Could the day get any worse? It was usually said that things could always be worse, but was that also true when you lost everything important to you in one fell swoop?

With a soft sigh, Ryker put his rucksack beside the bed before sinking onto the rumpled sheets. No, he couldn't sink any lower. That was impossible.

"Bloody hell..." the detective muttered into his beard before raising his hands and burying his face in them. But Ryker saw her face as soon as he closed his eyes. The betrayal, the pain, and the way she flinched away from him as he reached for her. The wide-open eyes as the realization hit. An image that followed him like a dark shadow made his broad, muscular shoulders tremble.

He felt the first small drop trickle into his palm and disappear. A tear. The first to fall, preceding the trembling sobs that began to shake him. God, yes, damn it, he had played a game in the beginning. He'd followed Dylan's order before putting the puzzle pieces together and stumbled upon the truth. He'd betrayed Kaylen. But that was before this woman had thrown him off balance and rocked his whole world. She and the little whirlwind that brought a genuine smile to his lips. Eve and Liam's laughter had been like a gift. A warmth that melted his cold heart and a light that filled his dull, lonely life with new meaning.

"What have you done?" he whispered to himself. He had known it would come to this. Ray had known that the mask would fall one day. It had been clear to him from the start. And yet he had avoided the conversation, fled from the truth, hid, and lived the lie as if it were real. As if Dylan didn't exist.

But at some point, the shadows of the past caught up with him. Ryker was constantly confronted with it and knew that better than anyone.

So why?

Why hadn't he sought a dialogue when he had the chance?

Why had he run away?

Had he hoped to get more time?

Or was he simply afraid of what would happen if he laid his cards on the table?

Sobbing, he sucked the air into his lungs again as he lifted his head from his hands, exposing the delicate, shiny rivulets that ran down his tanned skin.

He didn't know and didn't know the answer to the questions that plagued him as much as the gnawing guilt inside him. All he knew was that the thought of never seeing Eve again was almost killing him.

He knew he had made a big mistake but couldn't just turn away and forget everything. He couldn't return to his life and continue as if nothing had happened without talking to Kaylen.

But how was he supposed to do that? How was he supposed to explain to her that his feelings weren't a lie? Shit, she wasn't even listening to him. Didn't give him a chance to defend himself and clear up the misunderstanding. And the worst thing was... he understood why she was doing this.

Why should she? She had suffered under Dylan and had endured lies and violence, probably for many years, until she ran away from her husband. Only to sink into his arms and feel a knife in her back again... Just when she was getting back on her feet. 'Eve' had built a new life for herself, only to be betrayed once again. By him, of all people.

Shaking, Ryker struggled to his feet and wiped the tears from his face before stopping in front of the small table piled high with a sea of papers, sketches, and files. Looking at the chaos, it was almost a miracle that he hadn't been found out earlier because the hospital files were still peeking between the repair bills. A closer look would have been enough. A curious soul who took the time to untangle his mess. From that point of view, he had even been lucky to have until today...

With a slow movement, he pushed some of the papers aside, only to stare at the dark letters for a moment.

'Kaylen Conner, broken wrist after falling down stairs'

His hand twitched instinctively—crumpled creases formed on the white paper. Involuntarily, Ryker pressed his lips tighter together. Kaylen had had to put up with far too much in her life. Did he want to build this relationship on fragile ground? On lies that had destroyed their first marriage?

Maybe it was better if he left ... Better for her. Better for Liam. She wasn't entirely wrong when she said the boy didn't need a second lying father figure. What Laim needed was a father who loved him, cared for him, and ... made Kaylen happy. And maybe... that wasn't him.

Just the thought of it tore at his heart. But you couldn't choose your fate; you were at its mercy. And if that meant that he and the young mother would part, then perhaps that was the case.

The sheets rustled as he folded them into a disorganized, messy pile and slid them into the red folder. He had to face the fact - he had destroyed everything and had to live with it. He had to pack up and go. Lock up, just like Eve would do one day.

With the folder in his hand, he returned to the rucksack, which lay on the ground like a fallen soldier. It wouldn't be long before he had his things stowed away. It was only early evening, and the time he had left seemed almost agonizingly long to fill with stowing his belongings. But he had to get some rest. Last night had been short, the day exhausting, and if he were to leave before Liam woke up, he would have to go before dawn. For now, he would probably have to look for accommodation in Silvershore for a few days and then get to the bus center to find out when the next bus will pass this town. Maybe he could hitch a ride, or someone could lift him to the next village...

Accompanied by a quiet whirring sound, he pulled open the zip of his faithful companion of the last few years. The mouth of the rucksack gaped open, revealing the small brown box crumpled and loveless inside.

Swallowing hard, his forehead creased deeply. In all the chaos, he had forgotten entirely about the parcel. It shouldn't have been any of his business, but his rough fingers reached for the box and pulled it out of his rucksack before Ray lowered himself back onto the bed with the small box.

It wasn't his. It belonged to Eve, like all the other little presents on the terrace and that he had sometimes made disappear before they could cause trouble. Flowers, chocolates.

Ray knew he should give it to her now that she knew Dylan was around anyway. And yet, there was a feeling. A murmur that whispered in his ear that he should take a look.

For a moment, the parcel moved back and forth in his hands as if floating on the water like a message in a bottle, following the rhythm of the waves. He was torn. On the one hand, he knew it would be wrong. On the other hand, it couldn't get any worse than it already was.

"So what..." he finally encouraged himself. What did he have to lose? He really couldn't fall any lower.

Ray took a deep breath, then closed his hand around the brown cardboard box. With a sharp jerk, he tore it open, and a small box wrapped in blue velvet fell into his lap.

"What the heck?" Ray gasped in disbelief. Not just any box, but a jewelry box. The packaging fell to the floor beside his legs, where he pushed it aside. The detective picked up the box and held his breath before opening the lid.

His heartbeat accelerated suddenly.

"You filthy bastard..." he hissed quietly but full of seething anger.

Dylan wouldn't give up, even though his back was against the wall. No, he even had the crazy idea of putting THAT in a box. Ray would have loved to wring the arsehole's neck...

"That's going too far," Ray growled. No, he wasn't going to let this one slide. Whatever had happened between him and Kaylen, he wouldn't let Dylan lay a hand on the young mum again or continue to inflict such psychological terror on her. Over his dead body!

Grumbling, he reached for the small piece of jewelry and pulled it out of the soft cushion. A small golden ring shone between his fingers. An almost transparent gemstone gleamed on the top. As Ray turned it, his gaze fell on a dark, slightly worn inscription inside.

"Now and Forever," he read, gritting his teeth. "No fuckin' way, scumbag..." Ray hissed and closed his hand around the wedding ring so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He had to suppress the impulse to hurl the precious piece of jewelry across the room.

No.

He would save that for when he looked Dylan in the eye and confronted him with all the crap he had pulled in the last few weeks. Yes, he had made a mistake, no question about it. But he could at least make up for it by setting Dylan's head straight.

He would leave first thing in the morning, as Kaylen had asked. But he wouldn't leave Silvershore until Dylan was gone too, and 'Eve' got the life she wanted so much and deserved: Free and carefree, without lies and chains of any kind - even those made of deceptively shiny gold.