Sweet Hatred
Chapter 157: Grief

Chapter 157: Grief

I clenched the steering wheel again until my fingers burned. But it didn’t stop the next torture.

Ivan. His smile when he teased me. His warmth when I didn’t want it. The quiet promise we made to each other that never got spoken out loud.

I’d protect you. I swear. And I failed. God, I fucking failed.

I used to think it was all my father’s fault. But sitting there, I wasn’t so sure anymore. Maybe it was me. Maybe I was the curse. The blood-born disease. The unfortunate son of a man who should’ve never had children. Maybe I was a reminder that monsters breed more monsters.

And what terrified me the most... was that deep down, I knew I was his. His son. His mirror.

I hadn’t healed. Not even close. I’d buried it. Locked it in the darkest parts of myself and slapped on a suit and built a kingdom of concrete and silence to hide inside.

But it was cracking. And I was spiraling. Fast.

And then—

Her.

Aria.

Her name hit my chest like a breath of air in a drowning man’s lungs. I thought of her face. Pale. So fucking pale.

I thought of how her voice trembled when she spoke about her mother, how her eyes looked when she wasn’t pretending to be okay.

God.

She was the only thing holding me together. The only softness I had. The only warmth I’d ever let stay.

She was the one who made me sleep without waking up in sweat and screams. She was the reason I wasn’t already dead.

And I knew, right then, that I needed her more than she’d ever need me.

She didn’t even know it. But she was the closest thing I had to family. To home. And she was about to lose hers.

I pressed my forehead to the steering wheel, eyes burning, and whispered something I hadn’t said in a long time.

"Please, not her too."

...

The rain hadn’t let up. It followed me all the way to the hospital like it knew I deserved to be soaked in it. I walked through the lobby dripping, my clothes plastered to me, but I didn’t feel the cold or the stares as I walked past.

I felt nothing. Except the ache.

I didn’t ask for directions. I already knew the room. I’d made damn sure her name was on every priority list they had.

When I got there, I didn’t go in.

I stood just outside the door, watching through the sliver of glass. Aria was curled up in the corner of the cot, knees drawn, hair falling in front of her face like a curtain. Her body barely moved. Like she wasn’t even breathing.

And beside her, Sarah. Holding her. Whispering something in her ear. Running her fingers through Aria’s hair like she was trying to stitch her back together.

It should’ve been me.

But I knew if I stepped in now—if I let her see me like this—I’d make it worse. My grief would pour into hers. And she didn’t need more pain.

So I stepped back.

I walked to the front desk and asked for a blanket. Then food. Then water. Then a nurse. I slipped my card into the admin’s hand and told them to prepare a separate bed for Aria—hell, even a private room if they could manage it. I didn’t care what it cost. I just wanted her to have something soft. Something warm.

Something I couldn’t give her right now.

I asked the nurse to bring her the blanket. "Don’t say anything unnecessary," I said. "Just... make sure she’s comfortable."

Then I left.

Because how would I tell her that I wanted her all to myself and I wished she didn’t need anybody else, that I was nothing but a selfish man.

....

I didn’t know where I was driving. My hands just moved. My brain had gone quiet, like the silence before a scream.

But somehow, I ended up at the gates of the cemetery. The rain hadn’t stopped. If anything, it poured harder, like the sky was grieving too.

I walked in soaked. The mud pulled at my shoes with every step. Lightning flashed somewhere behind me, but I didn’t flinch. I kept walking.

Until I reached her.

The tombstone was simple. Elegant. Just her name and the years she existed. Katherine Marie Roman.

My mother.

I stood there, water dripping from my hair, from my lashes, from my fingertips. My breath fogged in the cold air, but my throat was dry.

"I’m sorry."

My voice cracked the moment it came out.

"I’m sorry he was the one you married. I’m sorry he touched you. I’m sorry he got to be your husband. That he ruined everything good about you."

I dropped to my knees in front of her grave, the cold soaking through my bones, but I didn’t care.

"I’m sorry you had me. That you died loving his child. That you had to look at my face and see him every day."

I swallowed the sob that tried to crawl out.

"I used to think... maybe if I’d never been born, you could’ve left. Started over. Been free."

The ache in my chest worsened, knocking the air out of me.

"But you didn’t leave."

My voice broke again. "Why didn’t you leave? Why did you stay? Why did you chase him like he was capable of loving anyone but himself?"

The rain beat down harder. My fingers dug into the wet ground, trembling.

"You let him break you. And I never understood why."

My voice cracked again.

"And now it’s happening again. I’m watching the only good thing in my life suffer, and I don’t to how to stop it. I keep telling myself I’m helping her. That I’m protecting her. But the truth is... I’m afraid. That if I get too close, I’ll destroy her too."

I looked down at the grave. Rain dripping off my jaw, lips trembling.

"I miss you," I whispered. "And I’m so tired. I’m so fucking tired."

I let the silence sit heavy. My hands were shaking now, but I didn’t care. I’d let the rain drown me, let the earth swallow me whole.

At least then, I’d stop hurting again.

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