**Chapter 61: Her Lifeline** Rowan I raked my fingers through my disheveled hair, unable to tear my gaze from Ava’s serene expression as she lay asleep before me. The remnants of tears glistened on her cheeks, stark reminders of the emotional turmoil that had engulfed her. Watching her like this shattered me. Ava, who had always been so adept at concealing her feelings, had finally let down her guard, and the rawness of it all was difficult to bear. It was as if a tidal wave of her anguish was crashing over both of us—she, unaware of the profundity of her sorrow, and me, fully conscious of how her struggle was weaving itself into the very fabric of my being. I took a seat by her side, my fingers gliding through her thick, luxurious hair. How had I never noticed just how soft it was before? The simple act of touching her felt like pure bliss. Ava sighed softly in her sleep, her features relaxing, as if the burdens of the day were fading away like mist in the morning sun. In her dreams, she found solace—no shadows to haunt her, no demons to chase her. I knew it was probably a bit unsettling, but I couldn’t help but find peace in the act of watching her sleep. It had become a ritual for me; I did it yesterday, and here I was, inexplicably drawn to do it again today. Even with the dark circles under her eyes that spoke of sleepless nights, she was breathtaking, and I couldn't fathom how I ever deluded myself into thinking she was less worthy than Emma. Planting a gentle kiss on her cheek, I stood, every fiber of my being resisting the urge to crawl under the covers beside her. There was an unexpected yearning tugging at me, a desire to be close, to offer her comfort—a stark contrast to the distance I had kept when we were married. Back then, I had shied away from her touch. Yet now, as I stood there, it was all I could think about. Reluctantly, I left her room and stepped out of her house, taking a deep breath as I slipped into my car. The temptation to turn back was strong, but I knew she wouldn’t want me there. Just because she allowed my presence didn’t mean she had forgiven me for my role in her pain. I hadn’t even asked for her forgiveness yet. I suppose I intended to—one day. But I needed her to be stable before I approached such a fragile topic. With a sigh, I pulled out my phone and dialed my twin. His voice came through on the first ring. “Meet me at the club,” I instructed before hanging up, already knowing he would comply without question. As I drove away, I cast one last glance at Ava’s house, a visual anchor that weighed heavily on me. About thirty minutes later, I arrived at one of my clubs. Entering through the VIP entrance reserved for me and a select few, I was greeted by the bouncer with a nod. The pulsing music assaulted my senses, pounding in my skull like a relentless drum. I hurried through the crowd, the bouncer parting the sea of bodies for me until I reached my private booth, where the clamor faded to a mere whisper. The bouncer took up his position, vigilantly guarding against the occasional overzealous patrons hoping for a glimpse of celebrity or free drinks. As I settled into my chair, my personal bartender slipped in with my drink, knowing my preference without needing to ask. It was a small comfort in an otherwise tumultuous evening. “What’s got you in such a foul mood?” Gabe, my twin, entered and immediately assessed my demeanor. Younger by merely three minutes, he was the extrovert, while I had always leaned toward the somber side of life. “Nothing,” I replied tersely, leaning back with a frown. But my mind was a whirlwind, swirling with the image of Ava standing perilously close to that cliff. The memory of her taking a tentative step forward had nearly cleaved my heart in two. I had never experienced fear like that—the palpable, suffocating terror that gripped me as I envisioned her life hanging by a thread. What would the world look like if she had fallen? The thought alone sent chills down my spine. She was so utterly shattered, and all I wanted was to be the one to help her pick up the pieces. “I don’t know what I would have done if I had been late,” I admitted, shaking my head slightly. It was bizarre, the bond we shared; if she had died, a part of me knew I would have withered alongside her. “You forget I know you better than you know yourself, brother,” Gabe said as he settled opposite me. “Ava,” I breathed, her name almost a prayer on my lips, laced with an anguish that cut deeper than I had anticipated. “You care about her.” “Of course I fucking care about her. She’s the mother of my son,” I shot back, frustration spilling over. But deep down, I knew there was more to it. Ava was spiraling out of control, and I felt powerless to save her. I had spent so long pushing her away that I felt lost in what she truly needed from me. “It’s more than that, big brother. You just refuse to see it,” he retorted, his voice steady as he challenged my denial. His persistent insistence grated on me like sandpaper against raw skin. I understood the link between us was profound, but I struggled to embrace the idea of love. I cared for her, undoubtedly, but love? That notion seemed much too grand. “How’s she doing?” Gabe asked, clearly not letting the conversation drop. “She’s pregnant,” I replied, my heart clenching involuntarily. His eyes widened in disbelief. “With Ethan’s baby?” “Who else would she be pregnant with?” I snapped, irritation bubbling to the surface. The knowledge had knotted something deep within me. Ethan's name lingered in the air like a bitter poison, each letter cutting through my resolve. I had consistently buried the thought of her infidelity, yet here was undeniable proof that shattered whatever semblance of peace I had managed to acquire. My instincts screamed at me to confront Ethan, to protect what felt rightfully mine. Yet I suppressed those dark urges, pushing them deep into a recess of my mind for fear of what they might awaken. “I don’t know why it hurts so damn much,” I confessed, the words escaping like a wound reopening. “I should be glad she’s moving on, but it feels like a piece of me has died.” Gabe pulled me back into the present with a question. “So what is she going to do?” “I don’t know,” I murmured, staring down at the amber liquid in my glass, the swirling depths mirroring my own tumultuous thoughts. I hesitated, debating whether to share the harrowing encounter at the cliff. But it felt wrong to weigh him down with that darkness. Ava had endured too much, and I had no intention of adding her burdens to my brother's shoulders. I made a silent vow to protect her, no matter the cost. At that moment, my bartender approached, handing me a small envelope. He departed as quickly as he had come, leaving curiosity hanging in the air. “What is it?” Gabe leaned forward, interest piqued. “I don’t know,” I replied, unfolding the note with growing unease. The words leaped out at me, chilling my very core. *(I’m not one to go after kids, so you can rest assured that I won’t go after your son. I can’t say the same for the rest of your loved ones, though. I’m coming for you, Rowan—and everyone you hold dear.)* The menacing insignia of the Reapers adorned the bottom. In an odd twist of fate, fear was oddly absent. All that reverberated through me was the reassurance that Noah would remain untouched. That was my sole concern now. I couldn’t bear to relive the dread I had experienced watching Ava on that cliff. It was time for Noah to come home. He had always been Ava’s lifeline, and now, more than ever, she needed him.