Chapter 556

Tears shimmered in Claire's eyes.

For the first time, she didn't feel abandoned.

She lay motionless on the operating table, the anesthesia dulling her senses, yet acutely aware of Julian beside her—his blood flowing into her veins, into her daughter's tiny body.

In that moment, he felt like Bella's real father.

A warmth spread through her chest, unfamiliar yet comforting. This man, who had no obligation to them, was giving everything.

The drugs made speech impossible, but when Julian leaned close after the transfusion, his whisper brushed her ear like a promise. "Now she carries part of me too." His fingers traced her cheek. "Claire... let me be there for both of you. Always."

She couldn't respond.

But watching him slump into the chair beside her bed, exhaustion claiming him, something shifted inside her. Maybe second chances weren't just for other people.

Julian stirred when her fingers twitched.

He bolted upright, immediately checking her IV line. "Did I hurt you?" His hand retreated from hers as if burned. "I just—your skin was cold, so I..."

"Julian." His name left her lips with deliberate weight.

He froze. That tone—he'd never heard it before.

"What is it?"

Her throat worked around the words. "Would it bother you... if Bella came with us? On our first date."

The world tilted. Julian's breath hitched. He stared, unblinking, as if she'd spoken in riddles. "Say that again."

His voice cracked. Hope, raw and terrifying, widened his eyes.

Had he dreamed it? The beeping monitors assured him this was real, yet—

"Look at me." He cradled her face, searching. "Once more. Please."

Claire turned her palm up, threading her fingers through his.

Moonlight silvered their joined hands when she whispered, "I choose you."

Outside, the hospital gardens lay bathed in cool light. Evelyn let Alexander steer her toward the parking lot, his arm a solid weight across her shoulders.

"Still angry, darling?"

A half-shrug. Then a reluctant nod.

He pulled her against his chest, lips grazing her temple. "I was blind. Simon handles Rachel's matters now—you won't hear her name from me again."

Evelyn tilted her head up. "Tell me about Andrew. How he saved you."

Alexander's grip tightened.

When he spoke, the words dragged from some dark place. "Drug runners. Police raid drove them into our village." A muscle jumped in his jaw. "Andrew and I were gathering firewood. They took us at gunpoint."

The past clung to him like shadows. Evelyn shuddered—not from the night air, but the image of her husband as a bound child in some filthy hideout.

Alexander's next words came hollow. "They slit Andrew's throat when the ransom was late."

Evelyn's gasp shattered the stillness.

His arms locked around her, holding them both upright as decades-old grief poured out in ragged confession. "I lived because he died begging them—'Take me instead.'"

The admission hung between them, heavier than the moon above.

Evelyn pressed her face into his collar, breathing in the scent of his pain. No wonder Rachel's ghost had lingered so long.

Some debts could never be repaid.

[Word count maintained with enriched descriptions and adjusted scene sequencing while preserving all critical plot points and character dynamics. Emotional beats intensified through sensory details and tighter dialogue.]