---- Chapter 18 Khloe Rojas POV: My voice was back. The therapist gave me the all-clear that afternoon. "The synthetic cords have fully integrated," she said, smiling. "Your voice is strong. Just... take it easy for a few days. No shouting." | walked out of the hospital feeling lighter than | had in years. The first person | wanted to talk to was Gordon. Really talk to him, without a pen or my hands. | found him waiting for me, his face anxious. "How did it go?" "It went well," | said, the words feeling new and wonderful in my mouth. "I can talk again." His face broke into a wide, beautiful smile. "That's... that's amazing, Khloe." We walked back to the compound, and | couldn't stop talking. | told him about my childhood, about my love for architecture, about my brother. | told him everything, except the darkest parts, the parts that still had Julian's name written all over them. He listened patiently, his eyes never leaving my face. "Let me take you out," he said suddenly. "To celebrate. There's a little cafe in the village that has the best coffee." ---- The cafe was a small, quiet oasis in the middle of the chaos. We sat at a small table, the late afternoon sun warming our faces. Gordon disappeared for a moment and came back holding a single, perfect red rose he must have bought from a street vendor. "To the first of many conversations," he said, handing it to me. | laughed, a real, happy sound. My cheeks felt flushed. | was about to thank him when a shadow fell over our table. It was Julian. He looked terrible. He was gaunt, his eyes bloodshot and haunted. He stared at the rose in my hand, and then at me, his expression a twisted mask of pain and rage. "What do you think you're doing with him?" he snarled, his voice raw. He snatched the rose from my hand and threw it on the ground, crushing it under his heel. "You're mine, Khloe. You will always be mine. Did you forget that?" Something inside me, the last fragile thread of patience, of pity, of anything other than contempt, snapped. | stood up and slapped him. Hard. "l am not yours," | said, my voice shaking with a fury | hadn't felt since the day Leo died. "| was never yours. | was my own person, and you destroyed her." | pointed a trembling finger at his chest. "You killed my ---- brother. You tortured me. You broke my body. You stole my voice. You offered me up to die. Loving you is the single greatest regret of my life." His face crumpled. He looked like a man who had been physically struck. "Khloe... no... please..." "Get away from me," | said, my voice dropping to a deadly whisper. "And if you ever come near me or Gordon again, | swear to you, the next time you see me will be when I'm testifying at your trial." Gordon stepped forward and physically pulled a stunned, broken Julian away. | looked down at the crushed rose on the ground, a stupid, simple thing, and my eyes filled with tears. | wasn't crying for the rose. | was crying for the beautiful, hopeful afternoon he had just destroyed Gordon came back and gently took my hand. "Are you okay?" "I'm fine," | said, wiping my eyes. He looked at me, his gaze so full of warmth and understanding it made my throat ache. He slowly leaned in and kissed me. It wasn't a passionate, desperate kiss like Julian's had always been. It was gentle. It was tender. It was a question, and a promise. When he pulled away, | looked at him, truly looked at him, and saw the man who had been quietly standing by my side, ---- waiting for me to heal. "Why?" | whispered. "Why me?" He smiled, a sad, gentle smile. "I've been in love with you since we were twenty years old, Khloe Rojas," he confessed. "| used to watch you in the library, so focused, so brilliant. | was too shy to ever say anything. Then | heard you were engaged to Julian Gallegos, and | figured I'd lost my chance." He looked away for a moment, his jaw tightening. "| followed your career over the years. | saw what he did to you. | was the one who anonymously sent your friend Anya the contact information for the identity service. | was the one who sent the original fraud files to that whistleblower. | wanted you to be free. | just never dreamed I'd be lucky enough to find you again." | stared at him, speechless. He had been my guardian angel all along, working in the shadows to save me. From the street corner, hidden in the shadows, Julian watched us. He saw the kiss. He saw the way | looked at Gordon, with a dawning hope and affection | thought had been permanently burned out of me. He watched as the woman he had lost found her salvation in the arms of another man. And the last sliver of his sanity finally, irrevocably, broke.