Chapter 71

Adrian gazed at Ashleigh's fragile form, curled up in the backseat of the sleek black BMW. Her breathing was shallow, her brows occasionally furrowing as she shifted in her sleep, her pale hospital gown clinging to her delicate frame. His eyes lingered over her face, tracing every familiar feature—the soft curve of her lips, the faint shadow beneath her eyes, her slender hand supporting her head. It had been so long since he'd last seen her, and he couldn't tear his gaze away.   The steady rhythm of raindrops against the window and the gentle hum of the car's engine were the only sounds in the silence. Up front, Mr. Turner and the driver remained still, sensing the tension radiating from Adrian. The mood was heavy, laced with unspoken anger that simmered just beneath his composed exterior.   The drive back to the mansion had been filled with Adrian's restrained fury. The sight of Ashleigh in that hospital bed, weakened and vulnerable, had ignited something he hadn't felt in a long time—a fierce, almost primal urge to protect her. He'd barely listened to the doctors' explanations. Instead, he had ordered her immediate discharge, leaving Mr. Turner to handle the paperwork. She needed to be home, in safe hands.   'Boss," Mr. Turner's voice crackled softly through the intercom, breaking Adrian's thoughts. 'The Vice-Chancellor informed us that the incriminating video has been taken down, and the student responsible will face consequences."   Adrian pressed the button to acknowledge Turner with a muted hum, still watching Ashleigh's chest rise and fall, making sure she was breathing. He leaned back, exhaling a quiet sigh of relief when he saw the steady rhythm of her breaths. But the relief was short-lived. His jaw tightened as he looked back out the window, the anger simmering once more.   When they arrived at the mansion, the grand iron gates swung open, and the car rolled to a halt at the front entrance. Mr. Atkinson, the butler, and Susan, one of the housemaids, waited anxiously under the shelter of the portico. Susan's worried eyes were fixed on the tinted windows, her hands clutched together as if in silent prayer.   Mr. Turner opened the back door, and Adrian stepped out, lifting Ashleigh gently into his arms. The staff bowed in respect, but he barely acknowledged them, his focus entirely on the fragile woman in his arms.   'Is her room ready?" he asked Susan, his voice low.   Susan nodded, her eyes darting to Ashleigh, but Adrian didn't linger, striding purposefully through the grand foyer and up the sweeping staircase, ignoring the curious glances from the staff. Each step felt weighted, as if the mansion itself absorbed the tension in the air.   At Ashleigh's room, he laid her carefully on the bed. Susan immediately moved to adjust the pillows and tuck her in, her hands trembling as she fussed over her Madame and Adrian took a step back.   'Sir, the doctor will be here soon," Mr. Atkinson announced quietly from the doorway.   Adrian nodded, but just as he was about to speak, he saw Ashleigh's eyelids flutter open. She looked around, disoriented, her gaze eventually landing on him. Her eyes widened with a mixture of confusion, disbelief, and something deeper—an emotion he couldn't quite name, but felt cut through him like a blade.   Susan clasped Ashleigh's hand, whispering words of comfort, but Ashleigh's focus was on him, her stare unyielding. Feeling the intensity of the moment, Mr. Atkinson gestured to Mr. Turner and Susan, silently urging them to leave. They exited quietly, leaving Adrian and Ashleigh alone in the stillness of the room.   Adrian pulled up a chair and sat by her bedside, his gaze meeting hers. Her eyes were filled with so many unspoken words, but it was her first one that sliced through him.   'You finally came, Mr. Cagliari," she whispered, her voice barely audible, yet loaded with accusation.   He stiffened at the formal address, noting the absence of warmth. 'I came as soon as I heard," he replied, his voice softer than he intended. 'I was in Italy... but I saw what happened."   Ashleigh gave a bitter, quiet laugh, looking away, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. 'So you're here for a brief visit, then?" she murmured, almost to herself, her tone laced with resignation.   Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating.   Ashleigh broke it, her voice stronger now, bitterness edging each word. 'Go ahead, Mr. Cagliari. Say what you always do. Tell me how foolish I am, how immature. You were right all along, weren't you? I have a knack for getting myself into these situations." She met his gaze, her eyes flashing with pain. 'Tell me I deserve this. Isn't that what you think?"   He felt a sharp stab of guilt, but held her gaze, unwilling to look away.   Her hands reached up, gripping his shoulders, her fingers trembling as she searched his face with desperate intensity. 'Where were you, Adrian? When everything was falling apart… where were you?" Her voice broke, rising with each sentence until she was almost shouting, tears spilling down her cheeks. 'Why are you here now?"   The words hit him like blows, one after another, each one carrying the weight of two months worth of abandonment and betrayal. He had convinced himself he was better off without seeing her or dealing with her troubles, that distancing himself was the right thing to do. Yet here he was, unable to an answer her questions due to lack of courage.   Ashleigh's sobs filled the room, raw and unrestrained. Each tear cut him deeper than any accusation she could throw at him, unraveling his carefully constructed walls.   Without thinking, he leaned forward, reaching out to her, his arms wrapping around her shoulders as she buried her face against his chest. She clung to him, her fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt as if afraid he might disappear.   'I'm here now," he whispered, barely recognizing his own voice, thick with emotion.   But even as he held her, guilt gnawed at him. He was too late. He had allowed her to suffer alone, ignoring all the warning signs as it unraveled, and now he was here, offering comfort as if it could erase the past.   Ashleigh finally pulled back, her tear-stained face looking up at him, raw vulnerability etched into her features. Her lips parted, a question forming, but before she could speak, footsteps sounded down the hallway. The door creaked open, and Mr. Turner entered, his expression hesitant.   'Sir, the doctor is here," he said softly, his eyes flicking to Ashleigh with a look of concern.   Adrian hesitated, glancing back at Ashleigh. She looked away, her expression shuttering, walls going back up as she drew her knees to her chest, creating a physical distance between them that felt like a chasm.   He gave her one last look, something unspoken hanging between them, before nodding to Turner. 'Let him in."   As the doctor entered, Adrian stepped back, feeling Ashleigh's gaze following him as he moved toward the door. His hand hovered on the doorknob for a moment longer than necessary, fighting the urge to turn back, but he didn't.  Instead, he walked out, leaving her in the doctor's care, the weight of her tears lingering like a shadow over him.   In that moment, as the door clicked shut, he realized something with chilling clarity: he was no longer in control. The woman he had abandoned, the one he thought he could leave behind was slowly becoming the center of his world.   And he had no idea what to do about it.