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Ava swallowed.

Her throat hurt. Everything did.

"You still think he’s hiding something?" Caleb asked.

Ava hesitated.

"I know he is," she said.

“But right now, I don’t care what it is. I just want her to be okay.”

And yet, a part of her still burned. With suspicion. With confusion. With an anger that hadn’t found its shape yet—but it was coming.

Nate stood in the hallway just outside their rooms, listening. He didn’t mean to—he hadn’t even meant to come home. But he couldn’t face Camille. Not tonight. Not after the way Lila had looked at him in that sterile white room—so full of peace it broke him.

He had destroyed her.

And they were still trying to protect him from the weight of what he’d done.

His children were grieving something they couldn’t name yet. And all he could do was stand here, like a coward, hoping to find redemption in the echo of their pain.

He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to the wall. The guilt was crawling now—coiling in his chest like a sickness of its own.

He should be with Lila. He should have always been with Lila.

But he wasn’t. Not when it mattered.

Nate took a deep breath and backed away from the door. He wanted to go into their rooms, to sit beside them, to hold his son and daughter and promise them the things he’d failed to give.

But what good were promises from a liar?

Instead, he walked downstairs, poured a glass of something strong, and sat in the dark.

Because this wasn’t grief.

It was reckoning.

Chapter 34

What We Chose...

Camille opened the door with that familiar smile—the one she always wore just for him. Silk robe, tousled hair, bare legs beneath the hem. She was already playing the part.

“Nate,” she said, eyes lighting up.

“I thought you weren’t coming tonight.”

“I wasn’t,” he said quietly, stepping inside.

“I shouldn’t be here.”

Camille closed the door behind him with a soft click, ignoring the sharpness in his voice.

“But you are.” She brushed a hand across his chest.

“Because you always come back to me.”

He flinched at her touch.