Chapter 36

Present day.

Sophia

"So you understand now... they have every reason to despise me. I destroyed their love," I murmur, tears welling in my eyes.

Reliving the past is always agonizing. I was naive. Foolish. Believing I could make Ethan Blackwood love me after I shattered his life. Nine years later, and I’m still paying the price for loving him.

"It wasn’t your fault," Daniel says softly, his fingers tracing mine.

"But it was." The tears spill freely now. "I let my obsession consume me, and because of that, I made the worst mistake of my life."

If only I could turn back time. If only I could undo it all. I’ve lived drowning in regret. I wish I had listened to that voice in my head—the one screaming at me to stop. It would have spared me so much pain.

God, I wish I had known sooner that I was pregnant. I would have run. Disappeared. Never told Ethan about Liam. No one would have known. It sounds cruel, but looking back, it would have spared my son from witnessing the endless battles between his parents.

I would have gone somewhere no one knew me. Far from my family. Far from Ethan. A place where no one could find us. And honestly? I doubt they would have even tried.

"Sophia?"

"Hmm?" I blink, pulled from my thoughts.

"I said it wasn’t your fault. You were drunk too. If they blamed you, they should have blamed him just as much." His smile is reassuring, but it’s his words that stun me.

"You... believe me?" I whisper, shocked.

No one—no one—has ever believed I was drunk that night. They all painted me as some scheming villain who took advantage of an innocent man.

"Of course I do. Don’t you think you’re innocent too?" His blue eyes bore into mine, as if peeling back every layer of my pain.

I exhale shakily. "I got so tired of hearing it was my fault. That I wasn’t drunk at all. That I wanted it. After a while, I started believing them. Even doubting my own memories."

It’s pathetic, really. When everyone insists you’re guilty, you start questioning your own truth.

Sometimes, I wonder if the suffering Ethan put me through was my punishment. Divine retribution for wanting a man who wasn’t mine. That’s what everyone told me, anyway. That I deserved the pain.

You learn to swallow their words when they’re forced down your throat enough times. That’s what happened to me. Eventually, I believed them. Believed I was the monster they claimed.

The only light in that darkness was Liam. I’d never regret him. He saved me. Anchored me when I wanted to let go. When the loneliness suffocated me so badly I considered ending it all.

It was after his birth. The constant hatred, the relentless pain—it nearly broke me. I knew Ethan would care for him. He adored Liam the second he held him.

But I clawed my way back from that edge. Because leaving Liam would have meant leaving him to her. Isabella. I refused to let her poison my son with the same venom she spat at me.

Now, seeing the vile things she said about Liam? I’m glad I stayed. I won’t let her hurt him.

"You’re not to blame. Never," Daniel says firmly. "You were both drunk. Your parents should be ashamed for dumping all the guilt on an eighteen-year-old. Ethan was twenty—he should have taken responsibility instead of letting you drown in blame."

"But I went to him that night."

"Doesn’t matter. He gave you alcohol knowing you shouldn’t have been drinking." He pulls his hand from mine, raking it through his hair. "The more I learn about Ethan and your family, the more I despise them," he mutters, more to himself than me.

I stay silent. Because honestly? I’m starting to hate them too.

"Come on." He stands, helping me up.

"Where are we going?" I ask, reluctant to leave. The thought of returning to an empty house makes my chest ache.

"Taking you home. I don’t like watching you drown yourself in alcohol to forget."

Before I can protest, he’s guiding me through the crowd and out of the bar. The night air bites my skin, and I shiver. Without a word, he shrugs off his leather jacket and drapes it over my shoulders.

The drive is quiet, but the silence isn’t uncomfortable. My mind races—part of me clings to Daniel’s words, but the guilt still festers. Three lives ruined because of me.

Too soon, we pull into my driveway. Daniel kills the engine and walks me to the door like the gentleman he is.

I fumble with my keys, then pause. "Do you want to come in?" I ask, voice rough. "I’m not done yet. Still not drunk enough to numb the pain."

His brows knit together. "You’re planning to keep drinking just to forget?"

I nod. I just need a few hours of escape.

His gaze darkens. I see the exact moment his resolve snaps, heat flooding his eyes.

"If that’s what you need," he says, voice dropping lower, "then I’ve got a better remedy."

He steps inside, shutting the door behind him. Then his lips crash into mine, and for the next few hours, he shows me exactly how much better his remedy is.