30 Days of Passion and Revenge-Chapter 325: A Love Unforgotten

"I’ll have the saxophone sent over right now."

Ethan’s voice was cold, unwavering, as he moved toward the door.

Lily stood frozen.

Her hand moved before she could think.

Fingers wrapped around his wrist, firm, confident.

This time, she didn’t let go.

They stood back-to-back, neither turning, neither speaking.

He laughed.

It was quiet, smug, victorious.

Ethan’s fingers spread, wrapping around her smaller hand, his other arm slipping around her shoulder.

His chin brushed her head as he murmured, "Be good. Get treated."

Lily didn’t answer.

She didn’t say yes.

She didn’t say no.

Because, in the end, when had she ever really had a choice?

Ethan always decided things for her—their breakup, their reunion.

Was this how it worked? Just like that, they were back together?

"Go shower."

With a gentle push, Ethan nudged her toward the bathroom.

Lily sighed but obeyed.

Steam curled around her as she sank into the warm water, letting it soak away the tension in her muscles.

She glanced around absently—

Then, her eyes landed on something strange.

A travel-sized toothpaste tube.

It rested on the bathtub’s edge, far from where it should be.

She frowned, picking it up.

Had Ethan knocked it over when he was here earlier?

But...

Had he really come in only to run her bath?

Or had he been looking for something else?

Something hidden?

Lily tightened her grip around the small tube, a strange unease settling in her chest.

When she stepped out of the bathroom, the suite was completely dark.

"Ethan?"

She reached for the light switch.

A soft, golden glow flickered to life.

Candlelight.

Lily lowered her hand, watching as the warm light illuminated the room, casting long shadows against the walls.

Ethan stood at the center of it all, lighting the last candle on the table.

His sharp features softened under the warm glow, the flickering light making him look almost gentle.

The table was set with an elegant spread: perfectly cooked steak, a selection of sides, and a bottle of wine.

Lily blinked.

"A candlelit dinner... in the middle of the night?"

Ethan barely glanced up. "Come here."

She hesitated.

Not because she didn’t want to, but because—

This wasn’t like him.

Ethan didn’t do soft. He didn’t do romance.

And yet, here he was, lighting candle after candle like he was trying to chase away the darkness.

For her.

She swallowed and stepped forward.

Ethan pushed the table to the foot of the bed, gesturing for her to sit beside him.

Still, he wasn’t done.

He lit another row of small candles, lining them around the table as if he wanted the entire room to glow.

Lily raised an eyebrow. "This seems... excessive. You know fire hazards are a thing, right?"

Ethan shot her a look, his gaze darker than usual. "Lily, do you even understand romance?"

She bit her lip.

This wasn’t romance.

This was him trying.

That made it harder to breathe.

When satisfied, Ethan cut a steak and held it to her lips.

"Eat."

Lily stared at him for a moment before obediently taking a bite.

Ethan nodded in approval—then cut another piece.

He smirked as she parted her lips and shoved the fork into her hand.

Lily frowned. "What—?"

Ethan leaned in, his voice low, husky.

"Feed me."

Lily’s heart skipped.

She should’ve expected that.

But somehow—he always managed to catch her off guard.

Did he really expect her to feed him?

Lily sighed but complied, placing a piece of steak against his lips.

Ethan smirked, taking the bite with slow satisfaction.

Then—he pushed the entire plate toward her.

"Feed me everything."

Lily’s brows twitched.

This wasn’t a candlelit dinner.

This was a midnight snack with extra dramatics.

Still, she humored him, slicing bite after bite, pressing the fork to his lips. Ethan ate without hesitation, his dark eyes watching her with an intensity that made her fingers falter occasionally.

Occasionally, he reached out, pinching her cheek with deliberate slowness or tilting her chin to look at her.

Then he leaned in—way too close.

Lily stiffened.

Before she could react, he pressed his lips against hers, steak and all.

"No way."

She jerked back instantly.

Ethan didn’t let her escape.

His hand slid behind her head, fingers threading through her hair as he pulled her forward. His lips brushed against hers, but when she clamped her mouth shut, he chuckled against her skin.

"You’re no fun, Lily."

She scowled, stabbing another piece of steak and shoving it against his lips in retaliation.

Ethan huffed but accepted it, his amusement evident.

By the time the meal was over, she’d barely eaten—he had taken every bite she offered.

And yet, instead of calling it a night, Ethan called room service.

Minutes later, the staff cleared the plates—and he ordered more candles.

