Bitter Sweet Love with My Stepbrother CEO-Chapter 20: Walking Beside Her

Joseph’s POV

I woke up holding her hand.

For a moment, I didn’t breathe.

Yvette sat slumped in the chair beside my bed, her head tilted slightly toward her shoulder, strands of hair falling loosely around her face. Her fingers were laced with mine, warm and steady, as if she had been anchoring me there through the night.

It wasn’t a dream.

I tightened my grip instinctively—then stopped myself.

Slowly, carefully, I loosened my fingers and let her hand rest back against the arm of the chair.

Not because I wanted to let go.

But because I had promised myself I wouldn’t trap her again.

Last night wasn’t reconciliation.

It wasn’t forgiveness.

It was truth, sharp, painful, and necessary.

I stayed still, watching her sleep, afraid that if I moved too much, the fragile balance between us would shatter.

She looked healthier than she had in my dreams. Brighter. There was color in her cheeks now, life in her posture even in sleep. The woman before me wasn’t the Yvette I had neglected.

She was the Yvette who survived.

And I didn’t deserve to touch her until I proved I was worthy.

So, I waited.

Yvette’s POV

When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was the quiet.

Not the empty kind, the heavy, awkward silence that usually followed emotional moments, but a calm stillness, as if the world itself had decided to tread lightly.

Then I realized he was awake.

Joseph sat on the bed a few steps away from me, his posture stiff, eyes fixed somewhere past the window as if he had been awake for far too long. He looked... tired. Not physically, but emotionally. Like a man who had finally stopped running from himself.

He noticed me stir and turned toward me instantly—but didn’t move.

"Good morning," he said softly.

I nodded. "Morning."

There was no rush. No awkward scramble to fill the silence. No attempt to bridge the space between us.

I appreciated that more than he probably knew.

I straightened in my seat, smoothing my skirt, grounding myself before I spoke.

"About last night," I began.

Joseph inhaled slowly. "You don’t have to explain."

"I want to," I replied. "For clarity."

He nodded once. "Okay."

I met his eyes—steady, calm.

"What happened last night doesn’t change my plans," I said. "I’m still moving forward. I’m still choosing the life I decided to live."

"I understand," he said immediately.

No hesitation. No resistance.

That surprised me.

"I won’t stop you," he continued. "I won’t pressure you. I won’t make promises I can’t keep. I said I’d walk beside you—and I meant it exactly as you understood it."

Something in my chest loosened.

"Good," I said. "Because I won’t survive being caged again. Not by guilt. Not by love."

"I won’t cage you," he replied quietly. "Even if it means walking behind you for a while."

I stood up.

That was my cue.

"I’m leaving," I said. "I have work."

He rose as well—but stopped a safe distance away.

"Thank you," he said.

"For what?"

"For staying," he answered. "And for trusting me enough to tell me the truth, even if you don’t trust me enough yet to believe it."

I hesitated, then nodded.

"That trust," I said, "will be built through actions. Not words."

"I know."

I walked past him toward the door, then paused.

"One more thing, Joseph."

"Yes?"

"If you ever try to pull me back into a role I’ve already outgrown," I said calmly, "I will leave. And I won’t look back."

He met my gaze steadily. "Then I’ll make sure I never give you a reason to."

I left.

Joseph’s POV

The room felt emptier after she walked out.

But not hollow.

Purposeful.

I exhaled slowly and sat back down, letting the quiet settle around me.

This was it.

No more hesitation.

No more avoidance.

No more pretending I could keep everything as it was.

I picked up my phone. But then realized this was not my phone.

"This is Yvy’s phone." I smiled seeing the cute teddy bear as a wallpaper.

It was the teddy bear I gifted her on her sixteenth birthday.

I took the hotel phone by the bedside instead and dialed my sceretary’s phone number. Fortunately I have it memorized.

"Gregory," I said when he answered. "Clear my schedule this afternoon. I need to meet Dianne."

There was a brief pause. "Understood, sir."

I ended the call and stared at the floor.

Loving Yvette meant facing the damage I had allowed to linger.

It meant ending things cleanly—even if it cost me reputation, comfort, or peace.

