Chapter 4
1563 Words
Thelma’s POV
“How do you know my name?”
The question came out sharper than I expected.
His expression didn’t change.
Not even a flicker.
For a second, I thought he wouldn’t answer.
“You had a bag,” he said casually. “Your ID was inside.”
I stared at him.
Something about that didn’t sit right.
But I couldn’t prove it.
So I let it go.
For now.
My legs were still weak, my body still aching, but I forced myself to move anyway.
I walked back to the bed.
Not because he told me to.
But because I didn’t trust my body not to betray me again.
I sat down slowly, exhaling as the pain settled into something dull and manageable.
Silence filled the room again.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
“Thank you,” I said after a moment, my voice quieter now.
The words felt strange.
Unfamiliar.
But they needed to be said.
“For… last night.”
Another pause.
“I didn’t do it for you.”
I blinked.
Of course he didn’t.
That answer shouldn’t have surprised me.
Still… it did.
“Right,” I muttered.
That was fine.
I didn’t need kindness.
I just needed to leave.
“I’ll go as soon as I can walk properly,” I added, glancing at him.
His gaze stayed on me for a second longer than necessary.
Like he was assessing something.
Weighing it.
“Eat first,” he said.
I frowned slightly.
“I’m not…”
“You’ll pass out again if you don’t.”
His tone didn’t change.
Still calm.
Still controlled.
Still… not a request.
“I’ll manage,” I said.
I had managed this long.
I didn’t need
My stomach betrayed me.
A soft, embarrassing sound broke the silence.
I froze.
He didn’t react.
At least… not visibly.
But I saw it.
That slight shift in his eyes.
Like he noticed everything.
“I’ll have something brought in,” he said, already turning toward the door.
“I said I’m fine….”
The door opened.
Then closed.
Just like that.
I stared at it.
Annoyed.
Frustrated.
And… something else.
Something I didn’t want to name.
A few minutes later, a woman walked in quietly with a tray.
She smiled at me….soft, kind.
The complete opposite of him.
“Please eat,” she said gently, placing it on the table beside the bed.
I hesitated.
Then nodded.
“Thank you.”
The moment she left, I looked down at the food.
Warm.
Fresh.
More than I’d eaten in… I couldn’t even remember.
I picked up the fork slowly.
Took a bite.
And froze.
It shouldn’t have mattered.
It was just food.
But something about it
Something about sitting in a quiet room, eating without fear, without rushing, without someone watching or criticizing
My throat tightened.
I swallowed quickly.
Blinking hard.
“No,” I whispered to myself. “Don’t do that.”
I wasn’t going to cry over food.
Not here.
Not now.
I forced myself to keep eating.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Like it might disappear if I rushed.
By the time I was done, my body felt… different.
Still sore.
Still tired.
But stronger.
A knock came at the door.
Then it opened.
He walked in again.
Jack.
His eyes went straight to the tray.
Empty.
Then to me.
“Good,” he said.
Just that.
I rolled my eyes slightly.
“You’re very bossy, you know that?”
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
He paused.
Then looked at me.
Really looked this time.
“People who don’t listen,” he said calmly, “tend to create problems.”
I raised a brow.
“And people who give orders like that tend to annoy others.”
Silence.
For a second…
I thought I had gone too far.
Something unexpected happened.
His lips twitched.
Just slightly.
Not quite a smile.
But close.
I blinked.
Did I just…..
No.
I must’ve imagined it.
“You’re not leaving today,” he said, just like that.
Back to cold.
I sighed.
“I figured.”
“Rest,” he added.
“And then?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
Just looked at me again.
That same unreadable expression.
“We’ll see.”
That didn’t sound reassuring.
At all.
As he turned to leave again, something in me tightened.
A thought.
A realization.
I didn’t know this man.
I didn't understand him.
Didn’t trust him.
But somehow…
I had a feeling my life had just changed again.
And this time…
I wasn’t sure if it was for the better…
Or worse.
