Christopher Vale
He'd been a fool.
Not for loving her—but for believing love was enough.
Christopher sat alone in the soft shadows of his study, Elena's silence heavy on his chest like a weight he couldn't lift. She hadn't spoken a word since he brought her back to his apartment. She hadn't cried. Hadn't screamed.
She just… existed.
And somewhere deep inside, he knew it wasn't Damien's announcement that broke her. It was the truth behind it.
The child was Damien's.
Not his.
No matter how many ways he swore to stand by her, love her, raise the baby as his own—he wasn't the one she woke up thinking about. Or dreaming of. He wasn't the one she ran from or the one she still, unknowingly, chased in circles.
"You're losing her," a voice inside whispered.
But had he ever truly had her?
He clenched his fists and stood, pacing.
He'd tried. God, he'd tried. He gave her safety. Warmth. A future that didn't choke the air from her lungs. But it was never enough. Not when the ghost of Damien Vale hung over every breath she took.
He could see it clearly now—her eyes when she looked at him. Grateful, but distant. Like he was a pause in the chaos, not the ending.
And that kiss?
It had been real…
But not for the reason he wanted.
It was desperation.
A reach for something that felt kind, not consuming.
Christopher took a breath and closed his eyes.
He would let her go.
Because loving someone meant not caging them—
Even if it meant watching them walk back into the fire.
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