Rhea didn't listen when Ling tried to resist again.
She slid her arms under Ling's shoulders and back, careful of her feet, and pulled her up with a strength born entirely of desperation. Ling's body was heavier than usual—not in weight, but in surrender. She let herself be lifted this time, forehead falling against Rhea's shoulder as a sob finally tore free.
Ling's hands fisted into Rhea's jacket.
Her voice broke completely.
"What was I lacking?" she cried, words tumbling out raw and unguarded. "Tell me, Rhea. What did I not give you?"
Rhea froze, breath hitching.
Ling pulled back just enough to look at her, eyes red, wild, stripped of every layer she usually hid behind.
"Why did you choose him?" Ling demanded, voice shaking violently. "Why him?"
Her chest heaved as another sob wracked her. "Was I too much? Too cold? Too controlling? Was I not enough when I stayed? Was I not enough when I left?"
Rhea shook her head frantically, tears streaming down her own face. "I didn't— I didn't— I swear, Ling, I—"
Her words tangled, panic choking them off.
"I didn't choose him," Rhea cried. "I swear on everything, I didn't. I was angry. I was stupid. I was trying to hurt you because I felt hurt—"
Ling let out a broken sound, half laugh, half sob.
"So it was me," she whispered. "It's always me."
She pulled her hands away from Rhea's jacket and pressed them to her own temples, shaking her head like she was trying to shake the thoughts out.
"Maybe I'm the problem, right?" Ling said hoarsely. "I ruin everything I touch. I don't know how to love without destroying something."
She laughed bitterly through tears. "Look at me. I scare you. I scare everyone. Maybe you just wanted something… easier."
Rhea grabbed Ling's face firmly then, forcing her to stop spiraling, thumbs brushing away tears without caring how messy it was.
"No," Rhea said fiercely. "Stop it."
Ling didn't stop. She was unraveling too fast.
"I tried to be patient," Ling continued, voice cracking. "I tried to hold back. I tried to be better for you. And still—still you slipped away."
She dropped her forehead against Rhea's, shaking. "Maybe loving me is just… exhausting."
Rhea sobbed openly now. "Ling, listen to me."
Ling's voice fell into a whisper, fragile and terrified. "Tell me what I was missing. I'll fix it. I swear I'll fix it."
That was when Rhea completely broke.
"There was nothing missing," she cried. "Nothing. You didn't lack anything."
Ling stilled slightly.
Rhea cupped her face again, forcing her to stay present. "I didn't choose him. I never wanted him. I was angry because you keep deciding things alone. Because you walk away instead of fighting with me."
Her voice cracked. "I wanted you to stay and say you were jealous. I wanted you to say you were scared. I wanted you to say you wanted me."
Ling's breath shuddered.
"I already want you," Ling whispered weakly. "I always do."
"I know," Rhea said through tears. "But you show it by leaving."
Ling's eyes squeezed shut as if the words physically hurt.
Rhea pressed her forehead against Ling's again. "I didn't need control. I didn't need protection. I needed you to trust me."
Ling's shoulders collapsed inward.
"Oh God," she whispered. "I thought if I trusted… I'd lose you."
Rhea hugged her tightly, arms wrapped fully around her now, holding her upright when her legs couldn't.
"You lost me for a moment because you didn't trust me," Rhea said softly. "Not because I chose someone else."
Ling sobbed into Rhea's shoulder, hands clutching desperately now, all pride gone.
"I'm so tired of being like this," Ling cried. "I don't want to hurt you anymore."
Rhea held her face again, pressing a trembling kiss to her forehead—not romantic, not teasing—pure reassurance.
"Then don't punish yourself," Rhea whispered. "Punish the silence. Talk to me."
Ling nodded weakly, tears still falling, breath uneven.
"I'm scared," she admitted. "All the time."
Rhea hugged her tighter. "Then be scared with me."
The waves crashed behind them, cold wind cutting through the night, but neither of them moved.
Ling Kwong—who had ruled rooms, broken enemies, terrified cities—stood crying in Rhea's arms, finally asking the one question she had never dared to ask before.
And Rhea, shaking just as hard, stayed—
Not because of empathy.
But because she chose her.
Jian stepped forward the way people did when they understood something fragile was about to shatter further if mishandled.
"Careful," Jian said lowly, crouching beside Ling. "Her feet are numb."
Ling didn't resist. That alone scared Rhea more than anything else had that night.
Rhea slid one arm behind Ling's back, the other under her knees, but Ling's body sagged halfway, strength completely gone. Jian immediately took her weight without hesitation, steady and precise, lifting her like it was a practiced drill.
Rhea hovered uselessly for half a second, hands shaking.
"I've got her," Jian said. "Open the door."
Rhea ran to the car, fumbling with the handle, heart pounding so loudly she could barely hear the waves anymore. The door opened. Jian eased Ling into the back seat slowly, positioning her carefully, making sure her legs weren't twisted, her head supported.
Ling stared blankly at the ceiling of the car, tears still slipping silently into her hairline.
She didn't speak.
Rhea climbed in after her immediately, pulling Ling's head into her lap without thinking, fingers threading through damp black hair.
"I'm here," Rhea whispered urgently. "I'm here. Don't do this thing where you disappear."
Ling's lashes fluttered, but her eyes stayed unfocused.
Behind them, Rina stood frozen for a second—then she turned sharply.
She walked back toward the sand.
The blazer lay there like a discarded confession.
Heavy. Expensive. Useless now.
Rina bent down and picked it up.
She brushed the sand off automatically, hands slowing when her fingers reached the inner lapel.
Stitched there—clean, deliberate, permanent—
Rhea.
Rina swallowed hard.
"Idiot," she muttered under her breath—not cruel, not angry. Heartbroken.
She draped the blazer over her arm and walked back to the car.
When she opened the door, Rhea looked up, eyes red, face streaked.
Rina didn't say anything. She just placed the blazer gently over Ling's legs.
Rhea noticed.
Her breath hitched.
Ling's fingers twitched slightly, brushing the fabric instinctively, like muscle memory knew what her mind refused to process.
For the first time since the beach, Ling spoke.
"…why did you bring that?" she asked hoarsely, not opening her eyes.
Rina's voice was quiet. "Because you wore it for her."
Ling laughed once—a broken, humorless sound.
"She didn't want it."
Rhea snapped instantly.
"I never said that."
Ling's eyes finally opened.
Red. Empty. Exhausted.
"You didn't stop him," Ling said softly. No accusation. Just devastation.
Rhea leaned forward, voice shaking. "I did. I pulled away. You came in when his hand was still there."
Ling turned her face away.
"Timing still counts," she murmured.
The car fell into a heavy silence.
Jian shut the door carefully and moved to the driver's seat. "Hospital or home?"
Rhea answered without hesitation. "Home. Ours."
Ling exhaled shakily. "I don't want anyone looking at me."
Rhea tightened her grip in Ling's hair. "Too bad."
Ling didn't fight it.
As the car pulled away, Rhea pressed her palm against Ling's cheek, forcing her to look up.
"I didn't choose him," she said again, slower, firmer. "I chose badly in one moment. That's not the same thing."
Ling stared at her for a long time.
Then, barely audible: "I don't know how to survive loving you."
Rhea swallowed hard. "Then don't survive it alone."
Ling didn't reply.
But this time, she didn't pull away either.
And that—right now—was everything.