The scene in the hospital room froze: Charles reeling from Thomas's punch, the nurse standing horrified in the doorway, and Jules paralyzed by shock. But my mind was already pulling away, retreating to a memory from two years ago, the day I secured the life that Charles had just shattered.
Flashback:
I was vibrating with nervous energy, pacing the length of our small apartment living room. Charles sat on the couch, reviewing an architectural draft, but his attention was on me.
"Say it again," he smiled, though there was a familiar edge of worry tightening the corners of his eyes.
"I got the role, Charles! Me! Out of two hundred women, they chose me for the lead in The Unseen!"
I threw myself onto the couch next to him. He hugged me tightly, but the enthusiasm didn't quite reach his eyes. He was happy for me, but his body language was a contradiction. He was realizing, at that very moment, that the dream we had shared was about to change the life he had planned for us.
He pointed to the wall, where a framed sketch of a beachside house—our future dream house—hung. "It's always been your goal, sweetheart. And you deserve this. But… this means you'll be busy. Really busy. They're filming overseas for six months, right? And then the press tours, the premieres..."
He wasn't finished. "We won't have time for the firm, or for us. Your life is about to become —. I know you said everything would be fine, but—"
"Stop," I interrupted, placing my hand on his cheek. "Stop projecting the worst-case scenario. We're solid. Nothing changes our foundation. I will always have time for us, Charles. Always." I leaned in and kissed him, trying to seal the promise with my lips.
Then the calendar hit me. "Oh, God. I'm going to be gone right through your birthday. They start principal photography that week."
His face fell instantly. "My thirtieth birthday? Kylie, that's non-negotiable. That's why we planned that trip to the coast."
We argued then, a painful exchange. He accused me of choosing fame over him, and I accused him of being insecure about my success. The argument only ended when we both collapsed back into each other, drained and scared.
"I love you, Charles," I whispered into his neck.
"I love you, Kylie," he confessed, pulling me close. "More than anything. But promise me we won't lose this. We won't lose us."
I promised. And I kept that promise by dedicating every free moment, every spare dollar, to our relationship and his dreams. Including buying that damned G-Wagon. He, however, had chosen to spend his free time with Lisa.
I pushed the memory away and focused on the present. The blood on Charles's lip and the wide-eyed nurse.
"Nurse," Charles choked out, wiping the blood from his lip, his survival instinct kicking in. He pointed at Thomas. "He needs immediate medical attention. We will not have this discussion here."
Charles grabbed my arm—gently, but with absolute finality—and propelled me out of the room, slamming the door shut behind us. Jules remained inside, wide-eyed, trapped between an enraged Thomas.
Charles dragged me down the hall and shoved me into a quiet, empty waiting area near a service elevator.
"Kylie!" Charles hissed, trying to regain control. "What is this? What is going on with you? You vanished! I thought you were hurt, I was searching everywhere!"
"what is this?" I repeated, my voice hollow. I started crying, the tears blurring my vision. "You were sleeping with Lisa, Charles! You were lying in our bed, after I spent last night praying you were okay after I was almost killed, and you were with her! Why, Charles? Why her? Why now?"
He collapsed against the wall, his hands raking through his hair, no longer fighting me but fighting himself. Tears streamed down his own cheeks, utterly defeated.
"I am so sorry, Kylie. I am!" he pleaded, his voice thick with genuine, anguished remorse. "It was a mistake. A stupid, drunken, meaningless mistake. She was there, you were gone... It meant nothing, i swear! It was one time! It was because I was scared, dammit!"
"Scared?" I repeated, my voice rising in disbelief. "Scared of what? Of me loving you? Of us?"
"Scared of losing you!" he wailed, the truth finally tearing out of him. "You got The Unseen, you got famous, and suddenly you were gone for months, and I was just.... I was terrified the gap between us would get too big. I love you, and the thought of you walking away and forgetting me—it drove me mad. I ruined everything! I threw away the one thing that mattered!"
"The house, the kids, the foundation we built—I chose you over the entire world, Charles," I whispered, shaking my head. "I dedicated myself to proving our dreams were safe, that your feelings were safe. I broke my back planning that surprise for your birthday, to show you nothing changed! And you threw it away for a moment in our bed."
"No, I didn't! I love you!" he insisted, reaching out. "I love you, and I promise you, it will never happen again! I need you, Kylie. Please. Please forgive me!"
He begged me again.
And suddenly I no longer recognize the man I spent years, loving.
I lifted my hand and slapped him. The sharp crack echoed in the empty hall.
He didn't move, the shock rendering him immobile.
"Don't tell me you love me," I hissed, my own face contorted with rage and pain. "Don't you ever say that to me again."
I slapped him again, across the other cheek.
"That's for the promise you swore you'd never break," I articulated clearly, my voice shaking with finality. "And that's for making me realize that the biggest mistake I ever made was choosing you over myself."
I turned my back on him. I didn't look at his stunned, tear-streaked face. I didn't look at the small amount of blood still on his lip. I walked to the service elevator, ignoring the churning in my stomach, and stepped inside, watching him crying as the elevator door closed slowly.