Chapter 9: The Day He Begged for Forgiveness

Elinor Frost POV:

The first thing I felt was emptiness.

Not pain.

Not fear.

Not even grief.

Just emptiness.

A hollow darkness stretching endlessly inside my chest.

The steady beep of hospital monitors echoed through the room.

I opened my eyes slowly.

White ceiling.

White walls.

White sheets.

The same hospital.

The same loneliness.

Only this time something was missing.

Something precious.

Something irreplaceable.

My hand moved instinctively toward my stomach.

Flat.

Empty.

Cold.

Tears filled my eyes immediately.

I already knew.

Before anyone spoke.

Before any doctor explained.

I knew.

"Mrs. Harmon?"

A gentle voice came from beside me.

Dr. Marlow.

The same doctor who had told me I was pregnant.

Her expression told me everything.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

The world shattered.

"No."

The word escaped like a broken prayer.

"No."

Dr. Marlow's eyes filled with sympathy.

"We did everything we could."

"No."

"The injuries were too severe."

"No."

"Mrs. Harmon—"

"No!"

The scream tore from my throat.

Raw.

Animal.

Heartbreaking.

Everything inside me collapsed.

I buried my face in my hands and cried.

Not quietly.

Not gracefully.

I broke.

Completely.

The baby was gone.

The tiny heartbeat.

The future I had imagined.

The nursery.

The lullabies.

The little life I had already started loving.

Gone.

Stolen.

I don't know how long I cried.

Minutes.

Hours.

An eternity.

Eventually, the door opened.

Heavy footsteps entered.

I didn't need to look.

I knew.

Braden.

The room became silent.

Dr. Marlow left quietly.

The door clicked shut.

Neither of us spoke.

I stared at the ceiling.

He stood beside the bed.

Motionless.

Like a man waiting for a death sentence.

"Elinor."

His voice cracked.

I said nothing.

"Please look at me."

Nothing.

"Please."

Slowly, I turned my head.

The sight almost shocked me.

Braden looked terrible.

His eyes were bloodshot.

His face was pale.

Dark circles shadowed his features.

He looked as though he hadn't slept in days.

Good.

It wasn't enough.

But it was a start.

"I'm sorry."

The words hung between us.

Meaningless.

Worthless.

Too late.

"Sorry?"

My voice sounded hollow.

"That's what you came to say?"

His jaw tightened.

"I didn't know about the baby."

"No."

"If I had known—"

"What?"

I cut him off.

"Would you have skipped Tokyo?"

Silence.

"Would you have stayed at the hospital?"

More silence.

"Would you have stopped sleeping with her?"

His eyes closed.

"Elinor..."

"Answer me."

Nothing.

Exactly.

I laughed.

A cold, broken laugh.

"That's what I thought."

His shoulders sagged.

For once, he looked defeated.

"I never wanted this."

"Neither did I."

"I mean the baby."

"Don't."

My voice became dangerously quiet.

"Don't talk about my child."

"Our child."

"No."

I stared directly into his eyes.

"Mine."

The pain that flashed across his face should have satisfied me.

It didn't.

Nothing did.

Because nothing could bring my baby back.

"I loved that child," he whispered.

"You didn't even know that child existed."

The truth hit him hard.

His face crumpled.

"You're right."

For a moment, I simply stared.

This wasn't the Braden I knew.

The arrogant man.

The cruel husband.

The untouchable producer.

This man looked broken.

Destroyed.

And somehow it still wasn't enough.

The door opened again.

Guy entered.

The moment he saw Braden, his expression darkened.

"Get out."

Braden didn't move.

"Guy—"

"Get out before I remove you myself."

Braden looked at me.

One final time.

"I'm going to fix this."

I almost laughed again.

"Fix what?"

His face tightened.

"Everything."

"You can't."

The certainty in my voice seemed to destroy whatever hope remained in him.

"Elinor..."

"My baby is dead."

Silence.

"There is no fixing that."

Braden stood frozen.

Then slowly, he nodded.

And left.

The moment the door closed, Guy sat beside me.

"He's finished."

"What do you mean?"

"Destany was arrested this morning."

I blinked.

"What?"

"Mrs. Gable gave a statement. Security footage confirms everything."

My pulse slowed.

Not satisfaction.

Not revenge.

Just exhaustion.

"Good."

"There's more."

I looked at him.

"Braden destroyed her career overnight."

"What?"

"Every contract. Every sponsorship. Every project."

For the first time, surprise broke through my grief.

"Why?"

Guy laughed bitterly.

"Because apparently now he cares."

I looked away.

"Too late."

"I know."

The room fell silent again.

Eventually, Guy placed a folder on the bed.

"What is this?"

"Your divorce papers."

I stared at the folder.

The same documents that once terrified me.

Now they felt inevitable.

Necessary.

Freedom.

"He'll fight it," I said.

"Not anymore."

"Why?"

"Because he signed them this morning."

I froze.

"What?"

"Without negotiation. Without conditions."

My chest tightened.

For years he refused to let me go.

And now he had signed.

Maybe losing the baby had finally shown him the cost of his actions.

Or maybe he simply realized there was nothing left to save.

Either way, it didn't matter.

The marriage was over.

Finally.

Guy squeezed my shoulder gently.

"You don't have to fight anymore, Ellie."

Tears filled my eyes.

Not because I was sad.

Because I was tired.

So incredibly tired.

I looked out the hospital window.

The sun was beginning to set.

Golden light painted the city skyline.

Beautiful.

Peaceful.

Final.

For the first time since meeting Braden Harmon, I felt nothing when I thought about him.

No love.

No hope.

No longing.

Nothing.

And somehow that emptiness felt more like freedom than anything else.