Chapter 87 Chapter 87
Chapter 87
Ethan sat across from Dr. Lui in the familiar leather chair, hands resting on his knees, shoulders stiff the way they always got when he was about to say something big. The office smelled like clean paper and that light lavender oil the doctor kept in a little diffuser.
Nothing about the room ever felt heavy or pushy, but Ethan still shifted like the seat was too small for him.
“I think I like her, doc,” he said, the words slipping out fast, like he’d been holding them too long. “What should I do?”
Dr. Lui didn’t flinch. A small, real smile touched his mouth. “I knew this day would come, Ethan. And I’m proud of you.”
Ethan let out a breath he didn’t realize he was keeping. He rubbed his palms together, slow. “I don’t know. I like her, yeah. But I don’t know if it’s real or if I just like how she makes everything feel… easier.”
“That’s honest,” Dr. Lui said. “Most people never stop to ask the question.”
Ethan leaned back a little, eyes going up to the plain white ceiling. “She doesn’t push. Doesn’t demand. Doesn’t look at me like I owe her pieces of myself.” His voice dropped softer. “And that scares me.”
Dr. Lui nodded once. “Because it’s different.”
“Because it’s real,” Ethan said, correcting him quietly.
The doctor watched him for a second. “Close your eyes.”
Ethan paused, then did it.
“Take a slow breath,” Dr. Lui said, calm and steady. “No rush.”
Ethan pulled air in through his nose, let it out slow. His shoulders dropped a fraction.
“Now tell me,” the doctor went on, “what comes up when you picture her?”
Ethan stayed quiet for a beat. “Calm,” he said finally. “Not that wild rush like before. Not restless. Just… calm. Like I don’t have to perform.”
“Good,” Dr. Lui said. “Open your eyes.”
Ethan did.
“That calm isn’t nothing,” the doctor told him gently. “It’s safety.”
Ethan swallowed. “What if it goes away?”
“Everything shifts eventually,” Dr. Lui said. “But healing isn’t about never feeling scared again. It’s about walking forward even when you do.”
A soft knock came at the door. The nurse stepped in, set the usual bottle of pills on the low table between them, and left without a word.
Ethan’s gaze dropped to the bottle. He stared at it longer than he meant to.
“I don’t need them anymore, doc,” he said.
Dr. Lui didn’t touch the bottle. “Tell me why.”
“I feel okay,” Ethan answered. “Not numb. Not drifting. I wake up and I know where I am. The guilt’s still there won’t lie about that but it doesn’t run the show anymore. I’m actually healing from the past.”
Dr. Lui leaned back in his chair. “Healing doesn’t wipe guilt clean in one sweep. It shows you how to carry it without letting it crush you.”
Ethan nodded. “I trust that.”
“Then trust yourself too,” the doctor said.
They talked a while longer about keeping balance, setting clear lines, giving himself room to breathe. When Ethan finally stood, he felt lighter in his body, like some invisible tightness had loosened.
He shook Dr. Lui’s hand. “Thank you.”
“Drive safe,” the doctor said. “And remember—you’re allowed to pick peace.”
Ethan gave a small nod and walked out.
The drive home was quiet. The Lamborghini hummed under him, road lights sliding across the windshield, city noise muffled through the windows. Everything felt far away, background to the thoughts in his head.
Celine’s face showed up without him trying. Her shy half-smiles. The careful way she picked her words like they actually meant something. How she never reached for more than he gave.
By the time he pulled into the garage and took the elevator up, his heartbeat felt even.
The doors opened to the private foyer.
And there she was.
Amelia stood right outside his door, leaning against the wall like she had every right to be there.
Tight dress hugging every curve, the kind of outfit that screamed she’d paid good money for the body underneath it BBL work obvious in the way her hips sat, round and deliberate.
She looked the same as always: put together sharp, waiting to be seen, eyes already locked on him the second the elevator dinged.
Ethan stopped cold.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, voice flat.
Amelia straightened, lips curving into that smile she practiced. “I came to see you.”
“I’ve told you over and over to stop showing up,” he said, irritation starting to show. “Stop coming to my place.
Let me breathe.”
Her smile slipped a notch. “Ethan—”
“No,” he said sharp. “Stop.”
She stepped closer anyway, heels clicking on the marble. “You can’t just wipe me out,” she said. “Not after all of it.”
“I can,” Ethan told her. “And I’m doing it.”
Amelia reached out, fingers brushing his sleeve. “Please,” she said softer. “Look at me. Really look.
I love you. Why throw that away for some girl you don’t even know properly?”
Ethan pulled back, one step. “I don’t care, Amelia.”
Her face changed anger pushing up under the surface.
“I did everything for you,” she said. “All of this.” She gestured down at herself, the dress, the body she’d reshaped. “I did it for you.”
Ethan didn’t budge. His face stayed steady.
“You failed as a person,” he said, quiet.
The words hit hard.
Amelia went stiff, eyes wide like she couldn’t believe what came out of his mouth. “How dare you—”
Ethan turned and walked to his door.
Halfway, he stopped.
He didn’t turn around.
“Don’t come back here again.”
He punched in the code, stepped inside, shut the door firm. The lock clicked loud in the quiet hallway.
Amelia stood there alone in the foyer. Her hands shook at her sides. Rage bubbled up fast, mixed with shock and something raw—actual fear.
She had never felt this out of control.
And that shook her worse than the words.
She stared at the closed door a long minute, breathing short.
Then she turned, snatched her bag from where she’d set it against the wall, and walked to the elevator. The ride down dragged.
Her reflection stared back in the mirrored walls still flawless, still expensive but her eyes looked different. Shaky and lost.
She stepped into the lobby, heels loud on the floor. Outside, the night air brushed her face, cool.
She didn’t cry. She wouldn’t.
But her jaw stayed locked tight all the way to her car.
Inside the penthouse, Ethan stood in the entry a second, still in his coat. He exhaled long, peeled the coat off, hung it up. Then he walked to the living room, dropped onto the couch, elbows on knees, hands hanging loose.
He thought about what Dr. Lui said.
Safety.
Peace.
Celine came to mind again how she stayed soft, never demanding, just there.
A small smile pulled at his mouth. Nothing big. Just honest.
He got up, walked to the big window, looked down at the city lights scattered out.
For once, the view didn’t feel empty.
It felt open.