Lover's Vendetta, A Betrayal That Burns

Chapter 11

After that day, I never saw Nolan again, nor did I hear from him. With Wesley's help, I gained custody of Aiden. Even though Aiden would never be able to open his eyes or leave his bed again, I made the decision to quit my job and dedicate myself fully to him.

Then, out of nowhere, I received a transfer of ten million dollars. The sender? Nolan. He had designated it for Aiden's medical expenses and ongoing care. Amanda stopped bothering me, and Wesley worked tirelessly to secure a conviction for Aria. I didn't attend the sentencing, but Wesley brought me the good news afterward, Aria was sentenced to life imprisonment for murder. It was his most significant victory.

But there was more.

"Nolan is sick," Wesley said quietly, his voice tinged with gravity. "He has terminal cancer, and he's given up treatment."

I froze, the shock seizing me. My hand trembled as I held Aiden's. I looked down at him, trying to process the words. Wesley nodded solemnly, watching me closely.

"I'm not surprised," I whispered, my voice soft but unwavering. "It's the retribution he deserves."

Before Wesley could say anything else, Amanda barged into the room, her presence commanding but frantic. He quickly stepped in front of me, trying to stop her, but Amanda was determined.

"I was wrong before. You can hit me, scold me, anything, but please… I beg you… go see Nolan one last time."

Tears streamed down her face as she knelt before me. Her silver hair shimmered under the bright lights, and for the first time, I saw her vulnerability.

I agreed, and Wesley escorted me to the next ward. There, I found Nolan. He was frail, nearly unrecognizable. After fainting that day, he had been diagnosed with cancer, but he had kept it from me, not wanting me to know. If Wesley hadn't told me, Nolan might have left this world with that secret, alone.

He lay there on the sterile hospital bed, barely breathing. His body was as thin as kindling, his sunken eyes dull and lifeless, but when he saw me, there was a flicker of recognition.

"Scarlett…" he whispered my name with all the strength he could muster, but his voice was barely audible, like a faint mosquito's buzz.

I looked down at him, feeling a strange numbness. Was it anger? Hatred? Or maybe just schadenfreude? I couldn't tell.

"It's my retribution," he whispered, tears dripping into his thinning hair. "I was wrong. So wrong…"

If he could have, he would have knelt before me, begging for forgiveness.

"I'm sorry, Scarlett. I've wronged you. I've wronged Aiden…"

He reached out, his hand trembling. "Please… take good care of Aiden."

His hand fell limp before I could speak. I couldn't find the words to forgive him. Because, deep down, I truly couldn't.

I stumbled back to Aiden's side, my emotions a whirlwind. From the neighboring ward, I heard crying. It felt like a world away. I couldn't shed a single tear.

I didn't attend Nolan's funeral. Instead, I sent Wesley with a wreath in my place. When he returned, he told me what had happened. Amanda had been so overcome with grief that she collapsed at the funeral. She followed Nolan in death, and in that moment, it seemed like all the grudges, all the pain, had finally come to rest.

The tears I'd been holding back for so long finally fell.

Wesley stayed with me all day, not once leaving my side, no matter how much I urged him to. He even made oatmeal and handed it to me, but I couldn't bring myself to take it. I whispered, "You shouldn't do this. I can't reciprocate your feelings. You should find someone better."

He set the bowl down on the table, brushing a strand of hair from my forehead. His gaze was soft, tender, almost too kind to be real.

"To me," he said quietly, "you are the best thing in this world. I've already waited ten years. Life is short. How many decades do we really have left? No matter how many, I'll stay as long as you need."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I gazed at him, my heart heavy with everything I had been through.

Then, one day, Aiden woke up. He blinked slowly, his eyes barely able to focus, but he managed to whisper softly, "Mommy."

As time passed, those were still the only words he could say. The brain damage from the lack of oxygen had left him with permanent injuries. But with me and Wesley by his side, Aiden slowly learned to speak a little more.

"Mommy, I love you."

And in those words, I found the strength to keep going.