**Chapter 16** Ava "I missed you, Mommy. Why didn’t you call me?" Noah's voice trembles with an undercurrent of sadness that pierces through the sterile air of the hospital room. Every fiber of my being aches to envelop him in my arms, to feel the warmth of his small body against mine, to assure him that I am still here, unchanged, and that I will never leave him motherless. "I’m so sorry, my love. I lost my phone and had to borrow your dad’s," I explain, forcing the words out as if they could fill the chasm between us. "Can we do a video call? I want to see you," he insists, his urgency evident, a plea wrapped in innocence. Drumming fingers of worry tap at my heart but I mustn’t let him see the truth of my situation. The stark reality of my hospital bed, the fragility of my life—it would shatter his world. If those who want me gone are indeed after me, I cannot put him in their crosshairs. “Not right now, sweetheart. They don’t let us have video calls here,” I lie, wrapping my words in a thick veil of falsehood. “That’s a stupid rule! Who makes such stupid rules?” He exclaims, a rush of indignation fueling his words. His frustration is palpable, a mirror of my own. I let it slide, knowing he is just a child trying to make sense of the impossibility of distance. “Noah..." “I just want to see you, Mommy. Can’t Dad make them let you? I know he can!” His voice quivers, the threat of tears hovering dangerously close to the surface, and it fractures my heart. I catch a glimpse of Rowan, his presence both a comfort and a frustration. The idiot is grinning like he just won the lottery, and I know Noah has inherited his father's confidence. One look from Rowan Woods and the world falls in line. “Not this time… How about I call you tomorrow? We can do a Skype session, okay?” “You promise?” His voice brightens with the hope that tugs at my heartstrings. “I promise.” I cling to this promise as a lifeline, planning for tomorrow—my discharge day. “Okay, Mommy. Talk to you tomorrow. I love you.” “Bye, baby. Love you too.” “Grandma wants to talk…” I hang up the phone, cutting him off mid-sentence, a tide of guilt washing over me. It might be wrong, but I couldn’t bear to hear Rowan’s name circulate in the air—this man who feels like both my salvation and my tormentor. His eyes, casting a knowing look my way, spark a resentment in me. I’ve asked him to leave repeatedly, but he stubbornly refuses to budge. Even the nurse, armed with the authority of her uniform, was threatened when she tried to eject him. Rowan has become a shadow in my life now, appearing daily and crowding the space I so desperately want to reclaim. His presence suffocates me, especially since my awakening to the chaos of that day when Emma and Travis invaded my room without warning. **Three Days Earlier** "Your little trick won’t work, Ava." Emma’s voice drips with venom as soon as Travis steps out of the room, leaving me vulnerable to her ire. "What the hell are you talking about?" My patience evaporates in an instant. I am too weak, too frail, to deal with her and her nonsense. "This little accident of yours, I’m sure you orchestrated it to grab Rowan’s attention. But I’m telling you, I won’t let you near him,” she sneers, her eyes gleaming with malice. A laugh escapes me, against my better judgment, pain radiating from my injured ribs with the motion. “Let me get this straight? You think I planned my car to explode, leading to a hospital stay, in the hopes of winning Rowan’s heart?” How delusional can one person be? The family drama was already thickened with tension, but this? This was priceless. “Of course! I mean, why would anyone want to kill you? What do they gain? Rowan doesn’t love you; he wouldn't care less if you lived or died. You’re insignificant—your death would mean nothing to us,” she spits, her scorn laced with spite. At that moment, I want nothing more than to knock that smirk off her face. “So you came here just to hurl insults, is that it, Emma? You’re kicking me while I’m down?” I don’t want to ponder how she even got here in the first place—who let her in? I want her gone. “I’m just stating facts. I hope that gang doesn’t kill you first; I want you to witness as I strip everything away from you, just like you did to me—starting with your son. He will soon be calling me Mom.” My blood boils at the mention of Noah. No one dares call him that but me. “You’re a nasty piece of work, Emma. But here’s the truth: Noah will never see you as his mother. Don’t you recall how he ignored you at the airport? He’s nothing to you, and even if you and Rowan marry, you will still be nothing.” Her expression contorts with rage, the victorious attitude from moments before vanishing into thin air. “That’s fine… as long as it's my name Rowan calls out at night. I’ll make sure he fills me with his child, and soon enough, you’ll be forgotten. You know he’s never loved you; every time he touched you, he was probably thinking of me. How many times has he called my name while you were in bed?” I tune her out, pinpricks of pain—a mixture of hurtful truths and venom—cutting through me as red haze takes over my vision. She dares to call Noah a brat. That’s the final straw. With a surge of anger, I grab the vase of flowers beside me, hurling it at her. Startled, she ducks just in time, the vase shattering against the wall as Travis enters the room amid the chaos. "Are you