Ava!"

I turned to see Rowan bursting through the roof access door, followed by Aria and a dark-haired man I didn't recognize. Through the crowd gathering below, I caught a glimpse of black cars pulling up to the hospital. Even from this distance, I could see familiar figures emerging from the vehicles.

Rowan's face was wild with panic, his eyes red from crying.

"Ava, don't do this!" he shouted, taking a step toward me.

I positioned myself at the very edge of the roof, my toes hanging over the side. Strangely, I wasn't afraid. For once in my life, I wasn't scared.

"Rowan," I said softly, my voice carrying in the still air. "Thank you for everything. But you need to go back to where you belong now."

"My world is only you!" he cried out, tears streaming down his face. "Please, Ava, step away from the edge!"

I started crying too, but they weren't tears of fear. They were tears of relief. "The internet is too cruel, Rowan. They've judged me guilty. I am guilty. I'm dirty. I'm the mistress."

That's when I heard them—voices from the street below. I looked down to see a crowd gathering, phones pointed up at me like weapons. The vultures had arrived.

"She probably won't jump!" someone shouted. "Bitch is just putting on a show!"

Behind me, I heard the roof access door bang open again. A few persistent reporters and onlookers had somehow pushed past hospital security to follow us up here. I could hear security guards' voices echoing in the stairwell, trying to clear the area, but they were too late.

"The miscarriage was probably fake anyway!" one of the intruders called out. "If it was real, shouldn't she be in bed recovering?"

I laughed—a sound that came out broken and hollow. This was what my life had become. A spectacle for strangers to judge and mock.

"Shut up!" Rowan roared at the small crowd, his Alpha authority rippling through the air. "Get away from her!"

"If you're going to die, just die already!" someone from the street yelled up.

I wrapped my arms around myself, the words cutting deep. "I should die," I whispered. "I shouldn't have... I shouldn't have..."

"Ava, don't jump."

I turned to see Cecilia, Marcus, and Victor pushing through the few reporters who had made it onto the roof.

Security was finally arriving, trying to clear the unauthorized personnel, but the damage was done. Cecilia's expression was complex—not quite hatred, not quite pity. Marcus's face was grim, and Victor looked strangely satisfied, as if this outcome pleased him somehow.

"What's between him and me isn't entirely because of you," Cecilia said. "I hate you, yes. But you don't deserve to die."

Rowan started moving toward me, desperation in every step.

"If you come any closer, I'll jump right now," I warned him.

He froze, his hands raised in surrender, backing away slowly.

I could see phones everywhere now—the reporters livestreaming my final moments, people in the street below recording, turning my pain into content for their social media feeds.

The comments and laughter from the crowd below mixed with the chaotic voices from behind me as security tried to establish order.

This was it. This was how my story would end. Not quietly in a hospital bed, but as entertainment for a crowd that saw me as nothing more than a villain in someone else's love story.

I looked at Rowan one last time, memorizing his face—the man who had shown me what love felt like, even if I wasn't meant to keep it.

"I'm sorry, Rowan," I said, my voice carrying clearly in the suddenly silent air. "I love you."

Then I let myself fall forward.

The last thing I heard was Rowan's anguished "NO!" followed by screams, gasps, and the endless clicking of phone cameras capturing my final moment.

But I was grateful for one thing—I would never have to hear any of it again.