Chapter 2 - Shadows of the PastBy midnight, Lily had finally drifted into an exhausted sleep, regulated by a steady hiss of oxygen and intravenous medication.
Ethan sat in the uncomfortable vinyl armchair beside the bed, his laptop open on his knees, though he hadn't typed a single word in two hours. His phone buzzed incessantly in his pocket—emails from his chief operating officer, missed calls from board members demanding answers about the upcoming multi-million-dollar merger.
He silenced the phone and tossed it onto the bedside table. None of it mattered.
A soft knock sounded at the door.
Ethan looked up, expecting a nurse. Instead, Hannah slipped into the room, her hair pulled back into a messy bun, a stethoscope draped loosely around her neck. She looked tired, the faint shadows under her hazel eyes betraying the brutal hours of a pediatric resident-turned-attending.
"She's stable," Hannah whispered, keeping her voice low as she stepped toward the bed and checked the monitor.
"Thank you," Ethan said, standing up.
Hannah didn't look at him immediately. She adjusted Lily's blanket, her fingers brushing gently against the child's strawberry-blond hair with an instinctive tenderness that squeezed Ethan's heart.
"She has your eyes," Hannah murmured softly.
"And your stubbornness," Ethan replied, a sad, humorless smile touching his lips. "She argued with the nurse about taking her temperature for twenty minutes."
Hannah finally raised her eyes to meet his. The professional armor slipped, if only by a fraction. "You stayed in Chicago."
"I built my company here," Ethan said, taking a cautious step forward. "Caldwell Global. But I never left the past behind, Hannah. I searched for you for years. After you transferred to Boston..."
"You made your choice clear, Ethan," she cut him off, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "You packed my bags with your silence. You told me my dreams were getting in the way of your grand empire."
"That's not what happened—"
"Don't," she hissed, stepping back as if his proximity burned her. "Don't rewrite history to make yourself feel better. I came to Chicago six years ago because I wanted to heal broken things. Little did I know, tonight I'd be forced to look at the biggest wreckage you left behind."
Before Ethan could answer, the door swung open.
A tall, broad-shouldered man in a tailored grey suit stepped into the room, holding a bag of take-out coffee and a bag of pastries.
May you like
"Hah? I figured you could use caffeine—" The man stopped, his dark eyes locking onto Ethan. The easy smile vanished from his face. "Oh. I'm sorry. Am I interrupting?"
Ethan stared at the stranger, a sudden, suffocating wave of possessive fury crashing over him. Who was this man, walking into Hannah's life with such familiar ease?