And I would do it.

Yvette’s POV

By the time I arrived at the office, my steps felt lighter.

Not because everything was resolved, but because, for the first time, I wasn’t running away from my past or clinging to it.

I was walking forward.

And whether Joseph truly kept his promise...

Only time would tell.

But one thing was certain.

This time, I would never disappear for anyone again.

Yvette’s POV

The car ride home felt strangely quiet.

Not the hollow kind of quiet that used to press against my chest until breathing became difficult—but a softer one. Like the silence after a storm, when the air still smells of rain but the sky has already cleared.

I rested my forehead against the cool window, watching the city blur past in streaks of light and shadow.

Last night replayed in my mind—not as pain, not as regret, but as release.

Joseph’s tears.

His apology.

The way his voice had broken when he said sorry—not just once, but again and again, like he was trying to atone for a lifetime he didn’t fully remember.

He didn’t know the truth.

Not really.

He didn’t remember the life we had lived. The marriage that suffocated me. The nights I cried silently beside him. The son who had been my whole world.

And yet—

His apology had reached the wound all the same.

Because it wasn’t about memory.

It was about acknowledgment.

For so long, I had carried that pain alone—unseen, unheard, unresolved. I had died believing my suffering never mattered, that my love had been invisible.

But last night...

He had seen it.

Even if he didn’t understand where it came from, he had felt the weight of it. And in doing so, he gave me something I never had in that life.

Closure.

I exhaled slowly, my shoulders relaxing. 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

I felt lighter.

Not because everything was fixed—but because something essential had finally been set down.

Joseph might still be walking in the dark, haunted by dreams he refused to name, but his remorse was real. His restraint was real.

And my acceptance—quiet, deliberate—had closed a door that no longer needed to stay open.

Whatever happened next, I wouldn’t bleed from that wound again.

The car pulled through the gates of my manor just as the sun climbed higher in the sky.

Home.

It wasn’t as grand as the Hamilton estate, but it was mine. Chosen. Earned. A place where I wasn’t defined by anyone else’s expectations.

The moment I stepped out of the car, I noticed movement near the front entrance.

Brent.

He was pacing, phone pressed to his ear, his usually composed expression fractured with something close to panic.

"Brent?" I called.

He froze.

Then turned.

The relief that washed over his face was immediate and unguarded.

"Yvette," he breathed, striding toward me. "Thank God."

"What’s wrong?" I asked, startled.

"I’ve been calling you nonstop since early this morning," he said, running a hand through his hair. "You didn’t answer. I thought something happened—after last night, after everything—"

"I’m fine," I said quickly. "I just—"

I stopped mid-sentence.

Something felt off.

My hand tightened reflexively around the phone I had been holding all this time—the familiar weight grounding me without question.

Brent frowned. "Did you hear anything I said?"

"Yes," I replied distractedly. "But... wait."

I looked down.

The phone in my hand wasn’t mine.

My breath caught.

It was Joseph’s.

The realization hit me all at once—sharp, undeniable.

At some point last night... without thinking... I must have taken it with me. Perhaps when he was half-asleep. Perhaps when my own hands were trembling and I needed something to hold onto.

A small, almost incredulous laugh escaped me.

Brent followed my gaze and raised an eyebrow. "Is that—"

"Joseph’s phone," I said softly.

I didn’t know whether to laugh or sigh.

No wonder Brent couldn’t reach me.

I closed my fingers around the device, a strange warmth spreading through my chest—not longing, not regret, just something gentle and human.

"He’ll probably think I ran off with it on purpose," I murmured.

Brent shook his head, relief finally easing the tension from his shoulders. "As long as you’re safe, he can survive a few missed calls."

I smiled faintly.

"I should return it," I said. "Later."

Brent studied me for a moment, his sharp eyes missing nothing.

"You look... different," he said carefully.

"I feel different," I replied honestly.

And for the first time since my regression—since waking up in a life I was determined to rewrite—I meant it without reservation.

The past no longer held my throat in a silent grip.

I had finally breathed.

And this time—

I didn’t feel like I was about to drown again.