Chapter 114: To Stay

Maximilian understood something deeper.

Catherine wasn’t just the youngest. She wasn’t simply the sister who arrived late into an already grown family.

She was the last gift their mother had left them.

Mary had lived three years after Catherine was born. Three years of frailty, hospital visits, and whispered conversations behind doors.

And in every single one of those years, she had made one thing clear.

This girl is precious. This girl is my heart walking outside my body. Take care of her. Love her. Protect her.

She had repeated it so often that it had become law. She imprinted it in their hearts, so deeply, they all came together with one heart… as a family.

So when Mary was gone… Catherine wasn’t just a sibling. She was their mother’s legacy, memory, and promise.

Of course, they guarded her like treasure.

Dorothy studied him quietly. “I can see you’re important to her,” she said.

Maximilian didn’t look away. “I intend to be.”

Her eyes sharpened. “Then understand something, young man. You’re not just choosing a woman.”

He already knew.

“You’re choosing all of them.”

He nodded. It didn’t frighten him. It humbled him. Because this time, he didn’t want to conquer a family.

He wanted to earn his place in it.

***

He walked in and knelt by her side. Her hand was out of the blanket, and he saw the bracelet twinkling around her wrist.

He pressed his lips as his finger gently trailed over her hand.

He thought about the way Catherine had squeezed his hand when the surgeon spoke, the way she had leaned into him without hesitation, and the way her body had trusted him before her mind caught up.

She needed him beside her. Just his presence.

And that realization sliced deeper than Dorothy’s warning ever could.

Because she had needed him before, in their past life, when her mother died. And he had not stayed.

He stayed hidden.

He had gone to see her in the dead of night like a coward, unable to face the household in daylight. He had stood in shadows instead of walking through the front doors.

He told himself he was protecting her, told himself that appearances mattered, and told himself that the timing wasn’t right.

He thought he had done so much for her afterward — maneuvered politics, made sacrifices, fought battles in silence.

But none of it mattered.

Because when she needed him most… When she was a daughter mourning the woman she loved beyond measure… He refused to stand openly at her side.

He had been afraid. Afraid of what the court would whisper, what her father would say, and of looking weak.

And in choosing pride, he had abandoned her.

If he had stayed then… If he had simply walked beside her in broad daylight and taken the criticism… Their lives might have turned differently.

He could have earned forgiveness early, because she had never stopped loving him.

Not once. Even after betrayal, even after distance, and even when their world collapsed… She loved him until the very end.

And even at the edge of losing her… He had still clung to pride, afraid of shame, and clung to his own wounded ego instead of correcting the one mistake that mattered.

To stay.

It had been so simple.

He had failed.

He went looking for the bracelet, when she needed him by his side. He left her to handle everything by herself, when she needed someone by her side.

Maximilian looked at Catherine, whose face was peaceful in sleep.

This time, he was not hiding. This time, he would stand by her side, in the light, in front of her brothers, and in front of the world.

If she leaned, he would be there.

If she grieved, he would stay.

No more pride. No more fear. Just presence.

And he silently vowed… He would not fail her twice.

—–

Catherine stirred slowly.

For a few disoriented seconds, she didn’t know where she was. The lighting was dimmer. The air colder. A steady mechanical rhythm filled the silence.

Beep…Beep… Beep…

Her eyes focused. She was in the ICU.

Daddy!

She turned her head sharply toward the hospital bed.

James lay still, oxygen mask in place, monitors glowing green. The readings were steady, and stronger than before. The rise and fall of his chest was even.

Relief washed through her again, quieter this time, less frantic. It wouldn’t be long now before he woke up.

She shifted in the recliner… And felt a tug at her skirt. Her brows knit as she looked down.

Maximilian.

He was sitting on the floor, back leaning awkwardly against the side of her recliner, long legs folded to fit the cramped space. One hand was loosely clutching the fabric of her skirt, as if at some point in the night he had needed to make sure she hadn’t disappeared.

He was asleep, deeply. His head tilted at an uncomfortable angle. His shoulders were slightly hunched. He had made all of his seven-foot frame smaller, just to stay close.

Her heart skipped.

What was he doing sleeping like that?

A flicker of worry crossed her face. But then she studied him more carefully.

There were faint shadows under his eyes. His usually composed expression softened completely in sleep. He looked younger. Less guarded.

He had been exhausted too.

And yet… He stayed.

The whole day… she hadn’t once searched for him in panic, because he had always been there.

When she stood, he stood. When she swayed, he steadied her. When she nearly broke, he sat beside her without speaking.

She didn’t ask. He simply… remained.

Like air.

And maybe… Maybe she was not ready to admit it fully, but… he felt like the air she breathed.

Her fingers moved before she could stop them, reaching toward his head, slumped so uncomfortably.

Maximilian…

Her heart whispered his name first. Her lips trembled, almost forming the sound.

But before her fingers could touch him… Her gaze fell to her wrist.

The bracelet.

A symbol of a promise broken.

A symbol of pain.

A symbol of the life where fate intervened the moment she chose him aloud.

The moment she called his name, the moment she showed him how much she wanted him… separation had followed.

Her hand trembled.

Slowly… She pulled it back.

Their past life… She had been furious at him for not choosing her.

But in quiet moments, she had thought about it.

If her mother had stood before her with a dagger, if the choice was immediate danger to her loved one versus her love who was at a distance and safe, would she have chosen differently than Maximilian did?

No.

She would have chosen her mother, too.

Human instinct always acts on the present threat and silences future fear, in the moment.

She couldn’t entirely blame him for sealing the lies. But…

Her throat tightened.

“Why weren’t you with me after?”

Her jaw trembled as she whispered so softly that even she barely heard it.

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