Chapter Seventy-Seven: And Then, There Was the End
Kian's POV
He didn't speak right away.
Didn't offer empty comfort or fall back on indifference.
He knew her.
And he knew her silence between those words—"Then he cheated"—meant more than the words themselves.
Cheating had always been Chloe's line in the sand.
The one boundary she'd never tolerate.
Back then, she said it as easily as breathing: "I don't care if we fight. I don't care if we fall apart. But if you cheat on me, that's it. That's unforgivable."
And now, here she was—living proof she hadn't just said it.
She meant it.
So Kian just nodded, his voice low.
"I figured that was your last straw."
Chloe's POV
She looked out the window, the city long gone, familiar terrain returning beneath the tires—the bend of the road, the trees blurred in late-afternoon sun, the scent of sea salt faintly catching in the wind.
"It was."
Her voice was quiet but sure.
"That's when I decided to divorce him. No confrontation, no drama. I didn't even cry. I just… I ended it."
And somehow, the way she said that—not bitter, not broken, just steady—made the moment feel heavier than she expected.
Because this wasn't grief anymore.
It was acknowledgment.
That it happened.
And it was over.
Kian's POV
He didn't push for more.
Didn't ask about Carter.
Didn't ask for the details.
Because he wasn't here to reopen wounds.
He was here to be exactly what she needed in this moment—present.
Beside her.
Understanding her.
Letting her say what she needed to say.
And then—he caught it.
The faint change in the air.
The wind grew cooler.
The scent of brine thickened.
He glanced to the left just as the trees gave way, and there—Azure Haven emerged from the cliffside, kissed by light, wrapped in sea breeze, exactly as it always had been.
Chloe
She looked up, breath catching slightly.
The villa hadn't changed.
White stone. Weathered shutters. Wide glass doors opening to a stretch of untouched sand. The sea waited just beyond, soft waves catching slants of gold.
Everything about it looked the same.
But she?
She was not the girl who used to run barefoot to the shore, laughing as he chased her down with a towel and a dare.
She wasn't that version of herself anymore.
But somehow—being back here didn't feel wrong.
It felt… quiet.
Ready.
As if this place had been waiting too.