Chapter 45: Ugly Thoughts
1500 Words
Chapter 45: Ugly Thoughts.
I was on the fourth day of my period, already.
My IUD was perfectly fine.
Embarrassingly… the sharp pain was just a shedding of my uterus's lining—it had just been early pre-period cramps.
That day, Rhys’s personal doctor arrived barely fifteen minutes later.
The moment he started asking questions, my throat locked.
My lips parted, but nothing came out. I wished the ground would open up and swallow me.
Thankfully, Rhys noticed.
“Harper,” he said, his voice steady beside me, “just give us your diagnosis.”
My chest kept pounding.
I didn’t want to be judged for this.
This whole thing already felt wrong enough.
Forbidden.
Shit.
I'd been at the guesthouse for three days, cramping and having him there with me.
Rhys had refused to leave since then.
According to him, this was the time I needed him the most.
He'd taken a whole week off work for me, and the only reason he gave his secretary was impressively ridiculous.
“Enough with the candles, Rhys. I might puke" I told him as he was bringing out another box of large scented candles.
The room was already cozy enough and all this was thanks to him.
He deserved the credit for the aesthetic setup he'd pulled up in this room, the night I saw my period.
“Are you sure, Blaze?" He dropped it. Damn. His voice melted my spine.
A low hum of affirmation crawled up my throat. “Do you want more chocolates?" He asked, holding my hand in his.
I hated being such a baby. My periods were always making my days terrible with the muscle cramps, and bad contractions.
“No. I might get piles from that" A smile crawled to my lips even though I didn't want it. He placed his large, warm palm on my stomach.
“What else do you wan—"
“It's just my period. Not a terminal disease" I chuckled. He cared a lot that he'd barely spent an hour away from me, since my period started.
“There….” It was comforting to feel the lines of his palm on my stomach.
“How're you feeling right now?" His voice was silk coated in bronze.
"Well… not good. I'm cramping as hell, and it might take my life," I managed to chuckle through the mind-crushing ache.
Rhys’s palm was still moving slowly over my stomach when his hand suddenly paused.
“It's getting close, Blaze,” He murmured, and I blinked at him.
“What do you mean?” I asked, looking directly into his eyes.
His eyes lifted to mine, calm but knowing.
“It’s getting close.”
My chest tightened.
For a second, I didn’t say anything.
“Close to what?” I asked quietly, even though I already knew the answer.
Rhys leaned back slightly, his fingers still resting on my stomach.
“Three years,” he said with a drop in his tone.
The words landed softly in the room. “Since Valerie.”
I stared at him, tears gathering in my eyes.
“You remember?” I didn't want the silence to prolong in the room.
A faint line appeared between his brows as the question itself offended him.
“Of course I do.”
My throat suddenly felt dry, so I swallowed again.
He looked away for a second, rubbing the back of his neck before meeting my eyes again.
“I remember the date,” he continued quietly.
“I remember the hospital.”
“I remember you refusing to talk to anyone for a month.”
The room went silent. He was right.
Valerie's death had broken me totally, three years ago. It had ruined me.
I wouldn't let them fall.
In a week, I'd be marking the third year of her being dead. Away. Deep in the ground.
Rhys’s hand resumed its slow circles over my stomach.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
The air in the room felt heavier than the candles could soften.
Then, my phone rang.
The sharp sound cut through the silence like a blade.
I reached for it quickly, a part of me being grateful for the interruption.
Mrs Beaumont.
I hesitated for a millisecond, before I answered the phone call.
“Hello, ma'am”
“Good afternoon, Miss Stella. This is Mrs. Beaumont.”
My spine straightened a little. I didn't need the introduction, but I tried to warm my tone a little. “Oh… hello. I know it's you”
Rhys glanced at me, curiosity flickering in his eyes.
“We’ve reviewed the documents you sent,” The woman continued. “Everything seems to be in order so far.”
My fingers tightened around the phone.
“That’s… good to hear.”
“There are just a few formalities left,” Mrs. Beaumont said smoothly. “Once those are completed, we can proceed with the next step.”
I glanced at Rhys.
He was still sitting beside me, his hand resting lightly on my stomach, watching my face with quiet interest.
“I understand,” I responded carefully.
“We’ll need you to confirm a few details,” She continued. “Nothing complicated.”
“That’s fine.”
“We can finalize everything once you’re ready.”
My heart beat a little faster.
“Yes,” I replied softly. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Perfect. I’ll send the remaining requirements later in the day.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Beaumont.”
The line went dead.
I lowered the phone slowly, knowing Rhys was still watching me.
One of his brows lifted slightly as he bit down on his jaw. “Important call?”
I placed the phone beside me, trying to keep my voice neutral and like it didn't matter.
“Something like that.”
His eyes lingered on me a second longer, clearly unconvinced but he didn’t push. He remained calm.
Instead, his hand returned to its slow, comforting circles over my stomach.
And somehow that made my chest feel tighter, knowing I should at least have said something but I didn't.
Instead of saying it out loud, I said it within me.
I was starting a company… not just a company but a fashion brand. On a global scale.
It wasn't an easy job. I'd spent my last few days at the academy, handling and processing all the documents needed. I even went as far as meeting with a few people, all of whom were important in the fashion industry.
All I wanted was one thing—Power. Yes. Call it any name, but I wanted power so I could be the villain of my own story.
Tears gathered in my eyes.
Three years after her demise. But every memory of her had haunted me, every f*****g day of my life.
I was broken... because I knew I could never share what I shared with her, with someone else again.
No one realized how hard living was.
Not even Rhys was able to make me live… but just that phrase she'd whispered with her last breath.
“Live for me, Stella!"
It'd been my biggest motivation, no, biggest push.
I was going to keep it.
Rhys was just there— he was like a line I should have never crossed.
I was confused about him, tangled in every emotion towards him.
“Please… leave” I said, making sure my tone didn't break.
Rhys moved closer, whispering to me. “Are you okay, Blaze—”
“Please leave,” I whispered.
He didn’t move.
His eyes searched my face like he was trying to peel my thoughts open.
“No,” he said quietly. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
Something inside me cracked.
This was the problem! This was the damn problem!!
He cared too much.
Too damn much.
It made my chest ache in ways I didn’t understand.
And worse… It made temptation whisper ugly things in my ear.
“Use him”
The thought slithered through my mind like poison.
“Use his power"
"Use his influence”
“Use the way he looked at me like I was something fragile that he had to protect”
Maybe I was the problem.
Maybe I was the one who cared too much to actually do it.
Maybe I was the coward.
My nails dug into the bedsheet, ugly thoughts slithering through my head.
Would it make me dangerous?
Would using him make me dangerous?
My throat tightened
Would it make me evil?
I turned my face away from him.
“Get out.” The words came out sharper this time.
He didn’t move.
“Stella—”
“GET OUT!” I snapped, my voice breaking.
Silence fell. Heavy. Thick.
He stared at me for a long moment, concern flickered in his eyes. Pain too.
I knew, even though I hadn't looked.
And that made everything worse.
Why couldn't he stop caring?
Why?
- Writer
