The door closed.
And this time—
the silence didn't feel tense.
It felt… heavy.
Too heavy.
Cheng Mo's arm was still around me.
But it wasn't the same anymore.
Not protective.
Not possessive.
Just… there.
Like he hadn't figured out how to let go.
I stepped forward.
Out of his hold.
The movement was small—
but it created distance.
Real distance.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then my eyes drifted—
to the hospital bed.
To her.
Still.
Unmoving.
Because of him.
My chest tightened painfully.
"…What did you do?"
My voice was quiet.
But steady.
Cheng Mo went still behind me.
"I want to hear it," I added. "From you."
A pause.
Long.
Dragging.
"I told you," he said. "I hurt her."
"That's not enough."
I turned.
Facing him fully now.
My eyes didn't leave his.
"What did you do to my mother?"
This time—
he didn't answer immediately.
Something shifted in his expression.
Not guilt alone.
Something more complicated.
"I didn't plan for this," he said finally.
My fingers curled.
"That's not what I asked."
Silence.
Then—
a breath.
Slow.
Measured.
"I wanted to scare her," he said.
The words landed differently.
Not sharp.
Not defensive.
Just… honest.
"I arranged for someone to follow her.
Make it look dangerous. Enough that she'd feel it."
My heartbeat started to rise.
"But it went wrong," he continued, jaw tightening. "The situation escalated. I wasn't there."
His voice lowered.
"When I got the call… she was already in the hospital."
The room felt colder.
"You're saying this wasn't supposed to happen?" I asked.
"No."
No hesitation.
No excuse.
"I wanted to threaten," he said. "Not… this."
My eyes flickered to the bed again.
To her.
And then back to him.
"You still caused it."
"I know."
Immediate.
Firm.
That hurt more than denial would have.
"Then why—" my voice faltered slightly, "why come near me after that?"
That question stayed between us.
Cheng Mo didn't look away.
"Because I couldn't stay away."
Simple.
Unpolished.
True.
I let out a shaky breath.
"I wanted to ask you this for so long," I admitted. "But I didn't."
"Because you knew?" he asked quietly.
I didn't answer.
Didn't need to.
The silence said enough.
For the first time—
he didn't step closer.
Didn't try to reach for me.
He just stood there.
And let me process it.
Everything.
"I don't know what to do with this," I said after a moment.
My voice felt distant.
Like it didn't belong to me.
"You don't have to decide now," he replied.
That surprised me.
A little.
"You're just… okay with that?" I asked.
"No," he said.
A pause.
Then—
"But I'll wait."
And somehow—
that felt heavier than anything else he'd said.