Forced To Marry My Cousin's Fiancé

Chapter 11: Chapter 11

The mansion was silent except for the faint ticking of the clock downstairs and the distant sound of wind brushing softly against the tall windows. Most of the lights had already been turned off by the staff, leaving only the warm glow of lamps along the hallways.

Lane stood inside her bathroom after finishing her shower, slowly drying her hair with a towel while exhaustion settled deeply into her body.

The day had been calm. But Lonely. And lately, calm was enough for her.

She changed into soft sleep clothes afterward and carefully applied lotion against her skin, moving slower now because even simple movements tired her more easily these days. Pregnancy had changed small things she never expected.

Her body felt heavier.More sensitive. And emotionally... Some nights were harder than others. Tonight was one of them.

Lane sighed softly before sitting at the edge of the bed. She didn’t want to think about Ethan tonight.

Thinking about him too much always left her chest aching afterward.

So instead, she focused on smaller things.

Her vitamins beside the bedside table.

The folded baby pamphlets from the doctor.

The tiny ultrasound picture she kept carefully hidden inside her drawer.

That picture had slowly become precious to her.

Proof that even inside all this loneliness, something beautiful still existed.

Lane gently rested a hand against her stomach and closed her eyes briefly.

"You should sleep early tonight," she whispered softly.

As if the baby could hear her already. A faint smile touched her lips. Then suddenly—

The sound of a car pulling up outside broke the silence. Lane blinked slightly and looked toward the window.

It was late. Much later than Ethan usually returned. A few seconds later, another sound followed. A car door shutting.

Then, almost immediately after— The vehicle drove away again.Lane frowned faintly. Did Ethan come home in a taxi?

That alone felt strange. Normally Ethan drove himself or had his driver.

Curiosity mixed faintly with concern inside her chest before she could stop it. For a moment she considered ignoring it.

Going back to bed. Pretending none of it mattered.

But eventually concern won. It always did when it came to Ethan. Lane slipped on a cardigan before quietly leaving her room and heading downstairs.

The mansion remained dark and silent around her. The maids had already gone to sleep hours ago, leaving the entire house unusually still.

As Lane reached the bottom of the staircase, she immediately saw him.

Ethan stood near the entrance.Or rather—

Barely stood. One hand rested heavily against the wall while the other loosened his tie impatiently. His movements were slower than usual, less controlled, and even from where Lane stood, she could tell immediately.

He was drunk.Not slightly.Completely.Lane froze for a moment in surprise. She had never seen Ethan like this before.

Ethan Blackwood was always composed.

Always Sharp. The type of man who never allowed himself to lose control publicly.

Yet now he looked exhausted in a way she had never witnessed before. His hair was slightly disheveled. His tie hung loose around his neck. And there was something strangely empty in his eyes.

Lane stayed still near the stairs, unsure what to do. Ethan didn’t notice her immediately.

He walked farther into the living room slowly before dropping heavily onto the sofa, leaning back with his eyes closed.

Silence filled the room afterward. Lane hesitated. Part of her wanted to go back upstairs.

Because every time she got close to Ethan emotionally, she ended up hurt.

But another part of her couldn’t leave him like this.Not when he looked so exhausted.

So she stayed. Watching quietly from a distance for several moments.

Ethan remained motionless against the sofa, breathing slowly, one arm hanging loosely beside him.

Lane’s chest tightened slightly.He looked human like this,not cold.

And somehow that felt more dangerous for her heart than his usual distance.

Slowly, carefully, Lane walked closer.

"Ethan?"

No response.

She stopped beside the sofa and studied him quietly.The scent of alcohol lingered heavily around him now. Lane sighed softly before crouching slightly beside him.

"You can’t sleep here."

Still nothing. For a second she almost smiled sadly. Even drunk, Ethan ignored her.

Lane carefully reached for his arm.

"Ethan," she tried again gently.

This time his eyes opened slightly.Heavy with exhaustion. For a brief moment, he looked at her without speaking.

And strangely— Without coldness.That alone made Lane’s chest ache.

"You should go upstairs," she whispered softly.

