CHAPTER TWO
1231 Words
Guilt sat heavy in my chest as I stood by the door.
If I hadn’t agreed to let him take me home that night, none of this would have happened. He would still be fine—walking, laughing, living his normal life.
Instead, he was here.
Because of me.
“Quit standing there and come in.”
Jude’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts.
I blinked, surprised. I thought he’d be asleep.
Pushing the door open gently, I stepped inside and walked toward his bed.
“Hey,” I said softly, my eyes lingering on his leg before moving to his face—anywhere but his eyes.
“Hey,” he replied, reaching for my hand.
I stiffened for a second before letting him hold it.
“How are you?” I asked.
He let out a small breath and gestured toward his leg. “Well… you can see for yourself.”
My chest tightened. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“Hey,” he squeezed my hand lightly. “Don’t do that.”
I finally looked at him.
“It wasn’t your fault,” he continued. “If anyone’s to blame, it’s me. I was speeding.”
But that didn’t make it better.
“I still feel like it is,” I whispered. “If I didn’t let you—”
“Then make it up to me.”
I paused.
“What?”
“Visit me,” he said with a small smile. “As often as you can. That’ll make me happy.”
Something in my chest softened.
“I will,” I said quickly. “I promise. I’ll come see you… I’ll bring you things too.”
His smile widened, like that was all he needed.
⸻
By the time I left the hospital, the air felt cooler.
At least it wasn’t like the restaurant.
There were people around. Cars. Movement.
Life.
And yet, everything felt… off.
I was supposed to be dead.
I knew it.
So why was I still here?
And more importantly—
Who saved me?
Who paid my bills?
Because it definitely wasn’t my family.
They would’ve done the opposite.
“Move! You want to die?!”
The loud honk snapped me out of my thoughts.
I realized I had drifted into the road.
Quickly, I stepped back onto the pedestrian path, muttering an apology.
I exhaled slowly, looking ahead.
I still had a long way to go.
And no money.
No way to get a ride.
For a second, a ridiculous thought crossed my mind—smile, ask for help, maybe someone would pity me.
I shook it off immediately.
That wasn’t my life.
I’d walk.
Even if my legs gave out.
⸻
By the time I got there, my body felt like it was running on nothing.
I stood in front of the house.
My house.
Or at least… that’s what it was supposed to be.
A beautiful two-story building, always renovated, always perfect—just the way they liked it.
But to me?
It never felt like home.
Not once.
Voices drifted from inside before I even stepped in.
My stepmother’s laughter.
Loud. Forced. Fake.
My hand tightened slightly before I pushed the door open.
“Oh dear,” a woman’s voice said immediately. “Who’s that? You let strangers walk into your house now?”
Sasha turned.
The moment she saw me, her smile disappeared.
I didn’t wait.
I walked past them and headed upstairs.
“Oh, ignore her,” Sasha’s voice followed behind me. “She’s just the housemaid.”
I didn’t stop walking.
⸻
I stood in front of the mirror in my room.
If it could even be called that.
My reflection stared back at me—tired, bruised, unfamiliar.
I reached up, touching the bandage on my head carefully.
Pain shot through me.
I lowered my hand with a quiet sigh.
Clothes lay on my bed—old, worn, but clean.
I had just stepped toward the bathroom when—
The door slammed open.
“You little b***h!”
I barely had time to turn before—
SLAP!
My head snapped to the side.
Pain exploded through my cheek and skull.
“Look at this!” Sasha grabbed the back of my neck, forcing my head toward her phone.
“It hurts—please—” I struggled, my vision blurring.
I couldn’t see clearly, but the headline stood out.
“Unknown Lady and Her Boyfriend Attempt to Kill Most Eligible Billionaire!”
My breath caught.
Boyfriend?
Billionaire?
“You’re lucky no one identified you,” she spat, shoving me to the ground. “Or you’d be dealing with more than a slap.”
She turned to leave.
“Oh—and be downstairs in five minutes. Make lunch.”
The door slammed shut.
⸻
I didn’t move.
Tears slipped down quietly.
I pressed my lips together, trying to stop the sob building in my chest.
I missed my mother.
So much.
But wishes didn’t change anything.
This wasn’t a fairytale.
This was my life.
And I had to survive it.
I wiped my face and stood up slowly.
I just needed to keep going.
Work. Save. Finish my course.
That certificate was my way out.
⸻
Later, as I walked downstairs, I heard muffled voices.
“Wait… doesn’t she look familiar?”
My heart skipped.
“Have more champagne,” Sasha cut in quickly. “Let’s toast to my daughter’s arrival!”
I froze for a second.
Her daughter.
I remembered the day clearly.
Four days after my mother died, my father brought them home.
A ready-made family.
And just like that… I stopped being one.
⸻
I stayed in the kitchen, washing dishes when her guest left.
Not long after, my father came home.
Of course.
He was always early now.
“Welcome back, honey!” Sasha’s voice rang out.
“I missed you,” she added sweetly.
“I missed you too,” he replied.
I turned away, my stomach twisting.
⸻
Dinner was quiet.
Until—
“We should throw a party tomorrow,” Sasha said excitedly. “Our princess will be here in an hour.”
“I’ve missed her,” my father said warmly.
My grip tightened on the tray.
“Why are you still standing there?” Sasha snapped. “Get out!”
I quickly retreated to the kitchen, blinking back tears.
No matter how many times it happened…
It still hurt.
⸻
Later, I stood behind the kitchen door.
Listening.
“Michael, we need to talk,” Sasha said.
“What is it?”
“We can’t let our daughter marry into that family,” she whispered. “Not because of some debt.”
Silence.
Then—
“I’m thinking of a solution,” my father said.
Sasha laughed softly.
“There’s nothing to think about,” she said. “Use her.”
My heart stopped.
“That useless daughter of yours,” she continued. “She’s perfect for him.”
Silence again.
Then—
A slow chuckle.
“You’re right.”
The world around me tilted.
“She’s not worth anything anyway,” he added. “Better to give her off than waste an opportunity.”
I couldn’t move.
Couldn’t breathe.
The walls felt like they were closing in on me.
And for the first time since surviving death…
I wished I hadn’t
- Writer
