Chapter 45:
The Weight of What Matters Most

The drive home should have been peaceful. Kathalina was preparing Ethan's favorite meal - her famous homemade lasagna - and the thought of sitting around the dinner table with his son should have been enough to quiet the noise in Harry's head. But his phone kept vibrating in his pocket, a persistent, insistent buzz that made his jaw tighten every time he felt it.

He knew exactly who it was. Olivia.

Thirty-nine missed calls. In one afternoon.

He ignored them all. He told himself he needed space. He needed time to breathe, to be a father, to be present where he actually was. But every vibration sent a fresh wave of unease through his chest, a quiet voice whispering that something wasn't right. Just as he pulled into the driveway, the phone buzzed again - but this time, the screen showed an unfamiliar number.

With a heavy sigh, he answered. "Hello?"

"Thank God - finally! You picked up!" A man's voice came through, breathless and urgent.

Harry frowned. "Who is this?"

"It's Andrei. And this is Harry Lorenzo, isn't it?"

Harry's grip on the phone tightened until his knuckles turned white. Andrei? The man he had lashed out at just days ago? What on earth could he possibly have to say to him now?

"This is Harry. What do you need?"

"Look, please - just listen to me. I've been trying to call Ker - Olivia - but she's not answering. I found your number in her emergency contacts. I wouldn't be calling if it wasn't serious." There was a pause on the other end, heavy and unsettling. Then Andrei's voice dropped lower, weighted with concern. "She collapsed, Harry. We're at St. Claire's Hospital right now. She's resting, but... before she passed out, she was crying your name. Over and over again."

The world seemed to tilt beneath Harry's feet. His heart slammed painfully against his ribs, and for a moment, he couldn't draw breath. His hand gripped the steering wheel so hard his fingers ached.

"She... what happened? Is she hurt?" His voice came out strained, tighter than he had ever heard it.

"She's under observation now. Exhaustion, dehydration - the doctor says she's been running on empty for quite some time. But Harry... you really need to come. She needs you here."

"I'm on my way. Send me the room number." He hung up, his hands trembling as he started the engine again. A sharp, burning twist of jealousy and confusion knotted deep in his chest. Why was she with him? Why was he the one finding her, bringing her here, caring for her? What did Andrei think he was to her? And why did the thought of him standing where Harry should have been make him feel so utterly small and useless?



He drove faster than he should have, the city lights blurring into streaks of gold and shadow as every terrible possibility raced through his mind. She collapsed. She wasn't eating. She was crying his name. She had tried to hurt herself before - because of him. Because he wasn't there. The last thought made his stomach twist with a sickening dread. If something happened to her... if he lost her because he was too busy nursing his own hurt...

He burst through the hospital doors, breath ragged, his heart hammering against his throat like a trapped bird. He found the room number and pushed the door open without knocking, wild‑eyed and breathless.

Inside, two people turned to look - a warm, kind‑faced couple in their fifties - and Andrei, sitting beside the bed where Olivia lay.

Harry's breath caught in his throat. She looked... wrong. Her skin was too pale, her cheeks hollowed, dark circles deep and bruised beneath her closed eyes. She looked smaller than he remembered. Fragile. As if one wrong breath might shatter her completely.

"You must be Harry," the woman said gently, stepping forward. "I'm Amy, Andrei's mother. It's so good to finally meet you. Your wife is lovely - truly. You're a very lucky man. Take good care of her, won't you?"

Harry nodded, unable to find his voice. Lucky? He didn't feel lucky. He felt like he was failing the one person who had once been his entire world.

"And this is my husband, Fred," she said, gesturing to the quiet man beside her who offered a tired but polite smile. "Well, we'll leave you three alone. Come on, old man - let's give them some space." She patted Andrei's shoulder warmly, then gave Harry one last soft, knowing look before the door clicked shut behind them.

Silence settled heavily in the room - thick, awkward, and painfully charged. Andrei stood slowly, running a hand tiredly through his hair.

"She hasn't been eating properly," Andrei said quietly, his eyes never leaving Olivia's still form. "For weeks, probably. She says she's not hungry. She pushes food around on her plate and smiles like everything's fine. But she's fading away, Harry. Right in front of us."

Harry's throat tightened painfully. He should have known. He should have seen it. He should have been the one to notice. Instead, it was a stranger standing here telling him the woman he loved was starving herself.

"And there's something else you need to know," Andrei continued, his voice low and serious. "Before she lost consciousness tonight... she was sobbing your name. Like you were the only thing holding her together." He paused, swallowing hard before meeting Harry's gaze. "And... she told me something else. That once, in her darkest moment, she tried to end it. Because the pain felt too big to carry alone."

A jagged, tearing pain ripped through Harry's chest. His breath hitched, his hand gripping the foot of the bed for support. She tried to... because of me? Because I wasn't there? Because I left her alone in the dark?

"I didn't call you here to fight, Harry," Andrei said steadily. "I called you because no matter what's happened between you two - no matter the distance, the silence, the mistakes - she still looks for you in every room. She still calls your name when she's afraid. And I can't be the one she leans on forever. It's not my place. And it's not fair to her."

"What are you saying?" Harry's voice was rough, defensive, his heart pounding in his ears.

"I'm saying you need to choose." Andrei's words were calm but unflinching. "Because right now, she's hanging onto a thread - hoping you'll come back - waiting for something that might never happen. And if you can't give her your whole heart... if you can't put her first... then please, let her go. Because watching her destroy herself over someone who can't be fully hers? That breaks my heart. And it's killing her, too."

Anger flared hot and sharp in Harry's chest. How dare he? He didn't know everything. He didn't know the lies, the secrets, the tangled mess that had become their lives. He didn't know that Harry had a son who needed him too - a little boy who was just learning his face, who was building a life that Harry had missed out on for years. That his heart was pulled in two directions, tearing him apart piece by piece.

"My son needs me too," Harry said, his voice cracking with the weight of it. "I can't just... drop everything. There are responsibilities. People who depend on me."

Andrei looked at him - really looked at him - with eyes that saw far too much.

"That's exactly why this choice matters so much," he said softly. "Because you can't be in two places at once. You can't keep her in limbo, waiting, wasting away, while you build a life somewhere else. It's not kind. It's not fair to her. And it's not fair to the woman you're building that life with, either."

He stepped toward the door, pausing with his hand on the handle.

"You have a family waiting for you, Harry. But you also have a wife who's still fighting for you. And you can't have them both. Not really. Not fully. One day soon - maybe even today - you're going to have to decide which one you're willing to break your own heart for."

And then he was gone, leaving Harry alone in the quiet hospital room, staring at the pale face of the woman he loved, realizing with a crushing ache that no matter what he chose... someone was going to get hurt.