Ethan’s outburst must’ve attracted the medical staff, because next thing I knew, they were hauling me back inside. He shot me a look that could melt steel, slamming the window shut. For the first time in ages, he was quiet. His hands were shaking, his knuckles bruised and bloodied.
“Vanessa,” he muttered, voice barely above a whisper, messy hair falling over his eyes. “I don’t hate you as much as you think.”
For a second, I almost thought I heard something resembling regret in his voice. But it vanished as fast as it came. He straightened up, crossed his arms, and glared at me like he didn’t just show a crack in his armor.
“So what’s this? A little stunt for attention?” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I’m telling you, my brother doesn’t fall for this ‘hard-to-get’ crap. Keep this up, and you’ll just push him farther away.”
He rambled on, lost in his own world, while the nurses checked the equipment. I didn’t waste any time. I slid back toward the window, trying to make another run for it. But the moment my foot hit the ledge, his hand shot out like a vice, yanking me back with surprising force.
After the second time he stopped me, it seemed to click—he finally realized I wasn’t playing games. He moved me further away from the window, keeping me within arm’s reach. His tone softened, unexpectedly gentle.
“Vanessa, don’t do this. My brother’s not the only man in the world. Why are you so obsessed with him?” he said quietly, his voice almost gentle now.
He coughed awkwardly, his cheeks tinged pink as he shifted uncomfortably. “Look, I’m not gonna sugarcoat it. He’s not the greatest husband. If you have to, divorce him. He’s not worth dying for. And who knows? Maybe there’s someone else out there who’s been quietly in love with you all this time, and you’ve never even noticed.”
