Chapter 45
The steady hum of monitors and the faint aroma of antiseptic filled the hospital room, but Emma barely noticed. Her eyes were fixed on the legal documents spread out before her, yet her mind was miles away, tangled in the revelations she’d uncovered about Alex and Buenos Aires. The grainy images of him, bloodied and desperate, helping those workers and quietly supporting the families for years—it all chipped away at the walls she’d built around her heart.
She was still furious with him, still hurt by the lies and the distance he had forced between them. But try as she might, she couldn’t hate him.
Her hand instinctively moved to her belly, a protective gesture that had become second nature. She thought about the twins, about the life she was fighting so hard to build for them, and how Alex’s actions—misguided as they were—had always been about protecting her, even if it had meant sacrificing himself.
Her phone buzzed on the table, the screen lighting up with a name she wasn’t prepared to see: Alex Barrett.
Emma froze. For a moment, she considered letting it go to voicemail. But something stopped her. Her thumb hovered over the screen before she swiped to answer.
“Alex,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt.
“Emma,” he replied, his tone low and uncertain. There was a rawness in his voice that caught her off guard. “Can we meet? I need to see you.”
Her instinct was to refuse. Too much had happened. Too many wounds were still raw. But there was something in his voice—an edge of vulnerability she hadn’t heard in years. It pulled at her despite herself.
“Why?” she asked, her tone cautious.
“There are things I need to say,” Alex said. “Things I should’ve said a long time ago.”
Emma frowned, her fingers tightening around the phone. “You can say them now.”
“Not like this,” he insisted. “Please, Emma. Just one conversation. That’s all I’m asking.”
She sighed, torn between reason and the inexplicable pull in her chest. Against her better judgment, she relented. “Fine. But make it quick, Alex. I don’t have time for games.”
“Thank you,” he said softly, relief threading through his words.
As the call ended, Emma set the phone down, her mind racing. She wasn’t sure what she wanted from this meeting—or what she was willing to hear. But one thing was certain: Alex Barrett still had a hold on her heart, no matter how hard she tried to deny it.
The hospital’s private courtyard was quiet when Alex arrived, the evening air cool and crisp. Emma stood by a stone bench, her arms crossed over her chest, her expression unreadable.
As Alex approached the courtyard where Emma waited, a storm of emotions churned inside him. He paused for a moment, taking in the sight of her. She stood tall, her posture composed, but the set of her jaw and the flicker in her eyes betrayed the wariness she felt. It was the same guarded expression she’d worn in every interaction since he’d pushed her away—a look that told him how deeply he had hurt her.
“Thank you for meeting me,” Alex began, his voice tentative as he stepped closer.
Emma didn’t soften. Her arms crossed over her chest, and her tone was clipped. “Say what you need to say, Alex. I don’t have all day.”
Alex drew a deep breath, bracing himself. “I know I’ve made mistakes. Big ones. I know I hurt you, Emma, by shutting you out, by pushing you away. And I know saying I’m sorry isn’t enough, but I need you to know something—it was never because I stopped loving you.”
Emma’s brow furrowed, her lips pressing into a thin line as her anger simmered just beneath the surface.
“I thought I was protecting you,” Alex continued, his voice thick with regret. “Protecting you and our child from Luka, from everything he could do to you. I thought keeping my distance would keep you safe. But I was wrong.”
Emma’s breath caught at the mention of the child—though it wasn’t just one child, as Alex still didn’t know about the twins.
She shook her head, her voice trembling with emotion. “You thought pushing me away was for my own good? Is that supposed to make me feel better, Alex? You didn’t just shut me out—you shattered everything we built. Everything I believed in.”
“I know,” Alex replied softly, his voice thick with regret. “I know I destroyed us. But I’m here now because I can’t keep pretending that staying away was the right thing. I love you, Emma. I always have. And I want us to try again. For us. For the future we could still have together.”
Emma’s heart twisted painfully at his words. She wanted to believe him, to feel the sincerity she knew was buried somewhere in his tone, but the anger burned hotter. “Do you really think you can just show up and say you love me, and that fixes everything?” she snapped. Her voice rose, trembling with the weight of all the pain she’d carried. “Do you think I can forget the nights I begged you to let me in? The pain of you turning your back on me when I needed you most?”
Alex flinched as though she’d physically struck him. “I know I don’t deserve forgiveness. But I’m trying, Emma. I’m trying to fix what I broke.”
“Fix what you broke?” Emma’s eyes flashed with anger. “Is that what this is? Some last-ditch effort because you’re afraid of losing control? Because you think I’ll forgive you if you just confess your love?”
Alex’s expression faltered, confusion clouding his features. “Losing control? Emma, what are you talking about?”
Her voice rose, trembling with emotion. “Don’t lie to me, Alex. Don’t act like you didn’t come here because you’re afraid—afraid of what I might do with the truth about Buenos Aires.”
His eyes widened in realization, and he took a step closer, his voice low and urgent. “Emma, no. I didn’t come here because of that. I didn’t even know you knew about Buenos Aires.”
Her anger faltered, giving way to uncertainty. “Then why now, Alex? Why not weeks ago, when I needed you the most?”
“Because I was a coward,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “I was afraid of failing you again. Afraid of losing you. I thought pushing you away would protect you. I thought it was the right thing to do, but all it did was hurt you—hurt us. And now, I’m here because I can’t stand to lose you forever.”
Emma stared at him, her chest heaving with the storm of emotions threatening to overtake her. Silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating, as his words hung in the air.
Finally, she spoke, her voice cold but trembling. “It’s too late, Alex.”
His heart dropped at her words, the finality in her tone slicing through him. “Emma, please—don’t do this,” he said, his voice filled with desperation.
“No,” she said firmly, shaking her head. “You made your choice, Alex. You chose to walk away when I needed you the most. Now I’m making mine.”
She turned, her steps deliberate as she moved toward the courtyard gate. Alex stood frozen, his hands clenched at his sides, his mind racing for something—anything—that could stop her.
“Emma, please—” he called out, his voice cracking with raw emotion.
She paused, her back still to him, her shoulders tense. For a moment, Alex thought she might turn around, that he might still have a chance to fix what he had broken.
But when she finally spoke, her voice was steady, tinged with quiet resolve. “Goodbye, Alex.”
