CHAPTER 240: I LEARNED

The bar was dimly lit, the jazz low and slow, like the kind of music that filled silence rather than broke it.

Ethan sat alone at the far end, one hand wrapped around a glass of whiskey. The first sip burned — not enough to drown anything, but just enough to let him feel it. He wasn’t sure why he was here. Maybe to forget. Maybe to feel something else. Or maybe he was just tired of pretending to be the strongest person in every room.

He downed the rest of the drink in one breath. And that’s when she appeared.

Aveline. High heels. Bold eyes. Trouble dressed in confidence.

"Hello there, boss," she purred, throwing her bag lazily onto the table as she slid into the seat beside him like she belonged there. "I saw you on TV. Courtroom hero, tragic headlines. I’ve been surprisingly bored without you."

Ethan didn’t look at her right away.

"What’s your name again?" he asked, voice flat, not even trying to mask his lack of interest.

Aveline gasped, half-laughing. "Ouch. That hurt. You forgot already? I’m Aveline. And after tonight..." She leaned closer, her tone dropping to a seductive whisper. "I’ll make sure you never forget."

She trailed her leg up his calf under the table.

Ethan caught her leg—not roughly, but firmly, as his tired eyes met hers for the first time.

"What do you want, young woman?" he asked. "Money? A title at the firm? Are you looking to climb the ladder?"

Aveline tilted her head, lips curving into a playful smile. "All that’s nice," she said, voice low and sultry. "But I want you. In my bed. Inside me. Just once. No strings. No charges. Just one night. That’s all."

Ethan blinked — not out of temptation, but disbelief.

He could’ve taken her. Right then. He knew that. She was offering herself up with the boldness of someone who thought rejection was impossible.

He could have pinned her to the wall, erased the ache in his chest with heat, rage, lust — the kind of mess he used to bury himself in.

But he didn’t.

He let go of her leg like it was something diseased.

He stood, tossing a few bills on the table.

"Whore yourself to someone else," he said, quietly. "I’ve learned my lesson."

Aveline’s brow twitched. She grabbed his wrist and, without shame, pressed his hand against her chest.

"You sure?" she whispered, lips inches from his. "Every man says no at first."

Ethan didn’t move.

Didn’t flinch.

He only inhaled once — deeply — and looked her straight in the eye.

If he had walked away the first time Maria made a move, maybe both thier story would’ve ended differently, he said to himself, hollow but honest. He won’t make the same mistake twice.

He pulled his hand free.

Turned.

And walked away.

Behind him, Aveline kicked the chair out of her path in frustration, muttering curses under her breath. But he didn’t look back.

Because this time, he was done being the man who let weakness cost lives.

****

The past few days had been anything but easy. A quiet storm had settled over the house—not one of chaos, but of cautious hope and tender exhaustion. Baby Isabella, still fragile and new to her surroundings, was slowly adjusting to her new home. The seizures, thank heavens, had stopped, a mercy Mara clung to like a whispered prayer. But the fever lingered, flaring with the heat of the afternoon sun and cooling only briefly before returning like an unwelcome ghost.

Mara had put everything on pause—her job, her routine, her world—choosing instead to anchor herself in the soft chaos of motherhood. With determined grace, she juggled the demands of the twins and Isabella, pouring her love into every diaper change, every bottle, every lullaby sung at 2 a.m.

Surprisingly, the three little ones were forming a bond stronger than anyone could have expected. Though all under the age of two, they moved around each other with the quiet understanding of old friends, babbling in a language only they seemed to understand—a mix of giggles, half-words, and wide-eyed gestures. It was beautiful to witness, like watching a secret world unfold right in the middle of a tired living room scattered with toys and hope.

****

The meeting with Professor Arlen had been long-awaited, the kind of day circled in red on Mara’s calendar and etched into Steve’s thoughts like a prayer. As they sat across from the professor in his quiet, book-lined office, the tension in the air was thick—until Arlen looked up from the medical report with a rare, unguarded smile.

"I have good news," he began, sliding the results across the desk. "Remarkable news, actually."

Steve held his breath. Mara did too.

"The treatment is working," the professor continued. "The scans show a significant improvement. It’s still early, and there’s a long way to go, but every indicator tells us you’re moving in the right direction."

For a moment, no one spoke. Then Steve exhaled a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, his shoulders dropping, eyes shining. Mara reached for his hand instinctively, squeezing it gently. It was a quiet, powerful gesture—one that spoke of sleepless nights, unwavering hope, and the strength it took to keep believing.

Professor Arlen turned to Mara next, a look of sincere gratitude in his eyes. "None of this would have been possible without the resources you made available, Mara. You gave us what we needed to make a real discovery. What we’re doing here... it could change more than just Steve’s life."

Mara smiled, a genuine curve of relief and pride. "He deserved the chance," she said softly. "You all did."

Steve looked at her then, and for the first time in a long while, his expression was free of fear. "You didn’t give up on me," he said, his voice thick. "Even when I did."

"I never could," she replied. "You’re my brother."

His recovery was still a mountain ahead, but this was the first true foothold. The rest of the Shepherd brothers, when they heard the news, erupted in celebration. There was laughter, there were tears, and for the first time in what felt like forever, there was lightness in the house again.