Chapter 152 No more fake efforts

Chapter 152 No more fake efforts
Knox,

“Who is this guy?” I asked quietly, my voice deliberately low as I sat at the dining table. The warm pasta in front of me looked appetizing, smelled rich, but tasted like nothing the moment I noticed how relaxed she looked beside another man. Her posture was loose, shoulders unguarded, laughter easy. It irritated me more than it should have.

Mark flicked a glance in the man’s direction and then dropped his gaze back to his plate, stabbing at his food as if it demanded his full attention. “Xavier Watson,” he replied flatly. “Violet’s friend. And someone who is openly in love with her.”

My fingers paused mid-motion, the fork hovering inches above the plate. “In love with her?” My jaw tightened, muscles flexing painfully. “Despite knowing she’s married and has a child?”

“He’s been in love with her since high school,” Mark said, chewing slowly. “Even before you two got together. So yeah.”

The words were casual, indifferent, but something in my chest constricted sharply. So there had always been someone else. A man who stayed, who waited, while she chased a ghost. A man who remembered her, while I couldn’t.

“So that jerk really forgot everything, huh?” Xavier’s voice cut through the room. He didn’t even bother lowering it as he pointed at me, his expression amused, unapologetic.

Violet immediately smacked the back of his head, though she was laughing. “Stop swearing in front of my kid. Otherwise, I’ll kick you out of my house.”

“Ugh! My heart is broken,” he groaned theatrically. “You heartless queen.” He clutched the left side of his chest as if in pain, exaggerating every movement.

“Xav, funny!” Cyrus giggled, crumbs sticking to his fingers as he bit into the egg tarts we brought.

“It’s not funny, bud,” Xavier said dramatically, crouching down to Cyrus’s level. “Your mother hates me.”

“Mamma? Hate?” Cyrus tilted his head, brows knitting together in pure curiosity.

“It’s nothing, sweetheart,” Violet said quickly, brushing Cyrus’s hair back with gentle fingers. “Xav is being stupid.”

“Sss…pid!” Cyrus sucked in a sharp breath, struggling adorably with the word.

“See?” Xavier pointed accusingly. “You’re the one teaching your son bad words.”

“Shut up.”

I narrowed my eyes slightly, watching them. Violet looked radiant, alive, like a moon glowing freely beneath a dark, clouded sky. This version of her wasn’t cautious or restrained. She was simply… herself.

My fingers tightened instinctively around the stem of the red wine glass. I didn’t realize how much force I was applying until the glass cracked with a sharp sound, shattering into my palm. Pain flared instantly, hot and biting, as shards dug into my skin.

Everyone flinched.

Violet turned immediately, her smile vanishing. Her eyes widened in pure shock when she saw my hand, blood seeping between my fingers.

“Knox?” Her chair scraped loudly as she stood. “What happened?” She rushed toward me like I was the one collapsing.

“Damn,” she muttered softly, more worried than angry. “Control your strength, honey.” She grabbed napkins quickly, pressing them against my hand, her movements brisk but gentle.

My gaze flickered to Mark. He rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath before walking away.

“What’s gotten into you?” Violet asked, her brows furrowing as she leaned closer. “You look flushed. You’re warm too.” The back of her cool hand pressed against my forehead. “No fever.” She exhaled softly. “Sit still. Let me treat your hand first.”

“What’s up, Knox?” Xavier smirked, utterly unbothered. He ruffled Cyrus’s hair playfully. “Did you get jealous that your wife is so lovey-dovey with me? You won’t believe this, but she used to cry on my shoulder. She loves me more than she loves you.”

“Shut up, Xav. Keep your stinky mouth to yourself,” Violet snapped, sharp this time, as Erica approached with the first aid box.

“Son, don’t move, okay?” Erica said anxiously, her voice trembling as she hovered nearby.

What a pathetic situation I had created.

Violet sat beside me, carefully removing the glass fragments from my skin. Her hands were steady, but her lips trembled slightly. She applied the alcohol, wincing as if she were the one in pain. Her eyes glistened, and I could see her blinking rapidly, fighting tears.

“You can’t be careless, Knox,” she murmured. “I know you’re used to pain, to getting hurt. But you need to control it now. It’s not healthy for you.”

“It’s fine,” Mark suddenly chimed in from across the room, his tone sharp. “Let him feel the pain. He loves it.”

Violet let out a small laugh, forced but light. “Yeah. Maybe I should help you form a mafia gang here. Kill all the notorious criminals and play with their blood.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Mark added dryly. “Call some girls too. Our Knox is missing some spice in his life.”

Violet’s smile dropped for a fraction of a second. She inhaled slowly, then straightened her expression. “Mark, did you drink too much wine? Go see Mirah if you don’t want cold shoulders tonight.”

She waved him away and returned her attention to my hand. Her movements slowed. She paused, then looked up at me.

“Are you really missing random girls in your bed?” Her voice wasn’t cold, but there was something fragile beneath it, something unsteady.

I didn’t answer. I just watched her clean my wound, my throat tight, chest heavy.

“You know…” she began softly, “when I woke up on that hospital bed, thinking I’d lost both you and our son, I thought my world had collapsed.” Her fingers trembled briefly before steadying. “I didn’t even know they hadn’t removed the child from my uterus for a long time. You were dead back then. That’s what I believed.”

She swallowed hard.

“The man I loved for years, the husband I wanted to grow old with, was gone. Do you know what I prayed to God then?”

She looked up at me, eyes glossy but unwavering. “I didn’t care if he wasn’t mine anymore. I didn’t care if he didn’t remember me. I just wanted him alive.”

Her smile turned bitter as she applied the ointment. “When I learned you were alive, somewhere in the world, I felt hopeful again.”

She took a shaky breath. “I don’t care if you fake love. I don’t care if you’re just going through the motions.”

My heart dropped violently. How did she know? Had Mark told her? No. He was with me the whole time.

“I’ll let you go,” she said quietly, her voice trembling. “Having you breathing, eating, living… that’s more important than keeping you tied to us.”

“What are you doing?” My voice shook despite my effort to steady it. “You want me to leave you?”

“I never want to be separated from you,” she said gently. “But I won’t cage you.” She met my eyes fully now. “Do you think I didn’t notice? The hesitation. Even during our private moments. You don’t enjoy them. You endure them. Like chores.”

My eyes widened. She had seen everything.

“Violet, this is not—”

“You hate lies,” she interrupted softly. “ Sorry, You used to. Even when you lied to protect me.” She wrapped the bandage around my hand carefully. “I won’t lie anymore.”

“When we love someone,” she whispered, “we have the strength to let go.”

“Stop,” I hissed, panic creeping in. “I’m confused, okay? Until my memories come back, I can’t—”

“Okay,” she said immediately, smiling through the fracture in her expression. “Until then, do whatever you want. Don’t force fake efforts for me.”

She finished bandaging, then kissed the back of my hand lightly. “Let’s be friends, Knox..”

She stood up. Erica was behind her, visibly confused, having caught none of the whispered exchange.

“Erica,” Violet said calmly, “ask the cleaners to prepare Knox’s bedroom. He’ll move in tonight.”

I stood frozen. I thought I was good at pretending.

Once again, I underestimated her.