No, it was so much more destructive than that—it was love.
Love.
I wasn't accustomed to using the word and associating myself with it, no more than I was used to feeling something close to it. But here I was, wallowing in this unfamiliar emotion since realizing what Ava meant to me. It was painful and all-consuming. It was beyond me how normal people dealt with it or embraced it with such fervor. To me, it was an express train to hell, discontent and abject misery.
"Welcome to hell then, Hugo," I ruefully told myself.
Despite my best efforts to prevent any emotions akin to love from ever penetrating my shell, it had managed to pierce through. Keeping my distance from Ava didn’t help; pushing her away made it worse and now being so close to her just made it even more unbearable.
There was simply no way to compartmentalize my feelings for her. While I could no longer deny that what I felt for Ava was more than affection, she had been the one who decided to give up on me. Not that I could blame her. I’d shown her my ugly side way more than was acceptable.
I drank a couple more glasses and once I dragged myself out of my office, I was just inebriated enough to pad softly to Ava's room. Opening the door carefully, I found her sleeping peacefully, her face serene and calm, a far cry from the turmoil that was my own.
I looked at her silently and couldn’t stop myself from touching her cheek.
I shouldn’t keep torturing her that way, asking her every day to stay here, and hearing her say no with sadness written all over her face. I had no more cards to play, no more tricks. This was my last hand.
If you love someone, set her free... If she comes back, she's yours. If she doesn't, she never was.
Deep sorrow settled into me as I looked at her, lost in her dreams. I had to honor her wish. It was my penance for all the pain I caused her and Ethan. I had to stop making it hard on her until I could ask her one final time to reconsider and stay.
"Come back to me, Ava,” I whispered before closing her door softly and going to bed.
“Move to the estate,” I said as soon as Ethan answered the phone and before I could change my drunken decision from the previous night.
“God, is that you?” Ethan asked with a high-pitched voice, making me wince as it took my migraine to another level. “It sure can’t be my brother who has not called me in six years.”
“You never gave me your number,” I reminded him.
“And yet, here you are.”
“Ethan…” I sighed, looking out of my office at Ava’s empty desk.
“You want me to move in with you so we can be a big, happy family?”
“No, I want you to move there to take care of her as I move back to my penthouse in town.”
Ethan was silent for a second, so unlike him.
“Ethan?”
“So she was right, huh? You’re tired of all this already.”
I frowned—did I hear a hint of disappointment in his voice?
“Did you think I would step up?” I asked challengingly. We both knew his opinion of me could not be lower than it already was.
“Actually, yes, I did. Does it make me a fool?”
Probably.And yet a part of me somehow warmed at the fact that my brother still had some hope for me.
“She doesn’t want me around. No matter what I try it only seems to distress her more,” I admitted and it was humbling to say it out loud, especially to him.
"Do you regret it now, Hugo? Doing what you did? Manipulating Ava and I in your sick little vendetta? Do you regret hurting her?"
"Regrets? I never had any regrets. Regret is a senseless word that was made to correct human error." I let out a little sigh. "Until now. I have succumbed to an error far worse than I could ever imagine. I didn’t realize what Ava could potentially mean to me, or maybe I did and I did everything to destroy it because contrary to what you may think, I am ruthless but I’m seldomly cruel. I didn’t realize I would fall in love." I never would have expected to admit my true feelings to my estranged brother but I felt somehow relieved at finally giving voice to my emotions.
"Why don't you tell her?" Ethan asked, his tone unexpectedly softer.