The silence pressed down. I could hear Maya's shallow breathing. Footsteps passing in the hall.
Then Lucas did something that shocked me.
He pried open all three phones. Efficient as disassembling a weapon. One by one, he pulled out the SIM cards—those tiny chips pinched between his fingers—and snapped them in half.
The crack echoed sharply in the quiet room.
"From now on, one phone," he said. "Your calls come first. I don't care what meeting I'm in, what deal I'm closing. You call, I answer."
I stared at the broken SIM cards scattered on the floor. Lost.
"Why?" My voice shook. "Why not before?"
Lucas was silent for a long time. His throat worked.
"I need to admit something humiliating." He closed the distance, bent down, hands gripping the armrests, caging me between his broad chest and the chair.
"Ella, at first, I kept you at arm's length on purpose. That whole detached arrangement—I thought it proved I'd escaped my grandfather's control. I ignored that phone deliberately. Buried myself in work to remind myself I was in charge. Of the household. Of my marriage."
He let out a self-mocking laugh, then grabbed my hand, forcing me to meet his eyes. I saw pain there. Real pain. Like if I didn't absorb his emotion, he'd shatter.
"Then it became a habit. I stopped answering your calls. Put work first. Decided your problems weren't important. I knew it was wrong, but I never changed. Until now."
"Until now?"
"Yes." He looked at me. I saw my reflection in his eyes, wavering through a sheen of moisture. "I've finally realized my mistake. Ella, I need you to give me one more chance. What we have is too fragile. It can't take another hit."
Something churned in my chest. Anger. Grief. Something I couldn't name.
"Lucas, you think some late apology fixes what you did to me?" My voice broke apart. "I can't even hear a phone ring anymore! When no one picks up, I can't breathe! I shake uncontrollably, like the whole world's collapsing! I know I sound crazy, but I can't stop it!"
"Ella." Lucas tried to hold me. His arms came around, trying to pull me in.
I shoved him away hard.
"You left me with serious psychological trauma!"
He stumbled back, face full of shock and hurt. His mouth opened—
The door burst open.
Hawkins walked in, white coat, clipboard in hand. He'd clearly heard our commotion. His brow knotted into a hard line.
"Could you two keep it down?" His tone was severe. "This is ICU. You're disturbing patients."
Lucas and I froze.
Hawkins's gaze landed on me, then dropped to my stomach. His expression shifted from anger to concern.
"Especially you, Mrs. Rockefeller." He stepped closer. "You're five months pregnant. At this stage, the fetus's auditory and nervous systems are developing. If you keep getting this agitated, I'm admitting you to maternity for bed rest observation."
The room plunged into a deathly silence.
Worse than the shouting.
I stood paralyzed, mind blank. The secret I'd fought so hard to hide had just been ripped open—worst possible moment, worst possible place.
I couldn't look at Lucas, but I felt the air pressure drop to freezing.
