Choice of Love

Chapter 10: The Weight of Choices

I couldn't stop thinking about Ethan. His words from the hospital haunted me, playing over and over in my mind. Each time I closed my eyes, I saw the pain etched on his face, the fury in his voice. The guilt had become unbearable, a constant ache in my chest that refused to let me breathe.

Jason had been wonderful—kind, understanding, patient—but even his arms around me couldn't quiet the storm inside. There was a nagging voice in the back of my head that wouldn't go away, a question I couldn't silence: Did I abandon Ethan when he needed me most?

I lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, torn between what my heart wanted and what my conscience demanded. Jason was everything I thought I wanted, but Ethan... he was suffering, and a part of me felt like I was responsible for it.

Could I really leave him behind when he was hurting so badly?

By morning, the guilt had won.

I needed to talk to Ethan.

When I arrived at the hospital, the sterile smell hit me again, making my stomach churn. I walked slowly down the corridor to Ethan's room, rehearsing what I wanted to say, though nothing felt right.

Would he even want to see me? After everything that happened?

I pushed open the door, my heart pounding. Ethan was sitting up in bed, flipping through a book. He looked pale, still recovering from the gunshot wound, but his eyes were sharp as they flicked to me. For a brief moment, something softened in his gaze, but it was quickly replaced by that same bitterness I'd seen before.

"Lesley," he said, his voice cold. "What are you doing here?"

I swallowed, stepping closer. "I... I wanted to see how you were. After everything."

Ethan didn't respond right away. His eyes moved over me, taking in every detail, and I felt the weight of his anger. But beneath that anger, I saw something else—something raw, vulnerable. He looked like someone who had lost everything, and it twisted my heart.

"Why?" he asked finally, his voice softer now. "Why are you here, Lesley? You've already made your choice."

"I don't know," I whispered, looking down at my hands. "I thought I did. But... Ethan, you were hurt, and I can't stop thinking about it. I feel like I... like I abandoned you."

He let out a bitter laugh. "You didn't abandon me, Lesley. You replaced me. With him."

I winced at his words, but I couldn't argue. "I know. I know I hurt you, and I'm sorry. But... you have to understand, I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

"I loved you," he said quietly, his voice breaking. "I still do. And you threw it away like it meant nothing."

My throat tightened, and tears pricked my eyes. "It wasn't nothing, Ethan. I cared about you—I still care about you. That's why I'm here."

He stared at me for a long time, the tension between us thick and painful. Then, slowly, he sighed and closed his eyes, as if the weight of everything had finally crushed him.

"Do you?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Do you care enough to stay?"

His question hung in the air, and my heart clenched painfully. I didn't know how to answer. The truth was, I had chosen Jason because he made me feel alive, free in a way I hadn't felt in so long. But Ethan's pain—his suffering—was unbearable. It gnawed at me, telling me that if I left him now, I'd be the reason he fell apart.

And I couldn't live with that.

"I don't know," I whispered, tears falling. "I don't know if I can just walk away from you, Ethan. Not after everything."

Ethan's eyes opened, and the anger in them had dimmed, replaced by something deeper—hope, maybe, or desperation. "You don't have to walk away," he said softly. "Stay with me. We can fix this. I... I'll be better, Lesley. I'll do whatever it takes."

I hesitated, my heart pounding. This wasn't about love anymore—it was about guilt. I didn't know if I could ever feel the same way about Ethan that I once had, but seeing him broken like this... I couldn't just leave.

"I'll stay," I said, my voice trembling. "I'll stay with you, Ethan."

His face softened, and for the first time in days, I saw a flicker of the Ethan I used to know. He reached out and grabbed my hand, holding it tightly as if he was afraid I'd disappear.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I won't lose you again."

But as I stood there, holding his hand, a deep, aching sadness washed over me. Because I knew, deep down, that this wasn't where I wanted to be. It was where I felt I had to be.

And in that moment, I realized just how heavy the weight of pity could be.