Night had already fallen by the time Maximus Anderson arrived.

Rose Harrison lay in bed, the IV drip clicking rhythmically, her gaze fixed blankly on the pitch-black sky outside.

Maximus stood at the threshold, watching her for a long time. He didn't dare enter. He felt a deep, instinctive guilt—a suffocating weight for failing to protect her. But he was also haunted by another fear: his previous words must have led her to a terrible misunderstanding. She must be absolutely shattered.

A nurse walked in to swap out the saline bag. She caught sight of the handsome, brooding figure hovering by the door, her eyes widening in admiration. She whispered, shyly, "Who are you? Aren't you coming in?"

The sudden voice startled Maximus. He blinked, pulled out of his daze by the nurse’s shimmering gaze, and immediately averted his eyes. He didn't answer, merely stepping aside to let her pass.

Rose turned at the sound of the voices, her eyes colliding with Maximus’s turbulent, shadowed stare.

The nurse quickly regained her composure, embarrassed for lingering on the man’s looks. She pulled the IV needle from Rose’s hand with practiced efficiency. "Remember to get some sleep," she murmured, offering a soft reminder. "And press the call button if you need anything." She hurried out, unable to hide the deep flush creeping up to her ears.

"Rose," Maximus murmured, his voice cracking. He stepped toward the bed, reaching out to take her hand.

Rose recoiled, pulling her hand away as if burned. Her voice was cold, stripped of any warmth. "Why are you here? Now that you’ve used me for everything you wanted, is there any value left to wring out?"

"Rose, it's not like that—" Maximus started, his voice thick with urgency.

"Enough. Don't say another word." Rose cut him off. She locked eyes with him, her gaze piercing. "Maximus, let’s get a divorce."

She was done. Her heart had been torn to shreds until there was nothing left but jagged edges. She was battered, broken, and completely hollowed out. Divorce—that was the only way to end this. She never wanted to hear a single thing about Maximus or Delilah Kelly ever again.

Divorce. The word hit Maximus like a lightning strike. He had imagined a dozen scenarios: her screaming, her sobbing, her throwing things. But he had never, not once, prepared for the finality of the word *divorce*.

"No, Rose, don't be impulsive. Just listen to me," Maximus panicked. He lunged forward to grab her hands, shaking his head, desperate to deny the reality of what she had said.

"Impulsive? You want me to listen to your excuses?" Rose let out a hollow laugh. "Give it a rest. Maximus, I’m tired. I have nothing left to give, and no love left to burn. Let’s just end it. I’ll let you go. Whether you get engaged to Delilah, or marry her, or move to the ends of the earth—I don't care. Now, let me go, too. I’m already ruined."

"No," Maximus gasped, his head shaking violently. He couldn't suppress the raw, stinging pain in his throat as he sobbed, "Rose, please don't. I don't want a divorce. Just hear me out—everything you heard, it was a lie. It wasn't like that..."

"Right, a lie." Tears spilled from Rose’s eyes, hot and uncontrollable. She struggled against his grip, trying to rip herself away from him. She screamed, "The sweet talk? A lie. The promises to stay together forever? A lie. The honeymoon? A lie! You’re nothing but a liar, Maximus!"

"Rose, I was wrong. It’s all my fault. I’m a liar, but please, we can’t get divorced. Please." Maximus loosened his grip, terrified he might hurt her, and fell to his knees in his desperation to plead for another chance.