Please Forgive Me
HARDIN’S POV
I didn’t sleep.
I couldn’t.
The only time I closed my eyes was when I was praying, whispering quiet, desperate pleas into the dark. Every time Ariana’s heart monitor beeped, it felt like a lullaby and a siren all at once. I lived for those sounds now. Slept with my eyes open. Breathed only when she did.
The sun was just beginning to rise, casting gold through the half-drawn hospital blinds when I heard it.
A soft knock on the door.
I tensed, instinctively curling my fingers tighter around Ariana’s hand. I didn’t want anyone waking her, disturbing the fragile peace she was wrapped in.
The door creaked open slowly, and I turned toward it, ready to shut whoever it was out with a glare.
But then I saw her.
My mother.
I blinked once, unsure if I was hallucinating from sleep deprivation. But no, it was her. Tall, poised, her expensive coat draped over her arm. But her eyes… her eyes were glassy, red-rimmed, and her hair—usually pristine—was pulled back in a messy bun.
She looked… human. Soft, somehow. Small in a way I wasn’t used to seeing.
“Mom?” I stood up slowly, confused. “What are you doing here?”
Before I could take a step toward her, she crossed the room and wrapped her arms around me.
Tight.
Like she was afraid I’d disappear.
“I came as soon as I heard,” she whispered against my shoulder.
Her perfume was the same—roses and musk—but her voice cracked, and her fingers trembled as they gripped my back. I hesitated for half a beat, then wrapped my arms around her.
She pulled back just enough to look at me, her eyes flickering over my face, like she was checking for damage.
And then her gaze shifted.
To Ariana.
She went quiet.
I didn’t say anything. I just watched as she took a slow step forward, staring at the pale, still girl in the hospital bed. The one my mother had always insisted wasn’t right for me. The one she’d subtly tried to drive away again and again.
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed.
“She’ll be fine,” she said finally, softly. “I know she will.”
I narrowed my eyes. “That’s… not something I expected to hear from you.”
She turned to me, and for the first time in a long time, she looked raw. No masks. No control. Just emotion.
“I was wrong,” she said.
I blinked again.
What?
She took a deep breath, folding her arms across her chest like she needed the pressure to hold herself together.
“I can’t believe I tried to stand in the way of your happiness,” she said, her voice shaking. “I can’t believe I thought I was doing the right thing—convincing myself that Beatrice was better for you, that she’d be easier. Simpler. That a Miller would only bring chaos to your life.”
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
My mother—my mother—apologizing?
“I was so caught up in the past,” she went on. “In the stupid, toxic rivalry between our families. I let the name ‘Miller’ cloud my judgment, Hardin. I looked at Ariana and I saw that name. I saw pain. Loss. Bitterness. I didn’t see the woman you loved. The woman who loved you back.”
Her voice cracked, and she pressed a hand over her mouth for a second.
“I should’ve supported you,” she whispered. “From the very beginning. Especially after everything. After… after you were stolen from me. After I lost all those years with you. I should’ve held on to what I had left, not tried to control it.”
“Mom…” I said softly.
But she wasn’t done.
“I was given a second chance. With you. I should’ve cherished it. But instead, I tried to play puppet master. I tried to rewrite your life into something that fit my idea of perfection.”
Her eyes were brimming now, her face flushed.
“She makes you happy,” she said, almost in disbelief. “God… she really makes you happy. I see it now. And I’m so sorry, Hardin. For not seeing it sooner.”
She stepped forward and pulled me into another hug, burying her face in my chest. I let my arms close around her again, tighter this time, resting my chin on the top of her head.
“It’s okay,” I whispered. “You’re here now. That’s what matters.”
“No,” she said, voice muffled. “It’s not okay. But thank you. Thank you for not shutting me out even after all of it.”
I laughed softly, wiping my face with the sleeve of my hoodie. “Stop it, Mom. You’re going to turn me into a sentimental wreck.”
She chuckled through her tears and pulled back to look at me. “Too late.”
I shook my head, grinning faintly. “I’m glad you’ve come to your senses.”
Her expression sobered again as she looked at Ariana.
“She’s strong,” she said quietly. “Even unconscious, she looks like she’s fighting. I get it now. Why you chose her. Why you’d give up everything to protect her.”
“I didn’t give up anything,” I said. “She is everything.”
My mom smiled through her tears. “You sound like your father.”
I chuckled.
I kissed the side of her head gently and gave her one more squeeze. “Thanks for coming, Mom.”
“Thanks for letting me,” she whispered back.
We stayed there for a few seconds, holding each other, the silence filled with the hum of machines and the steady rhythm of Ariana’s heart monitor.
Then—
A sound.
Soft. Barely there.
A tiny inhale.
I turned sharply.
My heart stopped.
Ariana’s fingers twitched in mine.
Then… her eyelids fluttered.
I froze, not daring to breathe, my chest caving in around the hope that suddenly roared to life inside me.
She blinked again.
Slowly.
And then her eyes opened.
Those beautiful, blue eyes.
They were hazy, unfocused at first—but they found me.
Locked onto me like they always did.
“Ariana?” I breathed, barely above a whisper. “Baby…?”
She blinked again.
A slow, sleepy smile curved at the corners of her mouth.
And that was all it took.
I broke.
My knees buckled and I nearly collapsed onto the bed, laughter and sobs mixing as I pressed kisses to her hand, her wrist, her forehead, her cheeks.
“You’re awake,” I choked out. “You’re really awake.”
She looked at me again.
And whispered the word that shattered me.
“Hardin…”
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