Chapter 61

FREYA

After that conversation—or, more accurately, non-conversation—with Aiden, sleep didn't come easily. He'd shut me down completely, every single time. For some reason, he wouldn't let me in. I could feel the walls he'd built around himself, sturdy and impenetrable. I was trying so hard to respect his boundaries, to honor whatever distance he needed, but it stung. I couldn't help but feel disappointed that he refused to share his life with me, especially when he knew everything about mine. It left a bitter ache in my chest, a dull throb that refused to quiet. Why couldn't he let me in the way I had let him into my world?

I tossed and turned, my mind buzzing with all the things left unsaid. I couldn't pinpoint exactly what was bothering me, but the weight of it pressed down on me with every restless shift. Eventually, exhaustion overtook me, and I finally drifted into an uneasy, brief sleep. The sound of Aiden's phone ringing jerked me awake. Who the hell was calling at this hour?

I rubbed my eyes, squinting into the darkness, trying to make sense of the situation. Aiden's voice, low and tight, broke through the fog of sleep, his words clipped with irritation.

"What?" I heard him bark into the phone, his tone rough, as if something had already set him off.

"Stop shouting and tell me what's the matter," he gritted out. I turned to find him sitting up. I couldn't see his expression, but his posture was stiff, his shoulders taut with tension. Whatever it was couldn't be good. His side of the conversation sounded clipped and strained. "That's my fucking decision," he growled. There was shouting on the other end, muffled but frantic. He went silent for a full minute, his fingers flexing around the phone as though he were trying to hold onto something, anything, to keep himself from losing control.

"Greenleaf Memorial?" I froze. The words made me sit up straight. A hospital. My pulse quickened. The fog of sleep was gone. I watched as Aiden ended the call, his movements stiff and jerky, as though every action took more energy than he had to give. A heavy sigh, laden with defeat, escaped him.

"Hey, what's wrong?" I couldn't keep the worry out of my tone, especially given his silence.

"Aiden. Whose call was it?" I asked again, trying to catch his gaze. He stared down at his hands, his jaw clenching.

"Cillian," he answered. Why was he calling so late? It had to be an emergency.

"You mentioned the hospital," I whispered, a cold twist of dread tightening in my stomach. "Is he okay?" Something in his demeanor told me this wasn't a simple situation.

"Yeah. It's my mother," Aiden said, each word sharp and heavy. "She had a cardiac arrest."

"Oh my God!" I whispered, not knowing what else to say.

Aiden ran a hand through his hair, clearly agitated but maintaining composure. He was already standing, moving toward the door as though preparing for something he didn't want to face.

"Okay," I said, pushing myself off the bed. "We have to go. I'll get ready in five minutes. We can leave then."

Aiden protested. "No. You don't have to. You should stay with Gia."

I knew where this was coming from. The last time we'd met his family, things had taken a turn for the worse, and he was trying to save me from potential humiliation. But if he thought I was going to leave him alone in this situation, he was sorely mistaken. Besides, his mother was sick and in the hospital. I doubted his father would have the mood or energy to cause a scene.

"Carlos can take care of Gia," I said, standing, my voice firmer than I felt. "Also, I'll call Reyna, see if she can drop by." Gia would probably be a little upset, but this was important.

"No, I'm coming with you." The words slipped out before I could stop them. I wasn't going to let him go through this alone. And I knew some part of him would want me there. He was trying to protect my feelings, but his were on the line. He avoided his family, and whatever his reasons were, I knew they weren't trivial.

He didn't answer at first, his jaw tight, his back still turned. But I could feel the conflict, the struggle between wanting to protect me and needing me there. He relented, giving a small nod.

The forty-minute ride was enveloped in an uneasy silence. I stole a few glances at Aiden, but his face was unreadable. He didn't seem upset—just lost in deep, private thoughts. Whatever was on his mind, I decided to leave it alone. Maybe he needed this moment to himself.

When we reached the hospital, Chris handled the parking. He was an investor there, which explained why the staff straightened up upon our arrival, recognizing him immediately.

"Mr. Knight. I'm assuming you're here for your mother?" The receptionist's voice was warm yet formal, her expression concerned.

"Yes," Aiden's reply was curt.

"She required a coronary bypass graft. She was taken into surgery two hours ago. I can take you to your family."

She led us to a private waiting lounge. Cillian and their father were already there. Cillian was pacing, and I could sense the tension. When he saw us, his eyes flashed with anger.

"Look who decided to join!" he spat. Preston Knight looked up, his gaze traveling from Aiden to me, turning disgusted. He glared at me before looking away.

"What did the doctors say?"

Aiden just looked at him, unmoved, his face unreadable.

"Nothing. They said nothing," Cillian's voice wavered. "She had a major arrest, and the doctors can't say anything right now. She might fucking die in there! Does that make you happy?"

"It should make you happy. You should be fucking ecstatic because you don't give a shit about her," Cillian's voice cracked. "She's dead to you. That's what you said, right? Well, congratulations—you're about to get your fucking wish!"

Aiden's face hardened, but he stayed calm. "Just calm down," he murmured, his tone gentle but unyielding.

"Don't tell me to calm down," Cillian's voice was a roar. "You failed her. She called you. So many times since that dinner. You couldn't bother to pick up any of her calls. You fucking failed her."

The words hung heavy and bitter. I felt like I was intruding. Cillian's voice, shaky and hurt, lingered in the silence. He let out a shaky breath.

"Justdo us all a favor and go away," he hissed. "I'll let you know if she dies."

Aiden remained unmoving. Realizing there was no other way to handle this, I grabbed his arm.

"Come on. We'll wait outside."

He turned abruptly and stormed out. I followed.

Outside, he slowed down. Aiden ran his fingers through his hair, his face crumpling with frustration.

"He doesn't understand," his voice was laced with bitterness. "I only came here for him. He doesn't know how much damage they've done to me. He fucking doesn't know!"

I rested a hand on his arm. "Okay, okay. Just breathe," I murmured.

He closed his eyes, exhaling slowly, but his shoulders remained tense, his jaw tight. "I need to get out of here," he whispered.

"Okay, let's go home."