The Heiress's Comeback-Chapter 250: [ Volume 1] Chaper - i kill you both you idiots

Helga’s eyes softened, her tone filled with both understanding and a hint of exasperation. "Esme, if you know you’ve fallen in love, then go tell them," she said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "Why are you making it so complicated? Your dear husbands—do you even know what you’re putting them through?"

Esme looked up, her eyes widening as Helga continued.

"Ray hasn’t eaten properly in days, Ryan and Kai are one step away from breaking something—or someone—and Jay, well," Helga chuckled, her voice laced with irony, "he looked ready to brew up a poison to knock some sense into you." She shook her head, her smile gentle yet firm. "They’re all waiting for you, worrying over you, Esme. Do you really think they’d feel this way if they didn’t want you around?"

A flicker of hope crossed Esme’s face, her guard finally breaking as she let Helga’s words sink in. The doubt, the confusion, all of it seemed to crumble, giving way to something deeper, something that made her eyes shine with a mixture of relief and disbelief.

Helga’s voice softened as she reached out, her hand resting on Esme’s shoulder. "You just need to trust yourself, Esme," she said quietly, her gaze filled with reassurance. "Go home. They’re waiting for you."

For a moment, Esme simply stared, a mixture of emotions swirling in her eyes—relief, fear, and something close to joy. She felt the weight of her doubts lift, her heart swelling with a new resolve as she realized what Helga was saying.

"Yes," she murmured, almost to herself, her lips curving into a small, genuine smile. "You’re right. They’re... they’re waiting for me."

Esme wasn’t like others—she had always known that. If she loved someone, she didn’t tiptoe around it, didn’t second-guess or hesitate. She just accepted it as it was, with all its messy, beautiful complications. Why question it? The people she loved were lovable, and she had fallen for them deeply. That was enough for her, more than enough. Even if this feeling wasn’t what everyone else called "love," it was her truth, and that truth felt undeniable.

Yet, despite this strength she’d always carried, tonight, she was scared. She was terrified that the Aron brothers might not feel the same. What if, after everything, they truly did want to end the marriage? She didn’t have anywhere else to go. Her family had turned away from her long ago, and her first love—the one she’d once thought she’d spend her life with—was gone, his memory now nothing more than an ache she’d buried deeply.

Esme’s parents had betrayed her, and when that happened, it felt like the earth had opened beneath her feet. She’d lost the only sense of belonging she’d known. Aron and Helga were the closest she’d had to family, but even they had their own lives, their own families. They cared about her, yes, but she wasn’t a priority. She wasn’t woven into the fabric of their day-to-day. She was a wandering piece, belonging nowhere, floating nowhere.

But then, meeting the brothers... that had changed things. She’d found a place to come home to, a reason to return at the end of a long day. She belonged here, in this house, with them. For the first time, she felt she had a space in someone else’s life. And now, she was terrified. What if they abandoned her too? What if that sense of belonging was ripped away, leaving her even more hollow than before?

Steeling herself, Esme went home. As she stepped over the threshold, she paused, her heart racing when she saw all the brothers gathered in the hall. Each one looked at her, their expressions a storm of emotions. Ray, in particular, seemed barely able to contain his anger. The moment his gaze met hers, he picked up the nearest thing—a pillow—and flung it in her direction. His anger fueled him, and one by one, he threw whatever was close by, from pillows to vases.

Strangely, Esme didn’t flinch, didn’t dodge. She let each item come close, though none had much force behind them. It was as if she didn’t believe she had the right to avoid it. When one of the vases grazed her forehead, a small cut opened, and she felt the warmth of blood trickle down her face. It didn’t hurt all that much; Ray’s throws were more desperate than powerful. But the blood was real, and as it began to drip down her face, Ray’s rage suddenly broke.

He froze, as if someone had slapped him awake, his eyes widening in shock at the sight of her blood. The pillow in his hand slipped from his grip, landing softly at his feet. In an instant, his anger morphed into something else, something stricken and fearful. He stumbled forward, nearly tripping over himself as he closed the distance between them.

"Oh God... I..." Ray’s voice was barely a whisper, his hand trembling as he reached for her. His gaze locked on the small cut, his eyes filling with tears. He dug into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief with a shaking hand, and began dabbing gently at her forehead, as though afraid to hurt her further. "I... I didn’t mean... I didn’t realize..."

"Ray," Esme began, but he wouldn’t let her speak. His eyes were glossy, his expression distraught.

"You should’ve avoided it," he murmured, his voice raw. "Why didn’t you move? You’re bleeding, Esme." His fingers brushed her cheek as he continued to clean the wound, his own breaths shaky as he focused intently on her face. "I’m sorry... I’m so sorry..."

Esme could see his pain, feel it radiating off of him in waves. It softened something in her chest, that fear that had been eating her alive. She lifted her hand and placed it gently over his, guiding him to stop wiping the blood as she looked into his eyes.

"Ray, it’s alright. It doesn’t hurt," she assured him, her voice steady. But his lips quivered, and a tear slipped down his cheek, breaking his stoic mask.