Chapter 414

Ethan made sure Cassandra took her pills before directing her to the lounge area nearby.

She didn't resist, moving like a ghost with empty eyes. She sank onto the couch, motionless, as if her soul had left her body.

Turning back to Vivian, his expression hardened. "How can you even ask me that? Do you really not understand why she's like this?"

Vivian's temper flared. "Stop speaking in riddles, Ethan Blackwood. If you think I'm some monster, then just take your revenge! Don't act like you're morally superior while punishing me."

His gaze darkened with sorrow. "Do you feel nothing for the life you destroyed? The woman you ruined? Do you honestly believe you shouldn't face consequences?"

Vivian's throat tightened. How could I not regret it? I've tortured myself over that night for four years. But I can't undo it—should I drown in guilt forever?

Ethan's voice cracked. "She was bleeding out when I got her to the hospital. The doctors said—if we'd been just minutes earlier, they could've saved the baby. They wouldn't have had to remove her uterus. Minutes, Vivian." His eyes burned with unshed tears.

"Why did you push her?" His whisper was raw. "I faked her death. Hid her where you'd never find her. Why couldn't you just walk away?"

Vivian looked away. She wanted to scream that Cassandra had sought her out, that the woman had provoked her mercilessly—but none of it mattered. She wasn't innocent.

"Just a little sooner," Ethan choked out. "That's all it would've taken. How could you stand there and watch? What were you so afraid of?"

Regret, not anger, lined his face.

"I'd already chosen you. If we'd been faster—none of this would've happened."

Back then, he'd just left the Baldwin estate with Vivian, finally understanding his own heart. He'd been waiting for her answer, hoping for a fresh start.

Then everything shattered.

We wouldn't be here if we'd just been faster.

"I'm sorry," Vivian whispered, bowing her head.

Ethan exhaled heavily. "After losing the baby, Cassandra lost her mind. The doctors diagnosed severe manic depression. She'll need medication for life—but the pills have side effects. Some days, she's lucid enough to remember the baby and her hysterectomy, and she sobs for hours. Other days, she still thinks she's pregnant. She drags me to doctor's appointments, buys baby clothes..."

His gaze flicked to the vacant woman on the couch. "She must've skipped her meds today. That's why she fixated on the baby's 'death anniversary.' Seeing you triggered her breakdown."

He met Vivian's eyes. "I'm not telling you this for revenge. I just want you to know—you're not the only one suffering. You hurt, but she's living in hell. How could I not grieve for her?"