Chapter 8
462words
Adrian stood at the bow, Ella at the stern—an ocean of distance between them. Sea breeze tousled her hair, making her look more fragile than ever, as if she might dissolve into the wind at any moment.
The weather matched their mood—oppressive, with dark clouds hanging low over churning waters.
The storm struck without warning.
Fierce winds drove massive waves against the yacht. The vessel pitched violently, guests' screams mingling with the crash of breaking glass and toppling furniture.
Ella, already weakened, stumbled and began to fall.
Suddenly, a strong arm wrapped around her waist from behind, anchoring her firmly.
Adrian.
He didn't remember rushing to her side, but by the time he realized what was happening, he'd already shielded her with his body. Again, his damn uncontrollable instincts!
"Hold on!" he shouted, his voice torn away by howling wind.
Ella stiffened in his arms like stone.
Suddenly, the piercing shriek of breaking metal exploded above them.
Adrian looked up to see a heavy mast, snapped by the storm, swinging horizontally toward Ella!
No time to dodge!
In that moment, Adrian's mind emptied completely.
He didn't think or hesitate—didn't even consider whether he hated or loved her.
His body made the most primal, instinctive choice.
With a roar, he shoved Ella to safety and turned his back to the whistling mast, taking the full force of the blow.
"CRACK!"
Excruciating pain exploded from his back, radiating through his entire body.
As consciousness slipped away, his final sight was Ella—safe because of his sacrifice.
She stared wide-eyed, face streaked with tears, screaming something he couldn't hear.
He couldn't hear her words. But it didn't matter.
In the darkness, fragments of broken memories surged like a flood tide.
—That scar came from a kidnapping, when she took a knife meant for him.
—At their wedding, she wore her dress with reluctance, yet when he slid the ring onto her finger, her eyes secretly filled with tears.
—After his father died, she embraced him awkwardly and whispered: "It's okay. I'll take care of you now."
—Before the accident, he'd found her medical report and sobbed into the phone: "Ella, if you dare die, I won't live without you!"
All the forgotten love and pain of thirty-one-year-old Adrian Grayson flooded back in that moment.
...
Adrian's eyes snapped open.
He lay on a rescue stretcher, Ella beside him clutching his hand, crying so hard she seemed about to collapse.
He moved his dry, cracked lips, using his remaining strength to call the name etched into his soul.
His voice was no longer that of a nineteen-year-old filled with confusion, but of a thirty-one-year-old man—hoarse and heavy with profound love and regret.
"Ella..."
