Collide Into Ruin

The fluorescent lights of Nexus Hospital cast a sterile glow over the private patient room, the beeping of the monitors the only sound breaking the uncomfortable silence. Chase sat propped up in bed, absently poking at a cup of lime Jell-O with a plastic spoon. The artificial sweetness barely registered on his tongue. Across from him, his parents, James and Isabelle Blackwood, sat in stiff-backed chairs, their gazes heavy with unspoken worry.

James, his ever-stern father, let out a slow, measured breath before finally breaking the silence. "Why are you doing this to yourself, Chase?" His voice was firm, laced with an anger that barely masked the deeper emotion beneath—fear.

Chase swallowed; his throat dry. "I'm not—"

"Don't give me that," James cut him off, his sharp gaze burning into his son. "Look at you. You're in a goddamn hospital eating Jell-O like a child. This isn't you. This isn't the son I raised. What the hell is going on?"

Isabelle reached out, gently placing her hand over Chase's. Unlike her husband, her worry was not hidden beneath layers of frustration; it was raw, etched into every line of her face. "Sweetheart, we just want to understand. We want to help."

Chase averted his eyes, staring blankly at the green gelatin wobbling on his spoon. "I don't know what to say," he admitted, voice hoarse. Because what could he say? That he'd lost control? That every decision he had made recently had driven him further into a place he didn't recognize? That the weight of his mistakes felt like they were crushing him from the inside out?

James scoffed, shaking his head. "You used to know exactly what to say. At business dinners, at meetings—you had charm, confidence. But now? You look lost, Chase. And I don't recall any dinner being scheduled for tonight. What dinner was so important that you ended up here?"

Chase exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. "It wasn't a dinner. I heard something about Emilia." His voice wavered on her name, the sound of it like an open wound tearing wider.

James's expression softened. "What about Emilia?"

Chase hesitated, fingers tightening around the cup in his hands. "She's engaged. Already. It's only been six months." The words felt foreign leaving his lips, unreal and bitter at the same time. He forced out a hollow laugh. "Guess it didn't take her long to move on."

Isabelle's lips parted slightly, concern softening her features. "Chase..."

"No," he cut in, shaking his head, his heart pounding against his ribs. "I know it's my fault. I should've trusted her. I should've talked to her instead of running along with the one person who has done nothing but wreck my life over and over again." His chest rose and fell with the force of his breath, the emotions he'd buried for months crashing down on him. "I thought I was making the right decision. I thought I was protecting myself. But I wasn't—I was just scared."

His father studied him for a long moment before leaning back in his chair, disappointment and something else—something more painful—settling into his features. "So, you're telling me, after all this time, you finally realize you were wrong? After you've already lost her?"

Chase squeezed his eyes shut. "I knew I lost her the moment I accused her of something she never did. But it didn't hit me, not really, until I heard she was engaged. That's when I knew—she was never coming back. And I don't blame her. I just..." His voice cracked, and he shook his head. "I hate that I let it happen."

Isabelle squeezed his hand, her touch warm and familiar, grounding him. "Sweetheart, regret is heavy, but it doesn't have to be the end of your story."

Chase let out a shaky breath. "I just don't know how to be the man I used to be."