Chapter Five
1163 Words
Amelia's pov
The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes the next morning, was the smell sharp, sterile, the kind that clung to the back of your throat. The second was the steady beep-beep-beep of a machine to my right. My body felt like it had been filled with lead, every limb heavy, pinned down.
A ceiling painted too white swam into focus, and for a moment, I thought I’d died. But then the ache hit me—a dull, throbbing reminder of bones and bruises and a heart too fragile to keep carrying this much weight.
I tried to move, but a low groan escaped instead. My throat was dry. My lips cracked. The last memory clawed back into me: walking alone on the street, clutching my chest, refusing to look back at the house I’d just walked out of. Ethan’s house. Ethan’s lies. Ethan’s betrayal.
I swallowed hard, tasting bitterness.
Then I heard a chair scrape.
“Amelia.”
His voice wasn’t the one I expected. It wasn’t Ethan’s cold, detached tone. It was steadier, lower, almost… careful.
Daniel.
My heart twisted in confusion. What was he doing here? He leaned forward from the chair beside my bed, dark shadows carved beneath his eyes. His hair was a little messier than usual, and for once, the perfect, composed mask he always wore around Ethan was cracked.
He’d been here. Waiting.
I turned my head slightly, wincing at the ache in my temples. “Why… why are you still here?” My voice was raspy, thin, like paper being torn.
He hesitated. His gaze softened as it locked with mine, and I hated how much that look warmed something inside me. “Because you shouldn’t be alone right now.”
I almost laughed bitter, sharp. “Alone is all I’ve ever been.”
Something flickered in his expression pain? Regret? I couldn’t read it. Daniel wasn’t the type to show much. Not like Ethan, who knew exactly how to wound with every glance and every word.
The thought of Ethan made bile rise in my throat. I pressed a trembling hand to my stomach protective, instinctive. My secret. My burden.
Daniel noticed the movement. His eyes narrowed slightly. “You scared the hell out of me last night,” he said, his tone deeper now, anger lacing the edges. “Collapsing on the street? Do you even realize what could’ve happened?”
The words pricked at me. I didn’t want his concern. I didn’t deserve it. I bit my lip hard enough to taste copper. “You shouldn’t care,” I whispered. “You’re not… you’re not my husband.”
For a second, silence pressed between us. The monitor beeped, steady and cruel, reminding me I was still here when all I wanted was to disappear.
“No,” Daniel said finally, leaning forward, his forearms braced on his knees. His voice dropped, steady, cutting through the air like a blade. “But I’m not blind either. Something’s wrong, Amelia. You’ve been walking around like a ghost for weeks. What did Ethan do?” this question again?!!
The name hit me like a slap. I closed my eyes. Memories surged the lipstick on his collar, the late-night calls he always silenced, the way he flinched when I tried to touch him. The woman’s perfume that lingered on his shirt when he came home.
I couldn’t say it out loud. If I said it, it would be real.
“I don’t… ” My throat tightened. My chest ached like it was tearing itself in two. “Please, Daniel. Don’t ask me that.”
He exhaled sharply, pushing a hand through his hair. His frustration was clear, but he kept his voice measured. “You think hiding it will protect you? Because it won’t. Whatever it is, it’s eating you alive.” His jaw flexed. “And Ethan’s letting it.”
I flinched.
Daniel saw. He always saw too much.
His hand moved slightly, like he wanted to reach for mine, but I pulled back before he could. The distance between us stretched like a wound.
My lips trembled. “Stop pretending like you care. You’ll run back to him and tell him everything anyway. You’re his friend, not mine.”
That stung him I saw it. For a split second, the mask slipped, and there was something raw in his eyes. Hurt. Maybe even guilt.
But he didn’t deny it.
Instead, he stood abruptly, pacing the small space between the bed and the door. His broad shoulders were tense, every line of his body carved with restrained fury. “You don’t get it, do you? I’m here because Ethan isn’t. Because he doesn’t even know how to look at what’s right in front of him without destroying it.” His gaze snapped back to mine. “And you deserve better than that.”
My breath caught.
The words pierced through me, deeper than I wanted to admit. Nobody had said that to me before. Nobody had dared.
The door creaked open suddenly, making me jump. Ethan stepped in.
My stomach dropped.
He looked flawless, as always. Crisp suit, polished shoes, hair neatly styled like nothing in his world was ever allowed to be messy. Except me. His gaze flickered to the bed, then to Daniel, lingering just a fraction too long.
“What are you doing here?” Ethan asked, his tone sharp, almost mocking.
Daniel didn’t flinch. He didn’t step back either. “Taking care of what you left behind.”
Tension crackled in the room, thick and suffocating.
I gripped the blanket tighter, my pulse racing. Ethan’s eyes shifted to me briefly, and I swear I saw something cold in them resentment, annoyance. Not love. Never love.
He muttered something about work, something about me needing rest, but his words barely registered. My ears were tuned only to the silence between him and Daniel, the kind of silence that screamed louder than shouting.
When Ethan finally left, the door clicking shut behind him, I let out a shaky breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
But Daniel didn’t sit back down. He lingered by the door, his back to me. I heard him exhale, low, rough, like he was holding back words he wasn’t supposed to say. Then, quietly, he stepped out.
The muffled voices began almost immediately in the hallway.
I shouldn’t have listened. But I did.
“Stay out of this, Daniel.” Ethan’s voice low, hard. “She’s not your problem.”
My heart stilled.
Daniel’s reply was sharper, laced with something dangerous. “She’s not yours either. Not anymore.”
The air in my lungs vanished. I clutched my stomach, trembling, as though those words had been aimed at me, not Ethan.
Tears burned hot behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.
Because for the first time, I didn’t just feel broken.
I felt the first spark of something else.
"Something dangerous."
- Writer
