Chapter 11
After the funeral for Samantha's parents, Julian arranged for her to see a grief counselor. He visited often, checking in on her from time to time. Nina had noticed. "You've been really busy lately. Always on call or in emergency surgeries." Julian paused as he was heading out. "There's been a lot going on. I might have to leave town for a few days." She nodded, smiling. "Bring me back a souvenir, okay?" "Aren't you going to ask how long I'll be gone? What if I'm off seeing someone else?" he teased . She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder . " My Dr. Ford would never lie to me . " He held her , stiff for a moment , then tightened his arms around her. His gaze lingered on the top of her head, eyes heating with emotion. "And what if I ever did?" he asked quietly. She bit his shoulder hard. "Then I'd disappear from your life for good. "He laughed softly." Fair enough." Still, he had lied.
The police , fearing further retaliation, had arranged for him to quietly escort Samantha out of the country. They flew to Aspenridge. One night, in a dimly lit bar, Samantha got drunk and slumped over the counter, tears running freely. "Julian," she mumbled, "I wish I could hate you." He placed his coat over her shoulders. "I'm sorry." "I don't want sorry!" she shouted, grabbing his collar. Then she caught sight of a faint bite mark on his shoulder- still there. "What do you want, Samantha?" he asked. Her fingers loosened. "Anything," he said. "As long as I have it to give. "She looked up at him, eyes swimming with tears. And then, without warning, she pulled him down into a kiss. Julian froze. His first instinct was to push her away. But when he looked into her eyes - they were the same eyes that had stared at him the night her mother died, pleading and broken. And suddenly, all his strength vanished.
Samantha pointed at his chest. "What about this?" she asked. "Would you give this too?" His phone buzzed in his pocket. Over and over. He knew it was Nina. But guilt had long taken ownership of his life - and now, it was calling the shots. He heard himself say, "Okay. Let's be together." That time, he didn't bring Nina a souvenir. A few days later, he returned to take care of things in the States. Then, on a rainy day, he told Nina they were over. She stood in the storm all night. He didn't leave just stood behind her, soaked in the same rain. The second day in Aspenridge, he came down with a fever. Half - conscious, all he could see was Nina's face. He kept reaching for her, but she was never there. That's when it hit him. He and Nina were truly done. From that moment on, he told himself he had only one path: atonement. But seeing her again had shattered all of that. He couldn't atone. And he couldn't marry someone else while the woman he loved was gone. His car sped down the open roads of Aspenridge, Samantha's calls lighting up his phone. He stared at the screen, then answered. She was crying. "Julian, there's no wedding. Come back, please." His voice was terrifyingly calm. "Everything I own is in the safety deposit box. The code is your birthday. It's enough for you to live comfortably for the rest of your life." "What are you saying?" she whispered. "Samantha, sometimes guilt and obligation aren't the only ways to repay someone. He stared ahead at the ocean drawing nearer, his grip tightening on the wheel. He slammed his foot down on the gas. With a deafening crash, the car broke through the barrier and plunged into the sea. Water flooded the cabin in an instant. Samantha's screams echoed through the phone, muffled by the rising tide.
Nina was gone. His life had lost all meaning. Let death free him. Let the chains end here.
Julian closed his eyes. Then a voice pierced the darkness. "Julian! Julian!" The crushing weight in his chest vanished. He gasped awake - in a hospital bed. Samantha sat at his side, eyes red and filled with tears. But he didn't see her. " His gaze locked onto something behind her - Nina, floating in the air, translucent and silent, watching him.
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