Vanished Hearts

Esmeralda

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The news played on a loop in their Crystal Cove living room, each replay of the crash making Esmeralda's chest tighter.

"Internal injuries... currently stable... unconscious..." The reporter's voice faded into background noise as she stared at the footage. The mangled luxury car, the rain-slicked coastal road, the headlines scrolling beneath: "Vale Industries CEO in Critical Condition."

"You're going to wear a hole in the floor," Penny observed from the couch, watching Esmeralda pace. In the next room, Luca was still sleeping, exhausted from their hasty departure from Ravencrest.

"I can't just..." Esmeralda stopped, running a hand through her hair. "He was looking for me. He was only on that road because—"

"Because he made his own choices," Penny finished firmly. "Just like you did three years ago."

But it wasn't that simple. The image of Alex at Ravencrest haunted her—dishevelled, wearing his wedding ring, looking nothing like the controlled man she'd married. And now...

"My lawyer can have new divorce papers drawn up," she said suddenly. "If he's conscious, maybe..."

"You want to ask him to sign divorce papers while he's in a hospital bed?" Penny's tone was carefully neutral.

"I want..." What did she want? To clear her conscience? To finally sever the last tie between them? Or to understand why he'd never signed the original papers she'd sent three years ago?

"Go," Penny said after a moment. "I'll stay with Luca. He'll be confused enough waking up in a new place. Better to have at least one familiar face here."

Esmeralda turned to her friend. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure that you'll regret it if you don't go." Penny's eyes softened. "Besides, you're right about one thing—this might be your best chance to finally end things properly."

The drive to Blackwood Memorial felt both too long and too short. Her lawyer had promised to email the papers directly to her phone—a digital copy would have to do for now. Every news update had painted an increasingly dramatic picture: Vale Industries' CEO in critical condition, internal injuries, unconscious. Her hands tightened on the steering wheel, guilt and anxiety warring in her chest.

The hospital's private wing was exactly as imposing as she'd expected. Her heart thundered as she approached the nurses' station, aware of how easily Alex's security might recognize her.

"I'm here to see Alexander Vale," she said quietly, fighting to keep her voice steady.

The nurse barely glanced up. "Family only."

"I'm his wife."

The words felt strange on her tongue after three years of silence. The nurse's head snapped up, eyes widening with recognition. Of course—Alex's dramatic announcement at the gala would have made the rounds by now.

"Mrs. Vale—"

"Moreau," she corrected automatically. "Esmeralda Moreau."

But the nurse was already reaching for the phone, probably to alert security. Esmeralda braced herself for the confrontation, but a familiar voice cut through the tension.

"Let her through."

She turned to find Alex's personal physician, Dr. Louis Reginald, approaching. The older man's expression was unreadable as he gestured for her to follow.

"The media reports were... enthusiastic," he said as they walked. "But you should see for yourself."

He pushed open the door to a private room, and Esmeralda stopped short.

Alex sat propped up in bed, looking irritated but very much conscious. A few scratches marred his face, and his left arm was bandaged, but otherwise...

"The news said you were dying," she blurted before she could stop herself.

His head snapped up, storm-grey eyes widening at her presence. For a moment, neither spoke. Then:

"The media always did have a flair for dramatics," he said quietly, his voice hoarse but strong. "Though I have to admit, it got you here."

Anger flared, cutting through her concern. "You mean you let them exaggerate? Let everyone think—"

"I didn't correct their assumptions," he cut in, his eyes never leaving her face. "Not when it might bring you back."

Dr. Reginald cleared his throat. "I'll give you two some privacy. But Mr. Vale, remember what we discussed about keeping your blood pressure stable."

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving them alone. The silence stretched, heavy with three years of unspoken words.

"That dress suits you," Alex said suddenly, nodding at her cream silk dress. "Different from your usual literary professor look."

"People change." She moved to the window, needing distance from his too-observant gaze. "Though I see you haven't. Still manipulating situations to get what you want."

"Says the woman who disappeared without a trace." There was a hint of their old banter in his tone. "Tell me, did you enjoy watching me search every library and university in the country?"

She turned, catching an almost amused glint in his eyes. "You were looking in the wrong places."

"Clearly." His lips quirked slightly. "The tech entrepreneur angle was... unexpected. Though I have to admit, it's impressive."

"Don't." She crossed her arms. "Don't try to charm your way out of this. You let me think you were dying."

"I merely took advantage of the media's tendency to exaggerate." He adjusted his position, wincing slightly. "Though the car is unfortunately beyond repair."

"Your precious Aston Martin?" The words slipped out before she could stop them, remembering how much he'd loved that car.

"You remember." Something softened in his expression.

"You look tired," he observed after a moment, his tone gentler than she remembered. "Have you slept since the gala?"

The sudden shift in conversation, the genuine concern in his voice, made her defences rise. "Don't. Don't act like you care when you—" She stopped, drawing in a sharp breath. "My lawyer is sending over new divorce papers."

The almost playful atmosphere evaporated instantly. Something dark flickered in his eyes. "Is that why you came? To finally end what I wouldn't?"

"Why didn't you sign them?" The question burst from her, raw and demanding. "Three years ago, why didn't you just sign the papers and let me go?"

Alex shifted in the hospital bed, wincing slightly. Even with minor injuries, he managed to look commanding. "You know why."

"No, I don't!" Her voice rose despite herself. "You kept our marriage a secret for two years, never acknowledged me in public, and then suddenly at the gala you announce to everyone that I'm your wife? What changed, Alex? What game are you playing?"

"Game?" Something dangerous flashed in his eyes. "Is that what you think this is?"

"What else could it be? You made the rules very clear from the beginning. Our marriage was to be private, hidden. No public appearances, no acknowledgment. I accepted that. But now—"

"Now what?" He leaned forward, despite the obvious discomfort it caused. "Now I'm tired of pretending? Now I'm done watching you build a new life from afar? Or maybe, Esmeralda, I'm just done letting you run."

"I didn't run," she shot back, even as her heart raced at his intensity. "I left because I knew I was just a replacement. A convenient stand-in until your first love returned. Juliette told me—"

"Juliette?" His laugh was harsh. "You left our marriage because of something your stepsister said?"

"I left because it was true!" The words tore from her throat, years of hurt spilling out. "The ring shopping, the secret meetings—"

"The ring was for you!" His voice thundered through the room, making her step back. "Every secret meeting was about finding a way to protect you once our marriage became public. I was trying to—" He stopped abruptly, pressing a hand to his head.

The monitors beside his bed began beeping more rapidly. Esmeralda moved forward instinctively, concern overriding her anger.

"Alex?"

"I'm fine," he ground out, but his face had gone pale. "Just... give me a moment."

She should step back. Should maintain her distance. Instead, she found herself reaching for the water glass beside his bed. "Here."

His fingers brushed hers as he took the glass, and the familiar electricity shot through her. Their eyes met, and suddenly she couldn't breathe.

"I never wanted a replacement, Esmeralda," he said softly. "I never wanted anyone but—"

The room spun suddenly, black spots dancing in her vision. The last thing she heard was Alex calling her name as the floor rushed up to meet her.

"Esmeralda!"

Alex's voice seemed to come from far away. She was vaguely aware of movement—him trying to reach her despite his injuries, the monitors screaming in protest, his hand catching her arm as she swayed.

"Dr. Reginald!" The commanding tone she remembered so well, but edged with something that sounded like fear. "Someone get—"

The darkness claimed her before she could hear the rest.

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