It had been a week.
A week without Jerry.
A week since Mira left behind the only woman who ever truly held her heart.
She walked into the office, heels clicking across marble, posture elegant—but her eyes empty. As she stepped inside, she noticed the shift instantly.
Jerry's desk.
Being cleared.
Mira's steps faltered.
"No…" she whispered.
She walked forward slowly, almost afraid to breathe. The manager stood nearby, arms full of documents and sealed envelopes.
"M–Manager," Mira's voice came out broken. "What are you doing to her desk?"
The manager flinched. "Oh… Miss Langford. I didn't expect you back so soon…"
"What is that?" Mira's eyes fell to the overflowing pile of over a thousand envelopes, stacked beside Jerry's desk.
The manager looked away and rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. "They're… proposals."
Mira blinked. "What… proposals?"
The manager hesitated. "Marriage proposals… for Jerry. Ever since the news broke about the… divorce. They started flooding in. All from women. From clients. Strangers. Everyone wants her."
Mira's fingers curled into fists so tight her nails bit into her palms.
She bit her bottom lip, hard, staring at the envelopes.
"But… where is she?" Mira asked quietly, her voice suddenly trembling. "Jerry. Where is she now?"
The manager froze.
Mira's breath caught. "Where. Is. She?"
"…Mira…" the manager whispered. "Jerry is in the hospital."
The room spun.
Mira's heart slammed against her ribs. "What…?"
"She collapsed. Two days after you left her… she was found unconscious. Outside her apartment door."
Mira gasped, legs giving way, and collapsed to her knees.
The pain hit all at once.
She had left her.
She had let her cry out and shut the door and now—
"Why didn't you tell me?!" Mira screamed, voice cracking, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Why didn't anyone call me?!"
The manager's eyes welled up too. "The Kingston family—Miss Langford—they didn't allow us. They… they gave strict orders. The doctors said she was in critical condition… and if they'd brought her ten minutes later…"
The manager choked. "They would've lost her."
Gasps spread through the office. Some workers looked away, others stood frozen, hands over their mouths.
Mira sat there, on her knees in the middle of the office, sobbing so violently her shoulders shook.
She had tried to protect Jerry.
But she was the one who hurt her the most.
And now… she might lose her.
Mira ran.
She didn't wait for her car.
Didn't hear the calls behind her.
Her heels clattered down the hospital floor, heart pounding in her throat, tears clouding her vision.
Until—
"Stop!"
Two security guards blocked her path at the entrance of the intensive care unit.
"You're not allowed beyond this point," one said firmly.
"Please—please, I need to see her!" Mira sobbed, trying to push past. "She's—she's my—"
"You've been restricted by the Kingston family. We can't—"
"Let her through."
A deep, commanding voice sliced the air like thunder.
The guards turned immediately.
Mr. Kingston stepped out from the shadows of the hallway, hands behind his back, posture rigid with pain and disappointment. His eyes locked on Mira.
But it wasn't with warmth.
"Let her in," he repeated coldly. "She is, after all, the reason my child is lying in that bed."
The guards stepped aside. Mira stood frozen, guilt crashing over her in waves.
"G–Grandpa…" she whispered.
Mr. Kingston's jaw tightened. "Don't call me that."
Mira flinched.
He looked away and gestured toward the ICU door.
"Go. Look at what you've done."
Mira walked, knees weak, toward the glass window of the private cabin.
Inside, Jerry lay motionless.
Wires connected to her chest. IVs in her arms. A breathing tube. Her face—so pale it didn't look like her. Her hands—cold, bruised. Her lips—bloodless.
Mira choked on a sob, pressing her hands against the glass. "No…"
"You know," Mr. Kingston said from behind her, voice trembling, "when her parents died, Jerry went into a coma for six months."
Mira turned, stunned.
"She was only fifteen. The doctors said… she was unresponsive to life itself. I thought I lost her then."
His voice cracked.
"I brought her back. With years of discipline. Pain. Pressure. You think she's strong by luck? No. I made her strong so she'd never break again. But now…"
He paused, voice low and bitter.
"…You broke her."
Mira's knees gave way. She sank to the floor again, staring up at the man who had once smiled at her.
"She didn't just love you. She built a future for you."
Mr. Kingston's eyes welled. "She gathered a team of doctors. Arranged to use her blood to help you both conceive a child. She wanted her family to live on… through you."
Mira gasped.
"She knew her time as the last Kingston was closing," he said softly. "She wanted you to carry it forward. Her bloodline. Her name. Her life. And you…"
He stepped closer, voice breaking. "…You destroyed her."
Mira sobbed uncontrollably.
"No—I didn't—I only wanted her happy—"
"Then why did you walk away?" His shout echoed in the hallway.
"She begged for you. Screamed for you in her sleep. We had to sedate her every night."
Mira clutched her chest, as if her heart was tearing open. "Please…"
He stared at her in silence for a long time.
Then turned.
"If anything happens to her… Mira Langford…"
He didn't finish the sentence.
But Mira didn't need to hear it.
Because she knew.
She had destroyed not just Jerry's heart—but also her own.
The silence of the hallway cracked like thunder when the alarm inside Jerry's cabin began blaring.
"Code blue!" a nurse shouted.
The door flew open.
Doctors rushed in like a storm.
"Her heart's not responding!"
"No pulse—begin compressions!"
Mr. Kingston jerked forward and slammed against the glass window with trembling hands. "Jerry—!"
Mira's breath hitched, her hands shaking violently as she watched the doctors surround Jerry's lifeless body. One was doing chest compressions. Another injected something into her IV.
"No—no—please—!" Mira stumbled forward, gripping the window.
She couldn't hear anything but the flatline in her soul.
Time slowed.
Tears streamed down Mr. Kingston's face as he whispered, "Not again… not my child…"
Minutes felt like forever.
Then—suddenly—the lead doctor stopped and leaned back.
A soft beep echoed from the monitor.
Heartbeat. Weak, but there.
Everyone froze.
The doctor stepped out slowly, removing his gloves.
"She's stable now," he said. "But that was her second arrest this week. We can't guarantee anything…"
Then he looked at Mira.
"…Especially with people around her who trigger emotional trauma."
Mr. Kingston's eyes narrowed. "You heard him. Leave."
Mira didn't move. She shook her head desperately. "No… I—I won't leave her. Not now. I love her. I love her…"
"You love her?" Mr. Kingston snapped. "She begged you to stay! She cried on her knees, Mira. My child begged you. And what did you do? You handed her divorce papers."
Mira broke, falling to her knees again. "I didn't know… I didn't mean… Please, please don't shut me out. Let me stay—I'll do anything, I swear…"
"You wear your perfect suit and pretty face," he said bitterly, voice trembling. "And my child is dying."
"Please…" Mira whispered. "Let me see her. Let me hold her hand. Let me just stay here… please, Mr. Kingston… I'll never leave again…"
He looked at her for a long, brutal moment.
Then his voice came low, raw with agony.
"My child begged for one thing in this world."
He stared at the closed door, eyes shimmering.
"And the only person who could give it to her… ran away."
Then he turned, walking down the corridor with slow, heavy steps.
"Don't try to tell us you love her now," he muttered.
Because in that moment, to him… Mira's love had come too late.