An entire table is full.

Lily stared as the room filled with a golden glow flickering against the walls.

"Ethan, this is a fire hazard."

He shot her an unimpressed look. "Lily, do you even understand romance?"

She let out a slow breath.

This wasn’t romance.

This was him trying.

And somehow, that made her chest ache even more.

When they finally climbed into bed, Ethan didn’t pull her close.

Instead, his fingers traced lazy patterns over her face as if memorizing every inch.

Lily lay still, her eyes fluttering shut—but sleep never came.

Minutes passed.

Then, an hour.

Finally, she sighed, staring up at the ceiling.

"I can’t sleep."

Ethan turned his head, propping himself up on one arm.

"Need me to help with that?" His smirk was entirely too smug.

Lily rolled over to face him instead.

The candlelight flickered, casting golden shadows over his sharp features.

He looked softer like this. Almost human.

His hand was still on her face, his fingertips tracing idle circles.

The silence stretched between them.

Then, finally—

"Ethan."

"Hm?"

"Are we... together?"

His gaze sharpened.

"What else would we be?"

Lily hesitated.

"I don’t know. It just doesn’t feel real."

Her fingers lifted, brushing against his cheek.

"You’re still hiding things from me, aren’t you?"

Ethan stilled.

"What would I be hiding?"

"That’s the thing," she murmured. "I don’t know. But I can feel it."

Her fingertips ghosted over his skin, mirroring how he traced her face earlier.

"There are still so many things I don’t understand."

And even now—a part of her wondered...

Would he ever truly let her in?

"What don’t you understand?"

Ethan didn’t answer her accusations.

Instead, he turned the question back on her, his low, magnetic voice breaking through the heavy silence between them.

Lily inhaled shakily.

"A lot."

Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Like how Alex got the antidote formula. I always felt he knew Aiko Nakamura, but now she’s dead, and he’s gone. I’ll never know the truth."

Ethan’s expression remained unreadable.

Lily swallowed.

"And more than that..." Her gaze locked onto his. "Alex tried to use the formula to force you away from me. But knowing you..."

Her voice wavered.

"You wouldn’t have just given in. Not without a fight. You had leverage—you had his father. So why, Ethan? Why did you still leave me?"

She searched his face for an answer.

For the truth, he was still hiding.

But Ethan only sighed, his hand reaching up to cup her chin, tilting her face toward him.

"Lily, you mean more to me than anything else."

Her breath hitched.

Tears slipped down her cheeks, one after another.

"I want to be with you," she whispered, voice thick with emotion. "No matter what. Even after everything—even after AuroraVirus. Even if staying with you means I’ll drag you down. I just..."

Her fingers curled into his shirt.

"I just want to stay by your side."

Ethan swiped his thumb over her tears, but they kept falling—faster, heavier.

"I know I’m selfish. I should think about what’s best for you. But I can’t help it. When you told me we’d marry in three months, I was so happy I forgot everything else."

Her voice cracked.

"I dreamt of watching our child grow up. But then I lost them. And I lost you."

Ethan stilled.

"And that day, my world collapsed."

Her hands trembled as they reached for his face, tracing the sharp edges of his jaw and cheekbones as if trying to memorize him again.

"I told myself you wouldn’t leave me. That you couldn’t."

Her voice shook.

"You did so much for me. You wouldn’t just—walk away. Right?"

He said nothing.

"I waited, day after day, for you to come back. I told myself that one day, you’d stand before me and say it was all a lie. That you loved me. That you never wanted to leave."

She let out a broken laugh, tears slipping down onto his hands.

"And now you’re here. Now we have the antidote. Now everything should feel like it’s getting better."

She sucked in a breath.

"So why don’t I feel anything?"

The candlelight flickered, illuminating her tear-streaked face.

Ethan’s fingers traced along her jaw, but no matter how many times he wiped her tears, they wouldn’t stop.

Because they had never stopped.

Not since she met him.

Not since she fell in love with him.

"Am I being dramatic?" she asked, voice small, eyes swollen.

"No."

His answer was immediate—but his voice caught.

His own eyes burned, his chest tightening.

Lily exhaled shakily.

"I want to be happy, Ethan. I want to forget everything. But I can’t."

Her bottom lip trembled.

"I can’t just pretend none of it happened. I can’t just erase it all."

Her voice cracked.

"I’m sorry, Ethan. I’m so sorry."

And in that moment—

He realized.

She wasn’t just grieving their past.

She was grieving herself.