Page 52 of Ardent Desires

How the fuck did it come to this?

I didn’t want Vanessa in my life anymore. Not like this. When she showed up last night, I knew it was a bad idea to let her stay, but I couldn’t just throw her out. She was crying, a mess, saying things that barely made sense. And now… now she’s in a hospital bed because I didn’t take her seriously enough. I should have called someone—her family, her friends, anyone who could’ve helped her better than I could.

I close my eyes, leaning back in the chair, and exhale a long, shaky breath.

This is a fucking disaster.

I don’t want to be here. I should be with Ellie. I should be texting her, asking how her morning went, seeing if she’s alright. But instead, I’m here, trapped in a mess I didn’t ask for, dealing with someone I thought I’d left behind a long time ago.

The image of Vanessa, pale and unconscious on the bathroom floor, flashes in my mind. The sight of her made my blood run cold. I don’t know what she was trying to prove, what she was thinking, or if this was some cry for help. And now, I’m stuck feeling like I’m responsible.

Fuck.

I rub a hand over my face, trying to clear my head, but it’s no use. The guilt is there, and it’s not going anywhere.

The doctor said she’d be okay. That’s what matters, right?

I pull out my phone again, tempted to text Ellie, but my mind is too jumbled to focus on anything right now. I put it away, leaning forward in the chair, my elbows resting on my knees.I hate that she has no idea what’s going on. I hate that this is happening at all.

But I can’t tell her. Not yet. This is... too much.

I glance at the clock on the wall, watching the seconds tick by in slow motion. The minutes feel like hours, and all I can do is sit here, waiting.

A nurse appears at the door, her soft voice breaking the silence. “Mr. Blackwood?”

I nod, standing up, my legs heavy as I follow her down the hallway. The hospital smells sterile, a mix of antiseptic and something I can’t place. It’s the smell of dread, of things gone wrong.

The nurse stops at a door and opens it, gesturing for me to enter. I steel myself as I step into the room, the hum of machines filling the space. Vanessa is lying there, still and fragile. Her once golden skin looks pale under the fluorescent lights, and her hands, usually manicured to perfection, are chipped and rough.

I approach her slowly, my chest tightening. This isn’t the same woman who used to walk runways, flaunting expensive lingerie like she owned the world. Now, she looks... broken. Small. Like all the vibrancy that once made her Vanessa is gone.

Her hand is lying limp on the bed, and I reach for it, gently wrapping my fingers around hers. It’s cold, almost lifeless, and I hate the way guilt surges through me, twisting in my gut like a blade.

I don’t owe her anything. We ended things long ago. But seeing her like this, knowing she’s here because she got lost in something I didn’t even know she was battling... it fucks me up.

Her breathing is shallow, her chest barely rising and falling. She’s asleep, or sedated—honestly, I’m not sure. But seeing her like this… I can’t just walk away.

I squeeze her hand gently. “Vanessa...” I whisper, even though I know she can’t hear me. My throat feels tight, and I swallow down the emotions threatening to spill over.

She doesn’t move. Just lies there, still and frail, completely unlike the woman I used to know.

I stand there for what feels like hours, but it’s probably only a few minutes. The guilt is gnawing at me, and I hate that part of me feels responsible. If I had been more careful… if I hadn’t let her stay last night… maybe this wouldn’t have happened.

Fuck.

I pull my hand away from hers, running a hand through my hair as I step back, taking one last look at her. She doesn’t stir.

After talking to the nurses, I ask them to keep me informed on her condition. They nod, assuring me they’ll call with any updates, and I turn to leave. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I glance at it, seeing Ellie’s name on the screen.

I need to see her. I need to get out of here.

Me:Heading to the office. See you soon.

I tuck the phone back into my pocket, trying to shake off the weight sitting on my chest. As I walk down the hallway, it feels like every step is heavier than the last. I just need to get back to normal—to the office, to Ellie, to anything that doesn’t involve hospitals and guilt.

But the second I step outside the hospital; I’m hit with a wall of flashes. Cameras. Shouting voices. The paparazzi.

“Mr. Blackwood! Is Vanessa Chase okay?”

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