Reborn at Eighteen The Billionaire's Second Chance novel Chapter 209

Elara

The first thing I registered was light–harsh, clinical white that stabbed through my eyelids even before I opened them. My lashes felt heavy, crusted with something I couldn’t name, and when I finally managed to drag them apart, the fluorescent glare made me wince.

Hospital. The antiseptic smell confirmed it before my vision even cleared, that particular combination of bleach and floor wax and something vaguely medicinal that seemed to coat the back of my throat.

I turned my head, slowly, because even that small movement sent a wave of dizziness through me. The room was private, which surprised me–I’d half–expected to wake up in some curtained–off corner of the ER, forgotten and alone. Instead I found myself in a proper hospital room with cream–colored walls and a single armchair positioned beside the bed, and in that chair sat Julian.

He looked terrible. Still wearing the same casual clothes from last night–dark jeans, a button–down with the sleeves rolled to his elbows

and the collar open–but rumpled now, creased from hours of sitting. His tie was gone entirely. There were shadows under his eyes, deep

purple–black bruises of exhaustion, and his jaw was dark with stubble he hadn’t bothered to shave. He’d been here all night, I realized

with a jolt of something I couldn’t quite name. Watching me. Waiting for me to wake up.

He was staring at his phone when I opened my eyes, but he must have caught the movement because his head snapped up immediately.

Our eyes met, and for just a second something raw and unguarded flickered across his face–relief, maybe, or something close to it–before

his expression shuttered into careful blankness.

I turned my head away, unable to look at him. My throat felt like I’d swallowed broken glass, dry and raw and aching.

When I spoke, my voice came out as barely more than a croak. “What are you doing here? Come to make sure I didn’t die?” The words

were bitter, laced with all the hurt and rage I couldn’t quite suppress. “Sorry to disappoint. I’m alive and well. You should go back to your

pregnant fiancée. What if her stomach starts hurting again?”

I heard him exhale sharply, saw his jaw tighten out of the corner of my eye. “Elara-”

“I don’t want to hear it. I kept my gaze fixed on the ceiling tiles, counting the small perforations in the acoustic panels because looking

at him hurt too much. Just go. I’m sure Sloane needs you more than I do.”

The silence that followed was thick and suffocating. I could feel him staring at me, could practically hear the wheels turning in his head

as he tried to decide what to say, how to respond to this version of me who wouldn’t look at him, who spoke to him like a stranger

Finally he stood, and I heard the scrape of the chair against the floor as he moved closer to the bed.

Why do you always talk to me like this? His voice was low, controlled, but I could heat the anger simmering beneath it. With that edge.

like you’re trying to cut me with every word?”

I did look at him then, turning my head to meet his eyes with all the fury and palin I’d been holding back. Why shouldn’t 17 Sloane is your fiancée. She was in danger, you should care about her. You did save me first from the pool, Ell give you that. But why are you here now, acting like…” I trailed off, my throat closing around the words. Why are you pretending you care when we both know you don 17

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9:54 Fri, Mar 27

Chapter 209

His expression went rigid, something dark and wounded flashing through his eyes before anger took over. “You think I don’t care? You

think I pulled you out of that water and sat here all night because I don’t care?” He leaned forward, gripping the bed rail with white knuckles. “And for the record, in everyone’s eyes, you pushed Sloane into the pool. You tried to drag her down with you.”

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The accusation hit me like a physical blow, stealing what little breath I’d managed to recover. For a moment I just stared at him, stunned into silence by the casual cruelty of it, the way he could throw that at me so easily. Then the rage came flooding back, hot and acidic in

my chest, giving me strength I didn’t know I had left.

I pushed myself up to sitting despite the way it made my head swim and my vision blur at the edges. Julian reached out instinctively, as if to steady me, but I slapped his hand away hard enough that the crack of skin on skin echoed in the quiet room.

“Don’t touch me.” My voice shook with fury. “Don’t you dare touch me and act like you’re concerned when you just accused me of trying to murder your pregnant fiancée.”

“Elara-

“I don’t care what people think happened!” The words came out too loud, harsh enough to scrape my damaged throat, but I couldn’t stop them. “I don’t care what the whole world believes, Julian. What I care about is what you believe. And clearly, you’ve already made up your mind, haven’t you? You and your perfect Sloane, so kind, so gentle, would never do anything wrong. It must have been the crazy foster girl who tried to drown her out of jealousy.”

I was shaking now, my whole body trembling with rage and something that felt dangerously close to tears. “Why are you even here? Why bother sitting by my bedside all night if you think I’m a would–be murderer? Go back to Sloane. She needs you. She’s carrying your child, remember? That’s what matters to you, isn’t it? Your perfect future with your perfect wife and your perfect baby.”

“Stop it. His voice cracked like a whip, sharp enough to cut through my tirade. “Just stop. I never said I believed her version of events.”

That brought me up short. I stared at him, searching his face for any sign of deception, but all I saw was exhaustion and something that might have been pain. “What?”

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