Chapter 21

The sterile hum of machines filled the hospital room. The rhythmic beep of a heart monitor was the only sound until Mrs. Hale stirred, her eyelids fluttering open slowly.

Alex stood at her bedside, weary, eyes red from exhaustion and regret.

“Mom,” he whispered, moving closer. “You’re awake.”

She blinked slowly, her gaze sharpening when it landed on him.

“I’m… I’m so sorry,” Alex murmured, reaching for her hand. “I didn’t mean for things to go this far. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Mrs. Hale pulled her hand away gently.

“You didn’t just hurt me,” she said, her voice hoarse but cold. “You hurt her. Again and again.”

Alex’s throat tightened. “I know. That’s why I need your help. I want to fix it–get her back.”

Mrs. Hale shook her head. “You don’t deserve her.”

“Mom–”

“No,” she snapped, eyes narrowing. “You came here because you saw her happy. Because you couldn’t stand the idea that she moved on. You didn’t come out of love. You came out of pride.”

Alex clenched his jaw. “I still love her.”

“But you never protected her,” she said. “You humiliated her. Let your mistress and your sister destroy her. You didn’t even flinch.”

Alex looked away, ashamed.

“And now,” she continued, “you’re furious because I helped her. Because I arranged for her to meet Parker.”

Alex turned sharply. “That was you?”

“Yes. Me. Your rival, the one you’ve hated since college–because I knew he would treat her better. Because he already did.”

Alex’s fists tightened at his sides.

Mrs. Hale closed her eyes. “Let her go, Alex. It’s the only decent thing left you can do.”

But he couldn’t.

The next morning, Alex launched every effort he could think of. He called florists, ordered arrangements with messages of forgiveness. Sent her favorite chocolates, perfumes, even a hand-written letter with ink-stained hands.

Lindsey, please. I was a fool. I let you slip away once. I can’t live with knowing I did it again. I’m sorry for everything. Just give me one moment, one chance to tell you how much I regret it.

He waited outside her hotel with an umbrella when it rained, held onto a bouquet of white tulips until his knuckles went numb from the cold.

Nothing.

He left voicemails–soft, pleading, cracking. Nothing.

4:37 pm DDXX.

He handed a letter to the front desk, watched the clerk take it with a disinterested nod, then sat in the lobby for hours, hoping, waiting, wishing.

But Lindsey never came.

Not to talk. Not to yell. Not even to acknowledge him.

Until one night–he saw her.

Alex stood in the hallway of the boutique hotel, clutching a final note in trembling fingers when he spotted her door slightly ajar. Hope stirred in his chest as he stepped forward.

And then he heard it.

A low gasp.

A soft moan.

His name–no, not his.

“Parker…”

Alex froze.

He could hear her breath catch, Parker’s voice murmuring something indecipherable, intimate, deep. The rustle of bedsheets. The rhythm of a body moving against another.

He stood there, motionless. Not knocking. Not breathing.

Then–

“Lindsey…”

The sound of her moan–soft, real, aching with pleasure–echoed through the silence like a dagger.

And Alex knew.

She was gone.

Not physically. Not temporarily.

Gone in every way that mattered.

His hand slipped from the doorframe.

The final letter crumpled in his fist.

And for the first time, Alex Hale finally realized–

He had lost her.

Forever.

4:37 pm

Alex had lost his grip.