Stranger in my Ass-Chapter 270

Maxwell’s POV

I stood behind the pillar in the hospital corridor, my body pressed against the cool concrete, watching Olivia’s room like a sentinel who’d long abandoned his post but couldn’t quite walk away.

The nurse who’d been hovering around me for the past twenty minutes appeared again, her expression somewhere between concerned and exasperated.

"Sir, please," she said softly, gesturing to the row of plastic chairs along the wall. "You really should sit down. You can’t stand here. Your feet..."

I ignored her, keeping my eyes fixed on that door.

She sighed, but I barely registered the sound. Everything in me was focused on that room. On the woman inside it.

After Kira had thrown me out of the house - and God, I’d deserved that, deserved worse than that - I hadn’t actually left. I’d driven to a safe distance and waited. Watched Kira rush out and hail a cab. Followed that cab to the coffee shop where she’d met Kennedy.

Then followed them both here.

To this hospital where Olivia was somewhere inside, hurt or sick or God knows what, and I couldn’t go to her because her best friend hated me and her brother didn’t even know what was happening and I’d made such a catastrophic mess of everything that I didn’t even know where to begin fixing it.

So I stood. And I watched. And I waited. 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

Kennedy was outside now, leaning against the wall near the entrance, probably on his phone. Giving the girls time to talk.

Part of me wanted to approach him. Wanted to start trying to salvage this disaster from the branches before it reached the roots. Talk to Kennedy first, explain myself, then maybe her parents, then somehow convince Kira that I wasn’t the complete monster she thought I was.

But if I approached Kennedy right now, things would spiral. He’d demand answers I wasn’t ready to give, ask questions that would only make everything worse, and I’d lose my chance to see Olivia. To explain. To beg for forgiveness.

So I stayed hidden.

Watched as Kira eventually emerged from the room, her expression unreadable.

Watched as Kennedy went in to take her place.

"Shit," I muttered under my breath, my hands clenching into fists.

Why were they going in one by one? Couldn’t they have just gone in together and left together?

Unless...

Unless Olivia didn’t want Kennedy to know about the baby.

Because she was planning to abort it.

The word Kira had thrown at me earlier came roaring back, sharp as a knife to the chest.

"Not if I convince her to abort it."

My vision blurred for a second. My chest constricted so tight I couldn’t breathe.

No. No, she wouldn’t. She couldn’t.

But what if she did? What if right now, in that room, she was making the decision to erase the only thing - the only tangible, permanent thing - that connected us?

What if I’d pushed her so far that she’d rather destroy a part of herself than remain tied to me?

The nurse was back, her hand touching my arm gently. "Sir, you’re very pale. Please, sit down. Let me get you some water..."

"I’m fine," I said roughly, though I was anything but.

Hours passed. Or maybe minutes. Time had lost all meaning.

The sun began to set outside the hospital windows, painting the white walls in shades of amber and gold that felt too beautiful for how broken everything was.

Kennedy finally emerged from Olivia’s room, and a moment later, Kira went back in.

I tensed, ready to wait another eternity.

But then - less than five minutes later - Kira came back out.

She waved toward the room, calling out something cheerful like "Feel better, babe!" before linking her arm with Kennedy’s and heading toward the exit.

They were leaving.

Both of them.

Together.

Relief hit me so hard my knees nearly buckled. I had to press my hand against the pillar to keep myself upright.

The nurse gave me a knowing look. "Now will you sit?"

"No," I said, already moving.

I waited until Kennedy and Kira had disappeared around the corner, waited another minute to be safe, then walked toward Olivia’s room on legs that felt like they might give out at any moment.

My hand trembled as I reached for the door handle.

This was it. The moment where everything either began to heal or shattered completely beyond repair.

I pushed the door open quietly and stepped inside.

The room was dim, just one small lamp glowing beside the bed. Olivia lay there, her eyes closed, her dark hair spread across the white pillow. She looked so small in that hospital bed. So fragile.

The bandage on her thigh made my chest ache.

She’d been hurt. While I’d been playing my stupid games, manipulating and controlling and thinking I was so clever, she’d been hurt.

"Nurse," she murmured without opening her eyes, her voice tired. "I’m fine. You can stop checking on me every ten minutes."

I didn’t respond. Just moved quietly to the chair beside her bed and sat down, my eyes never leaving her face.

She must have felt something - the weight of my stare, or maybe just the shift in the air - because her whole body went still.

"Maxwell," she whispered, and then her eyes opened.

The way she looked at me made everything inside me crack wide open.

Her eyes were filled with so much hurt. So much pain and betrayal and confusion and anger all mixed together in a expression that would haunt me for the rest of my life.

I opened my mouth to speak. To apologize, to explain, to beg.

But nothing came out.

My tongue felt thick and useless in my mouth. My throat closed up. My mind raced through a thousand opening lines - I’m sorry, I can explain, Are you okay, Is the baby okay - but none of them felt right. None of them felt like enough.

How do you apologize for destroying someone’s trust? For manipulating them? For being the villain in their story when all you’d wanted was to be their hero?

So I just sat there in silence, watching her watch me, waiting for her to make the first move because I’d already made too many wrong ones.

She stared at me for a long moment, and I watched emotions flicker across her face like a storm passing overhead.

Then she spoke.

"When were you going to tell me?"