The Choices We Make (Revenge)

Honesty

Suffolk County Memorial Hospital

Two days later

Emily was about to fall asleep when she heard a soft knock on the door. Frowning, she sat up. The visiting hours were over. Who could it be? "Yes, please?" She said hesitantly, then froze when she saw who the visitor was. "Daniel, what are you doing here? I told you I don't want to see you!"

"Just five minutes, please!" He begged. "I want to explain everything to you."

"Do you want to tell me why you shot me, or why you didn't tell me the truth in all these months?" She asked furiously. "You know what? I don't care! We're done!"

"Please, hear me out..."

She jerked slightly as he approached her and then sat on the edge of the bed and reached for her hand. She cursed her treacherous body, who immediately responded to his touch. Despite her hate, a part of her would always love him. "Five minutes," she nodded hesitantly. As he ran through his hair, she saw his hand tremble. He looked pitiful with his glassy eyes, the dark rings around it and his designer stubble. And that was not all. "You're drunk," she said simply.

He shrugged. "I needed something to drink to give me courage to visit you at all," he admitted.

She felt a stab in her stomach. As a former alcohol addict, it was not quite safe to drink alcohol again. But she also knew that it was his way of dealing with problems, even if it was not a solution. "Say what you have to say," she urged.

"Since the cat is out of the bag," he began, then cleared his throat. "... Now we can be honest with each other."

Emily nodded.

"I wanted to ask you this the entire time ... Did you lie when you claimed to be pregnant?"

She had not expected this question, but of course it made sense. After all, he had shot at her because he had been disappointed not to become a father. "Yes," she admitted softly.

"Why?"

His gaze, which met her, made her feel a pang of guilt. He wanted the truth? He should get it. "I knew you felt more for Sara than you said," she said hesitantly. "You've always avoided me. I had to do something to prevent you from leaving me."

"And then you just made up a pregnancy?" He looked at her incredulously. "How did you imagine it should have gone on with such a lie?" He thought for a moment. "Oh yes, of course ..." He scratched his head. "You would have feigned a miscarriage after a few weeks. Am I right?"

She felt her mouth getting dry. From his point of view it sounded as if she was a calculating, insensible monster. And maybe he was right. She couldn't tell him about her original plan. He still had no idea she was Amanda Clarke in reality. And in no case could he know of her and Aiden. So she decided for another lie. "Yes," she said simply.

He shook his head and then laughed scornfully. "What a pity that your terrific plan didn't work out."

She looked at him shocked, and this time it was no act. "Don't say that! Julian is the only true and honest thing in my life!"

He twisted his mouth. "Seems like you're having a heart after all ..." He said, poking into her chest.

Her eyes filled with tears. Only now did she realize the extent of her intrigues and revenge. She had betrayed and hurt the people who had trusted her. She suddenly had a better understanding of why Daniel wanted to kill her.

"Spare me the false tears!" He said contemptuously. "Save them up for someone who still cares for you." He looked at her thoughtfully. "Okay, the five minutes are over, but I still have some questions. Then I won't bug you anymore."

She wiped her tears from her cheek and nodded. "What do you want to know?"

He took a deep breath and then stared into her eyes. "There were multiple ways you could have infiltrated my family. But you chose me, why?"

She shrugged. "You were expedient."

"I don't think so." He shook his head. "There is more to it than that. You went through great lying lengths to keep me around. Was any of it real?"

Emily felt more and more cornered by his questions. "What do you want to hear?"

"The truth, maybe. What about when I proposed to you, the first time I mean. Did you feel anything?"

She remembered the moment when he had proposed on the ship, in the rain. And she also remembered the feeling of happiness that she had felt at that moment. At that time she had been so naive and had thought she could align her revenge with her feelings for Daniel. Today she knew better.

"That's what I thought."

She raised her head confused. She hadn't said a word. But maybe he guessed that she hadn't lied. "There was a time when my feelings were real," she admitted reluctantly. "But the moment you aligned yourself with your father and became the Grayson, who you never wanted to be, it was all over."

"And that's why you hate me?"

Her heart skipped a beat. She could tell him the truth that she still loved him, in spite of everything, but would he believe her? It was true that she had planned to elope with Aiden and start a new life, far from retribution and the Graysons. Her love for Daniel was dead. But what he didn't know was that she had fallen in love with him again. And this time it were real emotions, without lies and intrigues. But she was not ready to confess to him. She was too hurt about his deception.

He nodded and rose quickly from the bed. "Don't worry, you don't have to answer," he said with a tired voice. "I got it." He went to the door and then turned to her. "I really thought we had a second chance. Tell Julian that I ..." He shook his head. "No, maybe it's better, he never gets to know who his father was."

"Daniel ... wait!" She wanted to follow him, explaining that she would never take his son away from him, but she was still too weak. Tears of pain and helplessness rolled over her cheeks. She couldn't believe that he had simply given up everything without fighting ... her, the baby. Everything was thrown away, as if life had no meaning for him. An alarming thought crossed her mind. He wouldn't do anything stupid?

In the parking lot, Daniel opened the door to his car and slumped heavily onto the seat. He felt slightly dizzy, presumably from the alcohol he'd drunk before. But not nearly enough to kill the pain that raged in his chest. He had lost her, forever. She hated him. And he felt too tired and guilty to do anything about it. He opened the glove compartment and pulled out a small flask. A comforter and friend in one, he thought, before he raised the flask to his lips and emptied it to the last drop. For a moment he just sat and waited for the effect. It came quickly and he began to grin involuntarily. Why had he given up drinking at all? It was so easy to find oblivion and to numb the pain. He groped for the key and turned it around. And although an inner voice warned him, he drove off and left everything behind.