crazy?!" Emma screams, her voice high-pitched with disbelief. “Both of you, OUT! Get out of my room now!” I roar back, my voice cracking at the last word. Travis surveys the scene, concern etched across his features. "Ava, what’s going on?" he asks gently, and I find that I can’t bear his softness; the memories of being nothing but a second choice in his eyes slide like daggers into my heart. “Why don’t you ask your fucking sister?” I shoot back, my ire igniting like a flame. The nurse strides in, panic visible on her face as she assesses the situation. “I’m going to need you both to leave. Your presence is clearly impacting her health, and she shouldn't be under any stress,” she asserts firmly. “She’s my sister! You can’t just kick me out!” Travis snarls, the protective sentiment ill-placed, and I scoff at his claim. Since when has he cared? “I’ll call security if you don’t clear out,” the nurse warns, her voice a whip crack of authority as her patience thins. “Ava, please,” he begs, desperation lacing his tone, and yet I feel nothing. Everything they took from me—my love, my trust, my time—has drained me of the will to fight. I’m empty now, a shell where warmth once resided. “Just leave, Travis. And make sure you and Emma keep your distance.” With that, I turn away, curling inward on myself, shutting my eyes to block them out. There’s a back-and-forth exchange between the nurse and Travis, but I drift off, momentarily free from pain, until Ethan brightens my spirits with unexpected humor, lifting the shadows from my heart for just a fleeting moment. “What did you say?” Rowan’s voice snaps me back to the present. “I asked if you’re ready to leave,” he repeats, a hint of impatience creeping in. I linger for a moment, grappling with Emma’s words. Would Rowan truly abandon Noah? Deep down, I want to believe he wouldn’t, but doubt festers in the pit of my stomach. Emma has always been significant in Rowan’s life; knowing this gnaws away at my faith. “What are you doing here, Rowan?” I ask, casting aside the confession sitting heavy on my tongue. “What do you mean?” His frown deepens, confusion written all over his face. “We both know I’m not your favorite person. So, what in the world brings you here? Shouldn’t you be at home with Emma, basking in your reunion?” I retort bitterly, my words sharp with the sting of truth. He sighs, irritation flashing through his features. “You’re looking for a fight, and I’m not giving you one. Let’s get you discharged, and then we can talk about what’s next.” “I don’t need help from a man who detests me! Just go, Rowan—you would rather be anywhere else.” “Really? You don’t need my help? Who do you plan on calling to check you out? You have no friends, Ava,” he snaps, his granite stare piercing through me. “Ethan. Ethan can take me home,” I assert. It’s true; I feel like a lifeline might be found in him, but I can’t say that to Rowan. Rowan’s jaw tightens, his body rigid as he clenches his fists in response. “Over my dead body,” he growls. “You have two choices: either I take you home, or you spend another few days here; there’s no way that bastard is taking you.” Silently seething, I try weighing his words. He was so keen to be rid of me—why is he now clinging on like a parasite? I don’t want to spark a feud over Emma by inadvertently leading him to think I’m using my unfortunate situation to manipulate him. “Speaking of which, what happened between you and Emma on the day of your attack?” “I'm sure she’s filled you in,” I retort, determination coursing through me like fire as guilt flickers in his eyes. "I want to hear your side," he insists, stepping closer but this time I bolt for the bathroom. "There’s no need; we know you’ll take her side as always," I mutter before shutting the door, leaving him on the other side. The effort to dress myself exhausts me; even the simplest task feels like climbing a mountain. I lean against the wall for support as I emerge, spotting the wheelchair the nurse left for me. Rowan attempts to reach for me, but I shake off his hand, wanting no part of his assistance. Settling into the chair, I lift my duffel bag onto my lap, wanting nothing more than to escape this suffocating reality. “Can we just get going? The sooner we’re apart, the better,” I sigh, weariness draping over me like a heavy blanket. He exhales, conceding, and starts to wheel me out. The world rushes past in a blur as fatigue pulls heavily at my eyelids. Before long, I slip into a deep slumber. When I awaken, it's to find myself cradled in Rowan’s arms, ascending the familiar staircase to his home. "What are you doing?" My voice comes out groggy, a slur from slumber. “Taking you to bed; you fell asleep before we reached the car,” he replies, his tone a gentle rumble that wraps around me like a cozy blanket. The warmth of his body envelops me, and the scent of him draws me in like a moth to the flame. I nestle closer, surrendering to the softness of this moment, letting out a soft chuckle as fatigue begins to wash over me once again. He lays me down gently, then crawls into bed beside me. I instinctively nestle my head against his chest, his arms wrapping possessively around my waist, pulling me into his warmth. As I drift back into sleep, I can't help but marvel at how right it feels. In this beautiful dream, Rowan holds me close, and I am exactly where I’ve always longed to be—in his arms.