Chapter 8
1062 Words
Marcus’s POV
He sat through the meeting, shoulders straight, expression unreadable, while numbers and voices blurred into noise. His partners spoke, argued, agreed, but Marcus was elsewhere.
His thoughts drifted, stubbornly, to the woman who sold lilies.
He didn’t know her name. That should have made her easy to forget. Yet her eyes lingered in his mind; calm, steady, carrying a composure that felt strangely familiar. He was certain he had seen that gaze before.
She had refused his money.
Not gently. Not shyly. Just a quiet denial, the same way the other deaf woman once had. The memory unsettled him more than he cared to admit.
His fingers tightened against the table.
Then the image struck him without warning.
“The bangle,” he said aloud.
The room fell silent.
One of the partners paused mid-presentation.
“Mr. Marcus, is there something you’d like to say?”
Marcus lifted his gaze, realizing how far his thoughts had wandered. His face remained calm, composed.
“No,” he said evenly. “Please, continue.”
The meeting resumed, but his mind did not return with it.
On the other side of the mountains, Maya returned to Grandma Nan's cabin earlier than usual. She found Nan by the hearth, stirring a pot that released a familiar, comforting aroma.
“I thought you were going to come late,” Nan said without turning. “Why are you back so early?”
Maya sat on the veranda and removed her mask.
“All the flowers were bought early.”
Nan smiled. “That’s good. I was surprised, you know the way you mix those flowers. They used to grow uselessly on the mountain, and you gave them purpose.”
She turned then, expecting a smile in return.
But Maya wasn’t smiling.
“My child,” Nan said gently, “you sold everything. Why are you sad?”
Maya looked at her. This old woman was her savior; there was no reason to lie.
“I bumped into someone I know today.”
Nan turned at once, anxiety flickering across her face. “Who?”
Maya explained quietly. Since she had already told Nan about her past, there was no need to hide anything now. She told her about Marcus.
Nan listened, then spoke gently, “I don’t think he recognized you, my child. So don’t worry.”
Maya nodded, forcing a smile, and disappeared into the small house.
Nan watched after her, her expression soft but knowing. She understood how deeply Maya feared her past and how much pain lived there, waiting to be remembered.
The next morning, Maya went to her stall as usual. Selling flowers had become her routine now. Nan no longer sold vegetables ever since she began to heal; Maya had insisted she rest. This was her responsibility.
She looked around instinctively.
The black car was gone.
For a moment, she felt strangely relieved.
Because she thought she would never have to see him again, because he always reminded her of the past.
Midday approached.
Then the black SUV returned.
Maya’s heart began to race.
It was him.
Marcus stepped out and walked toward her, his gaze fixed, certain.
“We know each other,” he said. “We really do.”
Maya’s eyes widened.
“I-I don’t know you, sir,” she replied softly, avoiding his eyes.
“Then explain the bangle,” he said. “The first time I saw you at the hotel, you wore the same one. Just like now. The only difference is that you could speak and hear then, and you were pregnant.”
The word pregnant struck her like a wound.
She realized there was nothing left to hide. Denial would only draw this out.
“Yes,” she said at last. “We do know each other. I had an accident. I lost my baby. That’s why I am like this.”
She waited for him to step back.
Instead, he said quietly, “Was your husband involved?”
Maya stared at him.
“I’m sorry if I’m wrong,” Marcus added. “But the first time I saw you… it was strange. A man who loves his wife wouldn’t let her walk under that sun, delivering flowers, especially when she is deaf and mute.”
The words tore through the walls she had built.
Maya exhaled, tears filling her eyes. The past she had buried rose all at once. Before she could stop them, tears spilled over.
“Oh I’m sorry,” Marcus said at once. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
She sat down on the bench, weak. Marcus sat beside her.
She shook her head slowly.
“No… you didn’t hurt me.”
“But my husband did,” she said, her voice breaking. “And his mistress.”
And then, quietly, painfully, Maya told him everything.
Marcus was shaken. Disturbed.
How could they treat a woman like that, hurt her, break her, then leave her for dead in the mountains as if her life meant nothing?
Maya stood abruptly, realizing her emotions had betrayed her.
“That’s all, sir,” she said firmly, the words sharp, dismissive as if chasing him away.
Marcus rose as well.
“I have a deal for you.”
“A deal?” Maya echoed. “A deal?”
He nodded. “Yes. Those people hurt you deeply. And I’m certain you want them to pay for their sins.”
Maya stayed silent. Every word was true. She hated them.
“I can help you,” Marcus continued. “Change your face. Your identity. And take your revenge.”
She stared at him. “Why would you do that for me?”
He chuckled softly.
“Because it benefits me too. If we enter a contract marriage.”
Her eyes widened, but she listened.
“My mother wants me married,” he said. “Every woman who comes to me wants my money. But you, every time I try to tip you, you refuse. And on top of that we both have missions. I want to make my mother happy, and you want revenge.”
“You would be my wife in name, and I would help you with your revenge. No one would know we’re married until you’re done.”
He looked at her steadily.
“Will you take the offer?”
- Writer
