Chapter 304

3 hours later:

Mrs. Sinclair had been standing in the corridor for nearly five minutes when she finally understood that she might not be allowed to see her son.

She had arrived without informing him.

She had not called ahead or sent an assistant to arrange the visit. The hospital called her an hour ago, saying her son was in the hospital.

She stood outside the hospital room, looking through the narrow glass panel at a young woman lying motionless beneath a white blanket.

Kylie Benneth.

The woman whose name had become a point of contention between them long before the situation had reached this terrible place.

She had spent years believing she understood her son.

She knew his ambition, his temper, his intelligence, and his ruthlessness. Or at least, she had once believed she did.

But she had never seen him like this.

She had never seen him so frightened of losing something that he could not replace. And she had never understood how much she had already lost.

Through the glass, she watched him sit beside Kylie. He was holding the young woman’s hand.

His shoulders were bent forward, and his expression was exhausted. He looked older than he had the last time she saw him.

Her gaze moved to Kylie. She had judged her from a distance. She had called her temporary.

She had dismissed her as someone Christian would eventually grow tired of.

She had convinced herself that Kylie was a distraction, a woman who would take what she could from her son and leave him with a mess to clean up.

It had been easier to believe that than to acknowledge the possibility that Christian had found something real.

Mrs. Sinclair closed her eyes.

She couldn’t undo what had happened.

She opened her eyes.

Inside the room, Emilia turned her head toward the door. Their gazes met through the glass.

Emilia’s expression changed.

She looked at Mrs. Sinclair for a moment, then turned toward Christian.

He was looking down at Kylie, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

Emilia touched his arm. “Christian.”

He didn’t look up.

“What is it?”

She hesitated. Then she glanced at the door.

Christian followed her gaze.

The moment he saw his mother, his face closed. His shoulders stiffened, and his jaw tightened.

The hand holding Kylie’s became still.

He simply turned his face away.

Christian glanced toward the nurse who had just entered the room.

“Please close the blinds.”

The nurse looked between him and the woman standing outside. “Sir?”

“Close it.”

His voice was quiet.

It left no room for argument.

The nurse’s expression became apologetic.

She glanced at Mrs. Sinclair, then stepped toward the door.

Mrs. Sinclair didn’t move.

She watched the nurse reach for the handle. And then she heard her son speak again.

“Now, please.”

The binds began to close.

For one horrible second, Mrs. Sinclair stood there, staring at the narrowing gap.

She could see Christian’s profile.

The binds was almost shut when she finally found her voice. “Christian.”

The nurse paused.

Christian didn’t move.

Mrs. Sinclair swallowed. “Christian, please.” She stepped forward. “I just need to see her.”

The nurse looked at her helplessly.

Inside the room, Christian’s eyes closed. A current seemed to travel down his spine.

She sounded afraid. And beneath the fear was something he had spent years wanting from her.

Regret.

“I just need to see her,” she repeated from the corridor. Her voice trembled. “Please, Christian.”

He stared at the floor. His fingers tightened around Kylie’s hand.

The nurse looked at him.

He could feel her waiting. He could feel Emilia watching him, too. He wanted to be angry enough that it didn’t matter.

But the truth was that hearing her beg hurt in a place he had spent years trying to convince himself no longer existed.

He had been her son before he was a Sinclair. Before the money. Before the name. Before the expectations.

He had been a little boy who wanted his mother to be proud of him.

A boy who had once believed that if he did everything right, she would look at him and see more than the future she had planned.

“Christian,” she called again. “I know you’re angry with me.”

His jaw tightened.

“I know I have no right to ask you for anything.”

He stared at Kylie’s still face.

“But please.” Her voice broke. “Please, let me see her.”

The nurse’s hand remained on the door.

Christian drew a slow breath. He looked at Emilia.

She didn’t tell him what to do. She didn’t plead on his mother’s behalf or try to persuade him that this was the right thing.

She simply watched him, her expression gentle and sad.

The decision was his. It had to be.

Christian looked toward the door.bFor several seconds, he couldn’t speak. Then he said, “Let her in.”

The nurse opened the door again.

Mrs. Sinclair stood on the other side, her eyes shining with tears.

She looked at Christian.

He didn’t move toward her. He simply turned back toward Kylie.

She entered quietly.

The door closed behind her. For a moment, Mrs. Sinclair stood near it, uncertain what to do with her hands.

Kylie lay in the bed, motionless beneath the white blanket. The monitor beside her recorded every heartbeat.

Mrs. Sinclair could see the rise and fall of her chest.

She was alive.

She had been told that the operation had been successful. She had been told that the young woman was stable.

But seeing her like this was different.

“Christian.”

