Hello, Ex! I Finally Found My Worth! - Chapter 109

Chapter 109: Shy And Ashamed

The steady rhythm of the heart monitor filled the quiet hospital room, a soft but relentless reminder of the fragile life lying on the bed.

Alex stood near the window, arms crossed tightly over his chest, staring out without really seeing the view beyond the glass. His gaze drifted back to Emma, her face pale against the stark white of the pillow, her chest rising and falling with each measured breath.

She was indeed alive and safe. Yet so vulnerable. So vulnerable that anyone could enter there and attempt to kill her again and she wouldn’t even fight back. He wasn’t going to leave her again for a moment. He told himself.

His eyes traced the soft curves of her face, the faint bruise marring her temple, the bandage wrapped around her wrist where the rope had bitten into her skin.

Seeing her like this—so broken, so still—made something ache deep in his chest, a tight, unbearable pressure that refused to ease.

He had almost lost her just like he had lost Sofia only this time it was because of people he regarded as family.

The thought struck hard, cold and unforgiving. He clenched his jaw, trying to shake it off, but the image of her tied to that chair, Vanessa standing over her, haunted him.

He hadn’t seen it first hand but the bruises on her wrist made it easy to picture. It played on repeat, tormenting him. The thought of how close she’d come to being taken from him forever—it was suffocating.

All because of what? People he considered family? All for what? For some stupid revenge over a crime they committed themselves and refused to accept.

And then there was Claire. How could she even dream of saying something like that him after everything?

“I think we should forgive Jake.”

Her voice echoed in his mind, gentle yet firm, asking him for something he wasn’t sure he could give. How could he? Was all this just so easy to forgive?

Forgive Jake? Margaret? After everything? Not just for the defamation of character against Emma but also their attempt to kill her? What about the child she lost because of Jake’s heartlessness? It was all too much.

His fingers curled into fists, the anger simmering just beneath the surface.

Forgive the people who had nearly cost him Emma’s life? Forgive the betrayal, the recklessness, the selfishness that had put her in danger?

He wanted to. God, he wanted to believe people could change. That redemption was possible. But the memory of Emma, pale and trembling, barely conscious in his arms, made forgiveness feel… impossible.

He exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair as he turned back toward her.

Jake had been his family. Margaret too. And Claire was right—they were family, bound by paper and years of shared history. Family meant forgiveness, didn’t it? No matter the mistakes? No matter the pain?

But the weight pressing down on him now wasn’t just about betrayal.

It was fear.

The fear of losing Emma. The woman who had become the very air he breathed. What if he forgave them and they put her life in jeopardy again?

He had kept his heart guarded for so long, refusing to let anyone in fully, terrified of being hurt again. And yet, somehow, Emma had broken through those defenses—without even trying.

She’d shown up in his life like a force of nature, with her kindness, her quiet strength, her stubbornness. Her vulnerability. She had made him feel again. Hope again. Care again and Love again.

And now, the thought of losing her—of watching her slip away because of the actions of those who were supposed to care—felt unbearable.

His gaze softened as he moved closer to her bedside. He reached out, gently taking her hand in his, careful not to disturb the IV taped to her skin.

“I’m so sorry, Em,” he whispered, his voice raw. “I should’ve protected you better. I should’ve seen this coming.”

Her hand remained limp in his, but he didn’t let go.

How could he ever forgive Jake and Margaret when the pain was still so fresh? When every time he closed his eyes, he saw Emma hurt, suffering—because of them?

He swallowed hard, closing his eyes briefly.

Maybe, one day, he could forgive. Maybe. But right now?

Not when the woman he loved was lying here, broken. Not when the fear still gripped his chest so tightly it hurt to breathe.

Not when the only thing that mattered was making sure Emma woke up. Safe. Alive.

He lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss against her knuckles, his voice breaking as he whispered, “I’ll let them hurt you again.””

Outside, the quiet hum of the hospital filled the hallway, the scent of antiseptic lingering in the air.

After the conversation with Chris, Claire sat stiffly in one of the chairs outside Emma’s ward, arms crossed over her chest, unable to sit still.

Chris was next to her, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, watching her out of the corner of his eye. Neither spoke, both lost in their own thoughts—until the sound of hurried footsteps echoed toward them.

A young woman, approached, her face pale with worry. She clutched her purse tightly, her eyes scanning the hallway before stopping in front of them.

“Um… I’m Ivy,” she said, her voice breathless but gentle. “I’m Emma’s friend. The one who’s been calling her phone.”

Claire stood, offering a small, tired smile as she extended her hand. “I’m Claire. Emma’s friend too… and Alex’s sister.”

Ivy nodded, her gaze flicking between them. “Is she—? How is she?”

Chris pushed off the wall and straightened. “She’s stable. The doctors are still keeping an eye on her, but she hasn’t woken up yet.”

Ivy’s expression crumpled slightly, but she composed herself quickly. “Can I see her?”

Claire exchanged a glance with Chris, then nodded. “Of course. Come on.”

They led her into the ward, the beeping of the heart monitor greeting them as they entered the softly lit room.

Alex was still there, sitting in the chair beside the hospital bed, his fingers gently curled around Emma’s hand, as if letting go would shatter the fragile peace in the room. His thumb traced soothing circles along her skin, his gaze fixed on her face, searching—hoping.

He didn’t even notice their presence at first. It was as though nothing else existed beyond Emma.

Ivy hesitated, her heart twisting at the sight. She took a step forward, then another, until she was close enough for Alex to sense her presence.

He finally looked up, his face drawn with exhaustion, his eyes bloodshot and clouded with worry.

“You’re Ivy?” he asked softly since she didn’t dress like a nurse and they were expecting Emma’s friend, Ivy.

She nodded and offered a weak smile. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve realized… I should’ve been there for her.”

Alex shook his head firmly. “You couldn’t have known. None of us did.” His voice was rough, strained with unshed emotions. “It’s not your fault.”

Ivy swallowed hard, blinking back tears as her gaze dropped to Emma, so still and pale. “I—”

“It’s okay,” Alex whispered, his hand tightening around Emma’s.

Silence stretched between them for a moment before Ivy wiped her face and opened her bag pulling out three small containers.

She had figured that Alex would be there since Claire was and Emma also would need food hence she had brought three lunchbox.

“I brought food. From my restaurant. I figured… you all probably haven’t eaten.”

Claire’s stomach tightened, the realization hitting her. They hadn’t eaten since morning—none of them.

“Thank you,” Claire said softly, accepting the containers. Chris moved closer to help, the tension in his face easing just a little.

But Alex didn’t move. Though he was still mad at Claire, he couldn’t let it show, not when his priority was to see Emma wake up.

“Alex, you need to eat too,” Claire urged gently despite the tension between them.

He shook his head without looking up. “I’ll eat when she wakes up.” His voice was hoarse, final.

No one argued.

What they didn’t know—what none of them could have suspected—was that Emma was awake.

Barely.

She lay still, eyes closed, heart thudding quietly as their voices filled the room. Her head ached, her body weak, but she could hear them.

Feel Alex’s warm hand wrapped around hers. Hear his voice, thick with emotion, whispering words he thought she couldn’t hear.

She could feel his love and she wanted to open her eyes and make his worry go away. But she couldn’t.

Not because she didn’t want it—oh, how she wanted it—but because she didn’t know how to face him now.

She had confessed in the ambulance, vulnerable, emotional, unsure if she would make it. But now? Now, the weight of those words hung heavy on her chest, pressing into her.

How was she supposed to face him now? She was shy and ashamed but more than that, she didn’t know how she could tell everyone she had been the one to confess her feelings first.