---- Chapter 11 Ethan retreated to his study, the door locked against Jessica 's intrusions. He found the box of Amelia' s art books he had salvaged. Tucked inside one of them was a worn leather-bound journal. Her journal He hesitated for a moment, a flicker of guilt. This was an invasion of her privacy. But the desperate need to understand, to find some trace of the woman he had lost, overrode his scruples. He opened it. Amelia' s elegant script filled the pages. Years of her life, her thoughts, her pain, laid bare. "October 17th. Three months married. Ethan was cold again today. He spent the evening on the phone with J. | pretended not to hear. Grandmother Eleanor says to be patient. But my heart aches." Each entry was a fresh stab of guilt. He read about the Caldwell Foundation gala, the one where Jessica had "accidentally" spilled red wine on Amelia' s dress. ---- Amelia' s entry: "J did it on purpose. | saw the look in her eyes. Ethan defended her, of course. Said | was being paranoid. He bought J a new diamond bracelet the next day to 'make up for my unpleasantness.' | cried myself to sleep. He didn' t notice." Ethan remembered the incident. He had believed Jessica. He had called Amelia hysterical. He felt a wave of nausea. He read about a business dinner where a rival had tried to slander him Amelia' s entry: "Mr. Harrison was spreading awful rumors about Ethan tonight. | couldn't stand it. | confronted him, defended Ethan' s integrity. Harrison was furious. Ethan was furious too - at me. Said | embarrassed him, that | should have stayed quiet. He didn't even ask what Harrison said. He just assumed | was making a scene. Sometimes | think he hates me." Ethan remembered that night too. He had been so angry with her for "meddling." He hadn't known she was defending him. The weight of his misjudgments, his cruelty, pressed down on him, suffocating. Then, he found it. An entry from five years ago. "Ethan is sick. High fever. The doctors are worried. He needs a rare blood type for a transfusion. B-negative. Mine. | didn't ---- hesitate. He doesn't know. | asked the doctor not to tell him. He would... he would probably think | was trying to manipulate him, to indebt him to me. | just want him to be well. | love him so much. It hurts." Ethan' s hand clenched, crushing the page. B-negative. He remembered being ill, vaguely. Remembered the transfusion. He had never questioned where the blood came from. She had saved his life. And he had never known. He had repaid her selfless love with contempt, with cruelty, with Jessica. The enormity of his blindness, his callousness, crashed down on him. He read on, page after page, a litany of her unrequited love, her quiet suffering, her confusion at his cruelty. Sketches of him, tender and idealized, filled the margins. Drawings of a life she had dreamed of with him - a small cottage by the sea, children laughing, them holding hands. Starkly contrasted with her raw, honest accounts of Jessica ' s subtle manipulations, the digs, the lies, the way Jessica had systematically poisoned his view of Amelia, isolated her. Things he had dismissed as Amelia' s paranoia, her jealousy. It was all there, documented in painful detail. ---- He saw, for the first time, the depth of her love, the extent of her pain, and the true, vicious nature of the woman he had cherished. He was a fool. A blind, arrogant, cruel fool. The door to the study creaked open. Jessica stood there, a triumphant smirk on her face. 1 "Find anything interesting, darling?" she purred, her eyes flicking to the journal in his hand. "Don't tell me you're actually reading her pathetic scribblings? So sentimental. So... Amelia." She had clearly been listening at the door. Her casual, dismissive tone, her utter lack of empathy, ignited a cold rage in Ethan. Jessica sauntered in, picking up a loose page that had fallen to the floor. 'Oh, this is rich," she said, scanning it. "Her undying love for you? Please. It was all an act, Ethan. Plotting your next little sabotage?" He advanced on her, the journal clutched in his hand like a weapon. "She defended me when others tried to tear me down! She loved me! Unconditionally! And I... | spat on that love. | chose you. His voice broke on the last word, a raw sound of self-loathing. Jessica' s smirk faltered. She took a step back, a flicker of fear in her eyes. "Ethan, you're not making any sense," she stammered. "She was always playing the victim. She twisted things-" "No, Jessica," Ethan interrupted, his voice cold as ice. "You twisted things. You lied. You manipulated. You destroyed any chance | had with her." + He threw the journal onto the desk. "I see it all now. Everything." He looked at her, his expression one of utter revulsion. "Get out of my house, Jessica. Get out of my life. And don't ---- ever come back." Jessica stared at him, her face pale, her eyes wide with disbelief and dawning panic. "Ethan, you can't mean that," she whispered. "After everything .. | love you." "Love?" Ethan laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. "You don't know the meaning of the word." He turned his back on her, walking to the window, staring out at the city lights, unseeing. He heard her hesitant footsteps, then the click of the door closing. He was alone. Utterly, devastatingly alone. And it was all his own damn fault. He sank into his chair, his head in his hands. The image of Amelia' s face, her sad, hopeful eyes from years ago, haunted him. He had been given a precious gift, a love so pure, so selfless. And he had thrown it away, blinded by resentment and infatuation. He had believed Jessica' s lies, embraced her poison, and in doing so, he had destroyed the one person who had truly loved him. ---- The weight of his guilt was crushing. Where was Amelia now? Could he find her? Could he ever make amends for the lifetime of pain he had caused her? The questions hung in the air, unanswered, a torment to his shattered soul