Ava let out a weak laugh, the kind that held no joy, and stared at Adam like she was waiting for him to take it back.
"Say it again," she whispered.
Adam didn't flinch. He told her everything; how he broke, how Dawn held him together, how he tried to survive the empty years without her.
"Helped you?" Ava's voice cracked. "You cheated on me."
"No," he said, steady but exhausted. "If you had woken up, if Dawn wasn't there I wouldn't even be alive to talk to you right now. You wouldn't be looking at me."
Ava tried to stand, rage shaking through her, but her body failed her. She collapsed to the floor. Adam rushed forward—instinct but she shoved him so hard her hands trembled.
"Don't touch me."
Her eyes jumped to Dawn, sharp and wet.
"And you. What do you want? Money? Fame? Name your price. I can pay you off."
"I don't want your money," Dawn said, voice soft but unshaking. "I married Adam because I love him."
"Oh really? And the deal?" Ava's tone sliced the air.
Silence fell like a brick wall.
"You think I didn't know?" Her voice shook, but she smirked through the pain. "I know everything."
Adam's jaw worked. "Because I told you," he said quietly. "I talked to you every day in that coma. Told you everything, because a part of me believed you were still in there." His voice cracked. "I didn't betray you, Ava. I just… lived."
"You thought I was going to die?" she sobbed.
"I met Dawn nine months ago. Nine," he said, tired. "You'd already been asleep a year and nine months. Do the math."
He turned and walked out before she could answer. The door stayed open behind him like a wound.
Ava looked at Daphne, hurt everywhere.
"Mom… how could you? I'm your daughter. And you were so desperate you traded me away."
"She didn't do it for herself," Dawn said. "She did it for her son. If you ever have a child, you'll understand."
"Oh, and you have one?" Ava snapped.
"Yes." Dawn's voice trembled. "Children. That's why I said yes at first. But it's not about money anymore." She looked at Daphne, eyes heavy with guilt. "I'm sorry for everything." Then she walked out, looking for Adam.
Daphne reached for Ava, but Ava wheeled herself away, tears streaking her face.
* * * * * *
Dawn knocked on Adam's door. He didn't answer, but she walked in anyway. He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at nothing.
"I feel so bad," she said, sitting beside him. "If I never accepted that deal, none of this would've happened."
"You don't get to blame yourself," Adam murmured. "You didn't do anything wrong."
"I know. But being with you has been… the second best thing that's ever happened to me."
His brows lifted. "Second?"
"Yes." A tiny smile. "I'm not telling you the first. Your ego doesn't need protein."
He almost smiled. "And I'm not your first best thing either, right?"
"You said it. Not me."
His eyes softened, floating backward in time.
"Ava was… she was something special. Like she could walk in a room and..."
Dawn cleared her throat loudly.
He blinked. "Sorry. Memory lane."
"It's fine. She's still your wife." She stood, wiping her palms on her jeans. "I should go."
"I'll drive you."
"No. She needs you more than I do."
"You're right," he whispered. "Thank you… for understanding."
Daphne hugged Dawn at the door. Apologized for everything. Dawn hugged her back. Then Ava crashed into the room in the wheelchair like fury in human form.
"I want a divorce."
Daphne gasped. Adam just stared.
"Ava, no, let's talk ..." Daphne began.
"There's nothing to talk about!"
"Ava… can you just let me explain?" His voice was low, shaky, like he was holding too much inside.
She didn't say a word. Just stared at him with that look—like everything about him was a lie she'd finally figured out.
"I know I messed up," he continued, hands open, pleading. "I know I should've been there. I should've fought harder for us. I thought I was doing the right thing, but maybe I was just scared. I never stopped caring about you. Not for one second."
Still nothing. No blink. No softening. Just walls.
He swallowed hard, eyes glistening. "Ava, please… I'm not asking for forgiveness today. I just want you to hear me. That's it."
She looked away.
That tiny movement—choosing silence over him hit harder than any yelling ever could.
Adam stood there for a moment, breathing through the ache in his chest. Then his voice dropped, almost a whisper:
"If you truly believe I never loved you… if nothing I say will matter anymore then I'll sign the divorce papers."
Ava finally turned to him, her face blank, stunned, like the words didn't fit the world she expected.
He didn't wait for her answer. He just nodded once, quietly, and walked out of the room.
Ava froze. She'd expected tears. Begging. Not this.
"Adam, have you lost your mind?" Daphne cried. But he was already gone.
Ava crumbled in her mother's arms, sobbing like a child who realized life wasn't fair and never would be.
* * * * * *
At Dawn's place, she told Alex and the twins everything. Their faces said it all; shock, sympathy, frustration.
"I feel bad for everyone," Alex sighed. "Nobody asked for this."
"What's your plan?" Leslie asked.
"I was going to tell him to divorce me," Dawn muttered, "but… he wasn't in the right mood."
"Divorce?!" Jason yelled. "You always tell us never make big decisions when you're confused. Now you're doing the opposite?"
"Adam already told Ava about the marriage. She's shattered. I can't add more pain."
"And what about your pain?" Alex snapped. "About Adam's?"
"I don't have a choice."
"You do," Leslie said. "You're just picking the wrong one."
Jason shook his head and left the room. Leslie squeezed Dawn's shoulder and followed.
Dawn stayed with Alex, stunned and quiet.
Outside, Adam stood at the door.
He had heard every word.
He didn't knock. He just walked away, jaw tight, eyes burning.
* * * * * *
The next morning, Dawn made breakfast and went to the Manchesters. Daphne looked like she hadn't slept.
"Where's Ava?" Dawn asked gently.
"Asleep."
"And Adam?"
Before Daphne could answer, Adam came downstairs in a suit, kissed his mother's forehead… and walked right past Dawn. Didn't even look at her.
Her heart dropped like a stone.
"Did something happen after I left?" she whispered.
"Ava asked for a divorce," Daphne said.
"What? Why?"
"Dawn," Daphne said quietly, "I think you should move in. He's your husband."
"Not now, Daphne."
"This is the time. He needs you."
Before Dawn could reply, Ava appeared at the staircase... standing. No wheelchair. No help. Just rage.
"You've taken my husband," she said. "Now you want my mother too?"
"What? No..."
"I always make breakfast for Mom. And now you're doing that too?"
"I wasn't trying to take anything..."
"You take," Ava cut in. "That's all you do. But you'll always be a second choice."
She walked into the kitchen, leaving Dawn frozen in place.
Hours passed before Adam finally returned. He walked in without a word, hugged his mother, and turned for the stairs like he was running on autopilot.
Dawn stepped in front of him, her voice cracking.
"Adam… what did I do? Why are you so angry at me?"
He stopped. Slowly lifted his head. The look in his eyes wasn't fire; it was ice.
"You think I wanted any of this?" he asked quietly. "You think I planned to hurt you? I've been trying to hold everything together, and somehow I'm still the villain in everyone's story."
Dawn opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
Adam shook his head, a tired, bitter laugh slipping out.
"I fought for every relationship in my life. My marriage. My family. Us. And at the end of the day, all I get back is doubt."
He stepped back from her, voice low, final.
"You want a divorce? Fine. I'll give you that too."
Then he walked away. No anger, no hesitation, just a man done.
And Dawn felt the world tilt under her feet.