Ethan stared at her for another few seconds before finally attempting to stand. The movement almost failed immediately.

Lane quickly steadied him before he lost balance completely.

Her breath caught faintly when his weight leaned partly against her. Even exhausted and drunk, Ethan still felt overwhelming this close .Dangerously familiar.

Lane swallowed carefully before helping him toward the stairs slowly.

The entire walk upstairs was quiet except for Ethan’s uneven breathing and Lane’s soft reminders to be careful. His arm rested heavily around her shoulders while she struggled slightly under his weight, but she never complained.

Some part of her was simply relieved he allowed her near him at all.

When they finally reached his room, Lane carefully guided him toward the bed.

Ethan sat down heavily near the edge while Lane knelt slightly to remove his shoes.

The room smelled faintly of his cologne mixed with alcohol.

Everything around her suddenly felt too intimate. Too quiet. Lane focused carefully on simple tasks instead.

Removing his shoes.

Straightening the blankets.

Helping him sit properly.

She tried not to think about how many times she imagined caring for him like this years ago when she loved him silently from afar.

Back then she imagined tenderness. Not heartbreak.

Ethan remained unusually quiet while she worked, his eyes half closed as though exhaustion was finally catching up with him fully.

Lane stood afterward and hesitated briefly before reaching for the buttons of his dress shirt carefully.

"You’ll be uncomfortable sleeping like this," she murmured softly.

Her fingers trembled slightly despite herself as she unbuttoned the first few buttons slowly.

Then suddenly—Ethan’s hand closed around her wrist. Lane froze instantly.

Before she could react properly, Ethan pulled her forward unexpectedly.

A startled breath escaped her lips as her balance disappeared completely.

The next second, Lane found herself pinned gently against the bed beneath him.

Her heartbeat slammed violently against her chest.

Ethan hovered above her, one hand beside her head while his other still held her wrist loosely.

His eyes remained unfocused from alcohol, dark gaze fixed on her face in a way that made her breath catch painfully.

"Ethan..."

Her voice came out barely above a whisper.

For a moment neither of them moved.

Then Ethan leaned down suddenly and kissed her.

Lane’s eyes widened instantly. At first, instinct made her push weakly against him in surprise.

But the moment shattered her defenses too quickly.

Because this was Ethan. The man she had loved for years. The man she still loved despite everything.

And beneath all the loneliness and pain, some weak broken part of her still craved him desperately.

Her resistance slowly weakened. Painfully.

Her fingers tightened slightly against his shirt as emotion overwhelmed her chest.

For one terrible moment, Lane allowed herself to melt into it.

Allowed herself to pretend. Pretend this meant something. Pretend he wanted her.

Pretend she wasn’t alone.

Then Ethan whispered softly against her skin—

"Olivia..."

Everything inside Lane shattered instantly.

Her body went completely still beneath him.

The warmth disappeared.The illusion vanished. Reality returned all at once.

Ethan wasn’t seeing her. Wasn’t kissing her.

Wasn’t holding Lane at all.

Tears burned painfully behind her eyes almost immediately.

Ethan had mistaken her for Olivia.

Even now.Even like this.

Lane slowly turned her face away as heartbreak crashed heavily through her chest.

For a second she thought she might cry right there beneath him.

But instead, she gently pushed against him again.

This time Ethan offered no resistance.

Exhaustion had already begun dragging him back toward unconsciousness.

Lane slowly sat up afterward, her breathing uneven while she tried desperately to steady herself emotionally.

Ethan barely seemed aware anymore.

Within moments, he had fallen back heavily against the bed, eyes closed again.

Lane stared at him silently.

Her chest hurt so badly she could barely breathe properly.

But even then...

Even then she still carefully adjusted the blankets around him.

Still removed his loosened tie gently.

Still made sure he was comfortable.

That was the cruelest part of loving Ethan Blackwood.

No matter how much he hurt her—

Lane’s heart still chose him anyway.

She stepped back from the bed slowly afterward, wiping quickly at the tears finally escaping her eyes.

Then quietly, almost painfully softly, she whispered,

"Goodnight, Ethan."

And left his room alone

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