I died my husband 23

Chapter 23 

I woke to the steady hum of machines, the sterile scent of antiseptic in the air, and a sof beeping beside my head. My entire body ached, like I’d been pulled from the jaws of something cruel and monstrous. 

For a second, I couldn’t breathe. 

Then it all came back. The rooftop. The wind. Elisa’s twisted smile. Roger’s fury, Gunshots. The struggle, Jarren. His face. The fall. 

I sat up too fast, panic clawing at my chest. “No–no–where-” 

“Hayley” A warm, familiar voice soothed the chaos. “It’s okay. You’re safe.” 

My wide, tear filled eyes landed on Scott 

He was sitting at the edge of my hospital bed, eyes rimmed with fatique but filled with such overwhelming relief, I almost cried just from the look of him. 

“You’re okay,” he whispered, brushing my hair away from my face. “You’re safe. No one will hur you again.” 

My throat tightened. “Roger. Elisa-?” 

He nodded slowly. “Elisa didn’t survive the fall and then Roger was dead.” 

I blinked, unable to process it. A part of me wanted to scream, to cry, to feel something–but all ! felt was… emptiness. Maybe even relief. 

Scott took my hand in his. “They can’t haunt you anymore.” 

I let out a breath, trembling. “And… Jarren?” 

Scott’s jaw tensed for a moment before he spoke. 

“He’s alive. He saved you, Hayley.” His voice was careful. “But the fall… he broke several bones The doctors said he might not walk again.” 

I didn’t know what to say. My heart twisted–but not in sorrow. In confusion. He had saved me, yes. But that didn’t erase what he had done before. The pain. The deaths. The years I spent in fear. 

As I tried to find my voice, the door opened. Aurora stepped in quietly, holding a bouquet of white tulips. 

“Hey,” she said softly. 

I didn’t know what I expected–anger, coldness, blame–but not this warmth. 

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered immediately. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I didn’t want any of this. I didn’t” 

She crossed the room and set the flowers beside my bed. “You don’t need to apologize.” 

Tears welled up in my eyes. “You lost people because of me.” 

Aurora sat beside me, reaching out to hold my hand. “No. I lost people because of choices they made. Not you.” 

I didn’t know how to thank her for that kindness. She squeezed my hand gently. 

Eleventh Time I died. 

“I’ll make sure Jarren stays away from you,” she said softly. “You don’t owe him anything.” 

I nodded slowly. 

Aurora stood, her expression soft. “This might be the last time we see each other, Hayley. But hope you live now. Really live.” 

My lips trembled. “I hope so too.” 

She gave me a small smile and walked away without another word. 

A few days later, I was discharged. As I stood in the hospital corridor in fresh clothes, holding a small bouquet of flowers for Jarren, I felt hollow. I sent them to his room through a nurse. No note. 

Just flowers. 

That was all I had left for him. 

Scott drove me home; hand steady on the wheel, glancing at me every now and then as if to make sure I wouldn’t vanish again. 

The villa looked the same, but it felt different now. It felt like peace. 

I wandered through the rooms, touched the walls, stood barefoot on the cool tile, and breathed in the quiet. 

Jarren had saved me–but it didn’t undo what he had done. The fear. The manipulation. It was a complicated knot in my heart, but strangely… I didn’t feel guilt. Not anymore. 

Later that night, as I curled into Scott’s side on the couch, watching the ocean from the glass windows, I let myself feel warm again. Whole again. 

“Thank you for finding me,” I whispered. 

His arms tightened around me. “I’d find you in every lifetime, Hayley.” 

We stayed like that for hours. No more running. No more shadows. Just us. Just healing. 

Days passed, then weeks. I settled into routine again. Laughter returned to my voice. The bruises faded, though the nightmares still came sometimes–but they grew less frequent, and Scott was always there when I woke. 

Then one morning, I stood in the bathroom, staring down at the little stick in my hand. 

Two lines. 

I covered my mouth with trembling fingers. 

Pregnant. 

A laugh slipped from my lips, shaky and full of disbelief. 

I walked out into the kitchen where Scott was making coffee. 

He looked up, smiled. “You’re glowing this morning.” 

I crossed to him, slipped the test onto the counter. 

He stared, eyes wide. “Is this…?” 

I nodded, tears welling up. “We’re having a baby.” 

Scott pulled me into his arms, breath catching in his throat. He kissed my forehead, then my cheeks, then my lips, like he couldn’t believe I was real. 

Chapter 22