….
I didn’t like sitting still.
Not here.
Not in a place that didn’t belong to me.
By afternoon, the pain had dulled enough for me to stand without feeling like I’d collapse immediately.
Not fully better.
But better than before.
I swung my legs off the bed slowly, testing my weight.
Careful.
Measured.
This time, I didn’t fall.
“Okay…” I whispered to myself.
Good enough.
The room was quiet.
Too quiet.
No shouting.
No footsteps outside my door.
No tension crawling under my skin.
It felt… unfamiliar.
I walked toward the door, hesitating for just a second before opening it.
The hallway outside was wide.
Bright.
Clean in a way that didn’t feel real.
My steps were slow as I moved forward, my eyes scanning everything without meaning to.
Framed paintings.
Soft lighting.
Floors so polished I could almost see my reflection.
This wasn’t just a house.
It was something else entirely.
Voices drifted from downstairs.
Low. Calm.
Nothing like the sharp, cutting tone I was used to hearing every day.
I followed the sound.
Carefully.
When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I stopped.
The space opened up into a large living area.
Minimal, elegant, expensive.
Everything looked like it had a place.
Like nothing was there by accident.
“Miss?”
I turned quickly.
A woman stood a few steps away, holding a folded cloth in her hands.
She looked to be in her late forties, maybe early fifties.
Her expression was gentle.
Kind.
Not something I was used to.
“I….I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “I didn’t mean to…”
“You don’t have to apologize,” she said softly, shaking her head. “You’re a guest.”
The word felt strange.
Guest.
I almost laughed.
“I’m Rosa,” she added with a small smile.
I nodded slowly.
“Thelma.”
“I know.”
Of course she did.
Her eyes moved over me briefly….not in a judgmental way, not like she was picking me apart.
More like she was… checking.
Making sure I was okay.
“Are you feeling better?” she asked.
“A little,” I said.
That was enough.
“Good,” she replied gently. “You gave us quite a scare.”
Us.
That word stuck for a second.
“I didn’t mean to,” I said quietly.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” she said immediately.
The certainty in her voice caught me off guard.
I looked away for a moment, unsure how to respond to that.
I wasn’t used to people saying things like that.
Not to me.
“Would you like something to eat?” she asked after a second.
“I already ate,” I said quickly.
She nodded.
“Then maybe tea?”
I hesitated.
“Okay.”
We moved into the kitchen.
And for a second, I just… stood there.
It was bigger than the entire place I used to live in.
Clean, bright and quiet.
Everything is neatly arranged.
No mess. No tension.
No feeling like I had to rush or get out of the way.
“You can sit,” Rosa said gently, pulling out a chair for me.
I sat slowly.
Still taking everything in.
She moved around the kitchen with ease, preparing tea like it was second nature.
No stress.
No pressure.
Just… calm.
“You’ve been here long?” I asked before I could stop myself.
She smiled slightly.
“Long enough.”
That told me everything and nothing at the same time.
“Is he always like that?” I added carefully.
She glanced at me.
Then smiled a little more.
“Yes.”
I huffed a small breath, leaning back slightly.
“Thought so.”
“He’s not a bad man,” she said after a moment.
I didn’t respond.
I didn’t know him enough to agree with that.
Or disagree.
“He just doesn’t let people in easily,” she added.
That… I believed.
“Here,” she said, placing a cup in front of me.
“Thank you.”
I wrapped my hands around it, letting the warmth settle into my skin.
For a moment…
Everything felt still.
Safe.
And that scared me more than anything.
Because I knew better.
Places like this…
Feelings like this…
They don’t last.
“You should rest more,” Rosa said gently. “Your body needs it.”
I nodded.
“I will.”
But even as I said it, my mind was somewhere else.
This house.
This life.
This man.
None of it felt like something I could keep.
And deep down…
I wasn’t sure I wanted to get used to it.
Because getting used to something like this…
Meant having something to lose.
And I had already lost enough.
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