Her New Life, His Eternal Pain Chapter 14

Her New Life, His Eternal Pain Chapter 14 The Only Way To Atone

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Outside Fiona’s window, the sun was warm and the cherry blossoms were in full bloom, petals drifting down like pink snow.

She moved a chair to the window and sat down, enjoying the quiet, letting the warmth soak into her skin.

A knock at the door.

“Come in.”

She turned.

And her breath caught.

Liam Lane stood in the doorway.

Six years. He looked older. Thinner. The sharp lines of his jaw had softened, but his eyes-his eyes were harder. Colder. Like someone had drained the life out of them.

Then he saw her face.

And that cold mask shattered.

“Fiona.” His voice broke on her name. “You’re alive.”

He crossed the room in three strides-she barely saw him move-and pulled her into his arms, crushing her against his chest, his face buried in her hair.

“Thank God. Thank God you’re alive.”

Fiona was surprised for maybe a second. Then she went calm. Still, Like a lake at dawn.

This was the best hospital in the country. And it was close to Liam’s house. She’d known he’d find her eventually. She’d just hoped for a little more time.

He was shaking. Every part of him. She felt wetness drip onto her collar-his tears, hot and silent.

“Is it really you?” he whispered against her hair, his voice raw, “Tell me I’m not dreaming.”

“It’s me.” Her voice was flat, even. “Hi, Liam. Long time.”

“Why…” His whole body trembled. He was crying openly now, messily, like a kid who’d lost his mother in a crowd. “Why did you try to kill yourself? Why didn’t you tell me about the drug? Why did you let me believe you were dead?”

Fiona couldn’t breathe. He was squeezing too hard, his arms like iron bands.

“Liam. Let go. You’re gonna choke me.”

The word choke hit him like a bullet. His legs gave out. He slumped to the floor, his hands still gripping

hers, looking up at her like she was a ghost he’d been chasing for years.

“Don’t,” he begged. “Don’t die. Please. I’ll do anything.”

“I’m not going to die.” She pulled her hands free gently but firmly. “And I’m not leaving. But you should go.”

The color drained from his face like someone had pulled a plug.

What have I done? he thought. The memories came flooding back-every cruel word, every cold shoulder. every time he’d watched her suffer and felt nothing but satisfaction. What did I do to her?/

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry. Everything was my fault.”

Fiona’s face didn’t change. No anger. No pain. Nothing. Just… peaceful.

Like she didn’t care anymore.

Like she didn’t care about him anymore.

“Fiona, let’s start over—”

“Liam.” She cut him off, her voice calm as still water. “How’s your wife? Got any kids?”

He stared at her, mouth open.

“I haven’t told you yet. I married Samuel. Our daughter is Lily. You’ve met her.”

The words hit him like a physical blow. He stayed on his knees, lips parted, no sound coming out.

Fiona watched his face crumble-the way his brow furrowed, the way his jaw went slack-and felt… nothing.

So this is what I looked like, she thought, almost detached. When I heard he was marrying Serena.

Liam stood up slowly. His joints creaked. He nodded like his neck was made of rusted metal. “She’s cute. Lily, I mean.”

“But Fiona… can’t we-” His throat worked. The word please was right there, trembling on his tongue.

She didn’t let him finish.

“Liam. Do you want to kill me a second time?”

He froze.

“If I die again because of you,” she said quietly, her eyes locked on his, “even hell won’t be enough for you.”

He stumbled back, grabbing the bed railing for support. His face was white as the sheets, white as the walls, white as a corpse.

I can’t, he thought, the words cycling through his head like a prayer. I can’t be the reason she dies again.

“Don’t die,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He turned and walked out. His shoulders were slumped, his steps dragging. He looked like a dead man walking-no, like a man who wished he were dead.

Fiona watched him go and felt nothing but peace. A deep, quiet calm.

This is how it ends, she thought. The way it should have ended a long time ago.

Samuel came back. He walked into the room, paused, and started sniffing like a bloodhound.

Someone had been here. He knew it. His nostrils flared.

The cologne-Liam’s. That sharp, expensive scent he’d never been able to stand.

Samuel frowned, his jaw tightening. “This cologne isn’t as good as mine, is it?”

Fiona laughed a light, easy sound. She reached out and touched his arm. “Liam came by.”

Samuel rushed to her in an instant, checking her over frantically-her arms, her face, her neck. “Did he do anything? Are you okay? Did he touch you?”

Fiona stood up and did a little spin, her hospital gown flaring. “I’m fine. Relax.”

Samuel let out a long, shaky breath and pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her neck, his heart hammering against her chest. “Thank God. Thank God he didn’t take you.”

“Fiona. When you’re better… let’s go back to Denmark, okay?”

“Okay.” She smiled against his shoulder. Denmark was beautiful. Quiet. Safe. She’d loved it there.