He didn’t answer.

She took a small step forward. “I heard what happened.”

Mrs. Sinclair swallowed. “I was so frightened when I heard.”

Christian’s mouth tightened. A muscle moving in his jaw.

She knew him well enough to recognise when he was holding something back.

Once, she would have pushed.

She would have demanded that he look at her, reminded him that she was his mother, and told him that he had no reason to treat her like a stranger.

She lowered her eyes. “I’m sorry for everything.”

The words came out softly.

Christian went still.

Mrs. Sinclair looked at her hands. “I’m sorry for what I said about her.”

The monitor continued its steady rhythm.

“I’m sorry for the way I spoke about your relationship. I’m sorry I treated her as though she were an inconvenience, someone you would eventually outgrow.”

She swallowed. “I was wrong.”

Christian finally looked at her.

It was only a glance. But she saw the disbelief in his eyes.

She couldn’t blame him.

She had taught him not to trust apologies.

She had done that to him so many times that she had no right to expect him to believe her now.

“I know you may not believe me,” she continued. “I know I’ve said things before and then gone back to behaving as though nothing had happened.”

Her fingers curled together. “I know I’ve hurt you.”

Christian looked away.

She pressed her lips together.

His expression hardened.

She noticed and shook her head quickly. She took another breath.

“I thought I knew what your life should look like. I thought I knew what would make you happy, what kind of woman you should be with, what kind of family you should build. I thought that if I could keep you close to the Sinclair name, you would never have to struggle the way I did.”

She paused.

“But I stopped listening to you.”

Christian’s eyes remained on the bed.

Mrs. Sinclair’s voice trembled.

“I stopped seeing you as my son and started seeing you as someone who needed to be guided back to the life I had chosen for him.”

She looked at him. “And when you refused, I punished you for it.”

The admission seemed to cost her something.

She drew a shaky breath. “I am sorry.”

Christian’s fingers moved over Kylie’s hand.

For a moment, Mrs. Sinclair thought he might speak.

He didn’t.

She looked at Kylie. “I don’t know if she can hear me.”

Christian’s expression shifted.

He finally parted his lips. “Sometimes they say people can hear things even when they can’t respond,” he said quietly.

It was the first thing he had said to her since she entered the room.

Mrs. Sinclair nodded. “Then I hope she can.”

She stepped closer to the bed.

“I’m sorry, Kylie.”

Her voice softened.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me. I don’t expect you to trust me. I know I haven’t given you a reason to do either.”

She looked at the young woman’s face. “But I am sorry.”

She paused.

“You didn’t deserve the things I said about you.”

She glanced at Christian.

He was staring at her now. His face was unreadable.

Mrs. Sinclair looked back at Kylie.

“I hope you wake up soon.”

Her voice broke. She took another breath. “And if you decide that you never want me near you, I will respect that.”

Christian’s gaze sharpened.

Mrs. Sinclair turned toward him. She looked down. “I only want the chance to do better.”

The room seemed very quiet.

Christian watched her for a long time.

He had imagined an apology from his mother before. More times than he wanted to admit.

He had imagined her acknowledging that she had hurt him. He had imagined her admitting that she had mistaken control for love, that she had used the family name to make him feel as though his worth depended on obedience.

He should have felt relieved. Instead, he felt tired. He looked at her. “Why now?”

Mrs. Sinclair’s face crumpled.

Christian regretted the question as soon as he asked it, but he couldn’t take it back. “Why now, Mum?”

His voice was quiet.

“Why did it take this for you to come here and tell me you were wrong?”

She closed her eyes. “I don’t know how to answer that.” Mrs. Sinclair’s mouth trembled. “I thought you would come back.”

He stared at her.

She lowered her head.

“I thought you would calm down. I thought you would realise that I was trying to protect you. I thought that once you had time to think about everything you were giving up, you would understand why I had been so insistent.”

She swallowed. “I thought you would come home.”

Christian looked at the floor. “That was never home to me.”

His voice grew rough.

“You don’t know what it was like to grow up feeling as though every decision I made was another test I had to pass to deserve your approval.”

Mrs. Sinclair’s eyes filled.

Christian looked away. “I spent years trying to become the son you wanted me to be.”

He swallowed. His fingers tightened around Kylie’s hand.

“And when I finally chose something for myself, you treated it like a betrayal.”

Mrs. Sinclair drew a breath.

“I don’t know if I fully understand what I did to you. I know I hurt you. I know I made you feel as though my love depended on whether you obeyed me.”

Her voice shook. “But I don’t want to keep doing that.”

She took a small step closer.

“I don’t want to spend the rest of my life waiting for you to become the person I imagined, when the person you are is standing right in front of me.”