Chapter 7
1424 Words
“Ughhh.” Rose’s head hurt so much, she would have thought she was hungover from too much alcohol if she didn’t have a massive life crisis going on.
“Damn it.” This time her groan was louder, and her stomach rumbled.
With squinted eyes and scrunched lips, she rushed out of bed and rattled the knob of a closeby door.
Glad that the door led to a bathroom, she dramatically slid towards the water closet and released the vomit that had been threatening to ruin her throat.
“Ugh. God,” she groaned harder when she peeked at the vomit.
It was a result of inadequate feeding over the past few days. Once she threw everything up, her stomach became very empty, and it ached to be fed.
But all the throwing up made her weak, she only managed to crawl to the bedroom.
Once at the feet of the bed, she lay down and stared at the bluish ceiling.
Then, the tears came back.
Silently, they streamed down her face and blurred her sight so much that she did not notice when someone entered the room and stared down at her.
“What are you doing?” Unmistakably, that was the stranger speaking.
She wiped her tears as though that would stop them and paid attention to the man peering at her with his mystical eyes.
“What does it look like?” Her voice was still feeble. Rose hated that because it reminded her of how Richard broke her.
“I doubt crying is a pastime hobby for you.” He exhaled and moved to the edge of the bed. Once seated, he briefly closed his eyes and said, “You are a mess, Rose.”
Annoyed by his art of stating the obvious, she retorted, “How on earth do you know my name? Are you a stalker? Who exactly are you?”
“Are you always so rash, Rose?” His calmness humbled her outburst. “That is disappointing.” He looked away from her. “Listen, you need to rest more. Let us talk later.”
“No.” She sat up fast. “I should leave. Thank you for your help so far.”
“Leave?” He was more amused than annoyed. “In this deplorable state? Where do you intend to go? Do you have a life somewhere else? Huh? Tell me, Rose?”
Despite the softness in his voice, his words insulted her.
With gritted teeth, fury settled in her eyes while bitterness bloated her throat.
“That is… That is none of your business. I will sort out my life as I please.” She stood up after gaining a little strength. “You are a stranger. Nothing else. I appreciate your help, but you don’t get to use that as an opportunity to control me.”
“Control?” He got up as well. For the first time since he stepped into the room, he showed an emotion different from calmness. “You think I am trying to control you?”
She nodded while struggling to tear her eyes off his lips. “What else is it?” Rose argued. “For what other reason would a man who I barely know help me? Listen , just get out of the way. I need to leave.”
“You are very foolish, Rose.”
“What?” She frowned. “Why would you insult me?”
“You insulted me first,” he returned.
Rose noticed that despite his hurled words, he was not displaying visible anger.
That was weird.
“How did I do that?” she asked.
“You mocked my intentions. Controlling you? What use do I have for that? I am here because you are the one I am meant to love, nothing else.”
“Huh?” Her frown deepened. “What the heck is that supposed to mean? Love?” That word annoyed her. “Love me? Are you high?”
“Haven’t you felt something since we met?”
‘Oh,’ Rose inwardly exclaimed. She could not say that she didn’t feel something.
She felt a lot that could not be explained. And she was still feeling it.
“When we kissed,” he stepped closer, his scent tickling her nose to its delight, “did you feel nothing, Rose?”
“Huh…” She still could not look him in the eyes.
He would be able to tell what was on her mind because her eyes could never tell a lie.
“Tell me, Rose. Tell me you didn’t feel a thing, and I will let you leave right now.” The man’s eyes narrowed with slight agony as if saying it would be hard for him to watch her leave that place.
But Rose was determined not to fall for another Richard scam.
Sure, with this man, she was feeling things that made her think she could be genuinely happy and at peace with him.
But what if all those were illusions?
What if she was trying to lie to herself by thinking that this man was some saviour that's supposed to heal her pain?
“I did not feel a thing,” she almost choked while saying that.
“What?” Disbelief filled his low voice.
“I did not feel a thing. Even when you kissed me.”
“Look at me when you’re speaking, Rose.”
She shook her head and forced her attention to a bedside drawer.
“I refuse to trust another man with my life.” She began moving backwards. “Once again, thank you for everything. I owe you a lot.”
She turned when she finally found the courage to.
“You clearly said you'd let me leave, so don't follow me.” Rose pinched her eyes close for a second to get rid of the hesitation she felt.
Once it was out of the way, she walked out, her bare feet feeling the chill in the air that she hadn't noticed before.
As she moved, she noticed that she was in an interesting house that combined modern and rustic architecture in a way that made her want to sit down and stare.
However, with no time to spare, she walked past the giant paintings in the large corridor and desperately searched for the front door.
But after moving from here to there for many minutes, she couldn't find the exit.
She was almost screaming in frustration when someone appeared before her.
His hair, black and shiny, resting on his shoulders, this casually dressed man had a physique slightly smaller than that stranger's. Yet, it was impressive.
And for a brief second, she acknowledged he looked good in sweatpants.
“Who are you?” he demanded with a surprisingly soft tone while lifting a tray from the table close to him. “Wait.” His eyes became rabid. “Are you a thief? How on earth did you enter this place?”
Rose found it weird that he was not looking at her.
But the questions were clearly directed at her, she waved frantically to refute his claims.
“Wh-what? No! Of course not. I-”
“Symon, down,” the man she had walked away from entered the scene, his hands pocketed, his eyes fixed on her.
“But-”
“Down.”
“I—” Rose tried to explain why she was still in the house.
He cut her short with an embrace.
She melted into his chest like she always belonged there.
The man that was called Symon gasped, and the tray in his hand fell.
But that was not the only reaction to the hug.
“I f*****g knew it!” a voice hollered from behind, and Rose shook, she almost fainted if not for the man hugging her. “You two have been meeting up, haven’t you? So much for a f*****g virgin wife! f**k you two!”
A loud shatter followed, and Rose screamed in fear of Richard’s anger.
If the man holding her hadn't immediately lifted her into his arms, she would have hid behind him.
Richard picked up a fragment of the vase he broke. “She is mine, you f*****g prick!” he screamed, his hand bleeding as he pressed the broken piece into his palm. “Rose is mine!”
With increased anger, his body lunged at them, his weapon directed at Rose while the thirst for someone’s blood raged in his eyes.
- Writer
