---- Chapter 25 | leaned against the closed door, my heart pounding. Ethan's family. | had only met them a few times. They were a cold, formidable clan who had disapproved of me from the start. His mother, a woman with eyes like chips of ice, had taken me aside before the wedding. "Ethan is a complicated man," she had warned me. "He loves fiercely, but his love can be... possessive. He builds walls to protect himself. Be careful you don't get trapped inside them." At the time, | had dismissed it as the ramblings of a jealous mother. Now, her words seemed prophetic. She had seen the monster in him long before | had. The next day, she came to see me herself. She was older, more frail, but her eyes were still as sharp as ever. She didn't make excuses for him. "| failed him," she said, her voice heavy with a lifetime of regret. "His father... he was a cruel man. He taught Ethan that love was about control, that vulnerability was a weakness. | was too weak to stop it. | let my son become a monster." She looked at me, her eyes pleading. "But he is changing, Sarah. For you. He's been in therapy. He's trying to dismantle the walls he built. Please. Just see him. The doctors say hearing your voice might be the only thing that can bring him ---- back." | didn't want to. | wanted to be free of him, of his whole toxic world. But | looked at this broken old woman, and | saw a glimmer of my own grandmother's fierce, protective love. And | remembered the man Ethan had once been. "I'll. go," | said, my voice barely a whisper. "But this is the last time. After this, he has to let me go. Forever." At the hospital, | sat by his bedside. He was pale and still, a network of tubes and wires connecting him to the beeping machines that were keeping him alive. He looked so fragile, so unlike the powerful, intimidating man who had dominated my life for so long. | took a deep breath and | started to talk. | told him about our first date, about the thousand roses, about the way he had made me laugh. | told him about the good times, the moments of sweetness and light that | had tried so hard to forget. Tears streamed down my face as | spoke. | was mourning the man he could have been, the life we could have had. "It wasn't all bad, Ethan," | whispered, my voice thick with emotion. "There was good in you. | know there was." | stayed for an hour, then | left. A week later, he woke up. He knew | had been there. His mother told him. He was weak, ---- but his eyes burned with a renewed hope. | went to see him one last time, to say my final goodbye. Daniel waited for me outside the room. "This is it, Ethan," | said, my voice firm. "I'm glad you're awake. But this changes nothing. | have paid my debts to you. We are even. | want you to live a long life. A life that does not include me. | turned to leave. | was wearing my wedding dress. My wedding to Daniel was in an hour. "Wait!" he cried, his voice a raw croak. He ripped the IV from his arm and stumbled out of bed, grabbing my arm. "Don't do this, Sarah. Please. The therapy is working. I'm getting better. Just give me some time." | gently but firmly pried his fingers from my arm. "It's too late, Ethan." "It's because I'm not good enough for you, isn't it?" he said, his voice breaking. "Because I'm from a different world." "No," | said, looking him straight in the eye. "It's because | don't love you anymore." The words were a final, fatal blow. He stared at me, his face a mask of utter devastation. "Please," he begged, his voice a shattered whisper. "Don't say that." | turned and walked out of the room, out of his life, and into ---- the arms of the man who was waiting to make me his wife.