Chapter 130

Angela POV

I left Sean's hospital room with practiced composure, only allowing myself to falter once I rounded the corner into an empty corridor, my hand reaching out to steady myself against the wall as the reality hit me: Elizabeth was gone, had been gone for three years while I built a new life in Italy.

After regaining my composure, I made my way toward the exit. Just as I stepped outside, a familiar figure caught my eye.

Christopher.

"You're here," I said, unable to hide my surprise.

"I came to find you," Christopher replied, his voice gentle yet determined. "You left the office so suddenly this afternoon. I was worried."

He reached for my hand, his fingers wrapping around my wrist in a gesture that felt both protective and possessive. The warmth of his touch contrasted sharply with the evening chill.

"You didn't need to come," I said, though the words lacked conviction.

Christopher studied me carefully. "Let me drive you home."

I nodded, too emotionally drained to argue.

The drive was wrapped in silence. Christopher occasionally glanced toward me, his concern evident, while I kept my thoughts to myself. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft.

"Thank you," I said, breaking the silence. "For coming to find me."

Christopher's hands tightened slightly on the steering wheel. "Always," he replied, the single word weighted with years of unspoken promises.

We pulled up outside my house. Despite my exhaustion, I remained seated, my seatbelt still fastened, fingers restlessly tracing the leather stitching of the seat.

Christopher leaned toward me, reaching across to release my seatbelt. His cologne enveloped me as the buckle clicked open.

"Come," he said gently. "You need rest."

As we approached the front door, I suddenly stopped.

"Wait," I said. "There's something I need to tell you."

Christopher turned to face me, his expression guarded. "Angela, whatever it is, can't it wait until tomorrow? You've had a difficult day."

"No," I insisted, my voice growing firmer. "I need to say this now."

The moonlight revealed the pain that flashed across his features before he could conceal it. A bitter smile curved his lips.

"Angela, please don't," he said, his voice dropping to a near-whisper.

"It seems you already know what I'm going to say," I replied, forcing myself to meet his gaze directly. "You said you'd give me three days to consider your proposition, but I've made my decision today. We're not right for each other, Christopher."

Christopher's lips pressed into a thin line, the smile vanishing as his expression darkened with undisguised hurt.

"Made your decision today?" he asked, his laugh hollow and brittle. "Or is this about Sean? Are you afraid I'll retaliate against him somehow?"

"No!" I protested quickly. "It's not that at all. The truth is, I don't deserve you, Christopher. You shouldn't waste any more of your life on me."

"You don't deserve me?" Christopher's eyebrows rose, his voice taking on an edge. "Shouldn't I be the judge of that, Angela? If I believe you're worthy, what other objections could you possibly have?"

I looked away, unable to maintain eye contact.

"Or," he continued, his voice growing sharper, "is your real concern Sean? If you didn't visit him in the hospital, would you-"

"Five years," I interrupted, looking up suddenly.

Christopher froze, shock evident in his widened eyes.

"It's been five years," I continued, my voice trembling slightly. "I know how good you've been to me, Christopher. It's not that I haven't tried to return your feelings. I have. But I can't. I've told you before not to be so kind to me because I can't give you what you want."

"And I told you I can't stop," Christopher replied, his voice intense. "I can't stop being good to you. I can't stop watching over you. And I certainly can't bear to see you and Sean together again."

The space between us closed as Christopher moved closer. His arm encircled my waist, drawing me against him. I placed my hand against his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat beneath my palm as I tried to maintain some distance.

"You know it's been five years," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "Five years of me being there for you. If you just say yes, I'll give you everything you could ever want or need. Just name it, and it's yours."

I felt my brow furrow with distress, my breathing growing uneven.

"You don't understand!" I exclaimed, frustration breaking through my composure.

"Then help me understand," Christopher urged, searching my face. "Tell me what I'm missing."

"Your kindness makes me feel guilty because I can't reciprocate," I confessed, my voice cracking. "To be blunt, I don't love you, Christopher. Being with you would only hurt you more. Can't you see that?"

For a moment, he said nothing. Then, with quiet determination: "Angela, I don't care."

The statement left me stunned, my eyes widening in disbelief.

"You can love whoever you want," he continued, desperation edging into his voice. "I just want you by my side. We can be together physically, and I'll be a father to Aria and Ethan. I'll give them the best life possible."

I stared at him, unable to comprehend what he was suggesting. "That's impossible," I whispered.

"Why?" he challenged, his eyes burning with intensity. "I get what I want, you live your life. What's wrong with that arrangement?"

Emotion surged through me, and I pushed against his chest, creating distance between us despite the trembling in my hands.

"It's absurd! Completely impossible," I insisted, my voice rising.

"Angela," Christopher's control fractured, raw emotion breaking through. "You've always rejected me without giving us a real chance. How can you know it won't work if you never try? You didn't even take the full three days to consider-is that fair to me after everything?"

His words struck me like a physical blow. Fair. The concept pierced through my defenses, forcing me to confront the truth of his accusation. Had I ever given Christopher a fair chance?

I closed my eyes, wrestling with the weight of my own actions.

"Three days wasn't enough time?" Christopher asked, his voice softening. "Then take a week. Would that be better?"

The fight drained out of me, leaving only exhaustion and regret. My shoulders sagged with the burden of knowing I was hurting someone who had never been anything but good to me.

Christopher was everything I should want-stable, successful, devoted to me and kind to my children. Yet that essential spark remained absent.

"I'm sorry," I said softly, the inadequacy of the words painfully apparent.

Christopher stood motionless, studying my face. I saw the moment something broke in his expression, before he carefully reconstructed it into one of gentle understanding.

"You must be exhausted after today," he said, his voice carefully controlled. "Go get some rest. We can discuss this another time."

"Christopher, I-" I began, but he gently cut me off.

"Go inside, Angela," he said softly. "The children need you."

As I turned toward the door, I felt the weight of his gaze on my back. The kindness in his final words only deepened my guilt, reminding me that even in rejection, Christopher Blake would never be anything less than the gentleman he had always been.