---- Chapter 16 Chloe opened the door, mid-laugh, then froze when she saw Mark kneeling in the hallway, surrounded by spilled food, his face ashen. "Mark! Darling! What happened?" she asked, her voice laced with feigned innocence and shock. Maya peeked around her, her eyes wide. Mark looked up, his eyes filled with a pain and fury Chloe had never seen. "You... you lied," he rasped, his voice hoarse. "Everything. It was all lies." He gestured vaguely at the door. "| heard you. Talking to Maya. The black mold. The twisted ankle. The park." Fury. Profound hurt. Direct accusation. Chloe's face paled. She tried to recover. "Mark, |... | can explain He surged to his feet, grabbing her shoulders, his grip like iron. "Explain what, Chloe? How you systematically destroyed my life? My family? How you turned me against my own son? My own... Ava?" He pushed her away. She stumbled back into the apartment, falling against a table. Rejection. Physical consequence. ---- Mark stared at her, the woman he thought he loved, the woman he'd sacrificed everything for. She was a stranger. A conniving, manipulative stranger. His past perception of her as a damsel in distress, as a supportive partner, shattered into a million pieces. Disgust. Bitter realization. Maya started to cry, real tears this time, frightened by the raw emotion. Child's fear. Mark rounded on the little girl, his voice shaking with rage. "And you! You little actress! You helped her! You helped destroy my son's happiness! My family!" Anger. Blame. Direct insult. Chloe scrambled up, desperation in her eyes. "Mark, please! Yes, | lied! But | did it because | love you! | was afraid of losing you to Ava! She was always there, a shadow between us!" Desperation. A partial confession, twisted with a claim of love. Mark laughed, a harsh, broken sound. "Love? You don't know the meaning of love. | loved Ava. | truly loved her, before you poisoned everything. And | love my son. You... you deserve to be in jail for what you've done. Fraud. Defamation. Child endangerment." Rejection. A demand for justice. A direct statement of his true ---- feelings for Ava. He remembered all the times he'd protected Chloe, made excuses for her, believed her lies over Ava's quiet truths. He'd chosen Chloe over Leo during the asthma attack, during the park stabbing. The harm he'd inflicted on his own child, all for this... this viper. Regret. Self-blame. Chloe, seeing her world collapsing, played her last card. "Mark, think of my father! His dying wish! He asked you to look after me! You promised him!" Desperation. Manipulation. Appealing to his misplaced sense of obligation. Mark flinched. The memory of Chloe's father, a good man, a mentor, was a raw wound. He was torn. Justice for Ava and Leo... or the promise to a dead man? Internal struggle. Pain. He looked at Chloe, her face streaked with tears, a mask of desperate pleading. "A life for a life," he whispered, the words tasting like ash. His life, his happiness, for the debt he owed. A reluctant, painful compromise. "Get out," Mark said, his voice dead. "Take Maya. Take your things. | don't want to see either of you ever again." He wouldn't call the police. This was his final payment of that ---- cursed "debt." Resignation. Finality (of the debt). After they were gone, Mark sat alone in the silent apartment. He longed for Ava, for Leo. For the life he had thrown away. But the shame was too great. He couldn't face them. Not after what he'd done. Regret. Longing. Shame. He found a bottle of scotch, a relic from a happier time. He drank. And drank. Despair. Self-punishment. The alcohol burned, but it didn't numb the pain. In a drunken haze, he found a new burner phone he'd bought. He dialed Ava's new number, the one Danny had briefly used to coordinate some bakery logistics. "Ava?" he slurred. "Ava, I'm so sorry. S-so sorry. Chloe... she fooled me. Fooled everyone. It was all her. |... | messed up. So bad. Please..." Remorse. Desperation. Ava, in her quiet cottage, answered the unfamiliar number. She heard Mark's drunken, rambling apology. She felt nothing. No pity. No anger. Just... emptiness. She hung up. She blocked the number. Indifference. Finality. ---- Ava looked at the phone. He sounded like he was on the verge of collapse. Good, she thought, a flicker of coldness in her heart. Let him suffer. She had no concern for his well-being. He'd earned his misery. Danny, who had been quietly reading in the living room, looked up. "Everything okay?" Ava nodded. "Just a wrong number." She turned back to the cookbook she was reading, a small, genuine smile finally gracing her lips. Danny's presence was a quiet comfort. He'd made a public statement a few days ago, through his company's PR. It clarified that his investment in Ava's bakery was a legitimate business venture with a trusted friend, and the trust for Leo was a personal gift from a loving godfather. He took full responsibility for the "rumors," effectively shielding Ava from any public moral judgment. Transparency. Protection. Ava felt a warmth spread through her chest. Danny was a good man. A kind man. Gratitude. Warmth. "Danny," she said later, "are you sure you won't regret... all of this? The money, the move, the... everything?" Concern. Caution. Danny put down his book. "The only thing | regret, Ava, is not ---- telling you how | felt twenty years ago, before you ever met Mark Thompson. Not fighting for you then." Determination. Past regret. "| left Austin after you got engaged to Mark because | couldn't stand to watch him destroy you," he admitted. "I thought if | put distance between us, I'd get over you. | was wrong. Coming back, finding you again, helping you and Leo... this is the best decision I've ever made." Self-awareness. Past pain. An explanation of his past actions. Leo, who had padded in for a glass of water, heard the end of their conversation. "So, Uncle Danny," he asked, his eyes wide with innocent curiosity, "were you trying to be Mommy's... 'other man' like Chloe was for Daddy Mark?" Child's innocence. Accidental, pointed insight.