Unstoppable Bride: Moving To His Enemy

1 Liara The doctor's office was cold, the air conditioning humming in the quiet room. My hands tighten to a fist to hide my fear, my face white due to the breath that I am holding. I stared at the doctor, who in turn faced me, his expression blank. "Doctor, it has been 3 years since he got the accident? Why isn't he walking?" I said softly, my voice breaking due to the constant stress working overnight. I hadn't slept for two weeks straight. The sleepless night trying to catch up to me, I am afraid to close my eyes for it not to drown me. "Miss Liara, Lucien condition is rare" his word is gentle “we had given him everything and his body isn't responding to treatment" my hand shaking at the thought. " I understand your worries but you just need to make him exercise the leg and take his medication" his reassuring words cloud my thoughts. I have heard the words repeatedly for years now, take his medication, eat well, exercise regularly and have enough sleep. Nothing is working. I tried to swallow the lump that formed on my throat. "We had the best doctors, specialists, surgeons over the world coming for a checkup but none can detect why he isn't healing". The doctor’s shoulders slumped. “I understand your frustration.I will come this weekend to see him when he gets back and check his vitals and for now, just pray and do what you are doing" He stood, signaling the end of our conversation, and moved to the door, speaking to a nurse waiting outside. Pray. I almost laughed, but the lump in my throat wouldn’t let me. Prayers had long since abandoned me. I rose slowly, my legs numb, my body heavy. My vision blurred, but I forced myself to hold my head high, shoulders squared. If I let the tears fall now, they might never stop. I married Lucien out of love, but that love was tested the day after our wedding. The accident stole him from me—left him trapped in a broken body. His family blamed me, called me a curse. I remembered that night vividly... “I don’t think you should go,” I had pleaded, my hands clutching his arm as the storm raged outside. “The rain... it’s dangerous.” But Lucien was relentless, his work ethic unyielding. He kissed my forehead, dismissing my fears as childish. Hours later, I saw his wrecked car on the news—crushed under a pole, twisted metal wrapped around his legs. Trapped. Helpless. If the paramedics hadn’t pulled him out before the explosion... I shivered, pushing the memory away. He was in coma for a year straight, which has been hell for him, his family refusing to let me stay at the mansion insisting that Lucien was put in that condition because of me while my family advised me to divorce him and move outside the country that his family was cursed. I refused to adhere to any of them. Our love journey started from where I was in high school. That night, my friends and I went to a club to drown ourselves after our final exam and I met Lucien. His domineering nature and cold face made me sweat. I was able to get the courage to speak with him when my friends dared me. His table was crowded with men on black and their board shoulders looking intimately, I didn't back out because first I was drunk, second, his face has that familiar aura and his eyes were f*****g brown with a chilsed face sculpture by the gods themselves. The night ended with me on his bed, driving away myself on his c**k. I stepped into the hospital corridor. Nurses rushed past, their faces tight with urgency. I moved quickly, keeping my hat low, eyes fixed on the floor. If the reporters saw me... I was almost at the exit when someone bumped into me, knocking my hat off. I bent swiftly to retrieve it, but a manicured hand got there first. “Miss Liara Lucien,” a sickly sweet voice drawled. My stomach twisted. I looked up, my gaze locking with mocking green eyes. Percy Jackson. A journalist who fed on scandal and misery like a vulture. I snatched the hat from her hand. “I don’t have time for your nonsense, Percy. Get out of my way.” She smiled, her red lips curling cruelly. “Is your dead husband still refusing to rise? Did you come here to find a miracle?” Her laughter was sharp, echoing down the hallway. My jaw tightened. “Lucien isn’t dead. You can drop the act.” Percy’s eyes gleamed, enjoying my misery. “Touchy, aren’t we? Be careful, Liara. It would be a shame if people knew the cursed wife was lurking around, hoping for her husband’s death.” My vision blurred with rage. My hands trembled, but I clenched them into fists. “You don’t know anything. Stop spreading lies.” “Oh, but it sells so well,” she purred. Then, she grabbed my arm, her nails digging into my skin. “Let’s give them a show, shall we?” "f**k you, I will make sure your company dies when Lucien gets well and you drowning in stupid debts" "Ha ha ha" Percy laughed, her laughter making my blood to boil. I wished I could strangle her right now to teach her a lesson. As if she knew what I was saying, she held my hand making me stagger towards her, I steady myself before I could fall. I yanked my arm back, but Percy stumbled, her heel twisting as she fell to the floor with a loud, dramatic scream. Heads turned, gasps filling the hallway. “Ahhh!” Percy wailed, clutching her ankle. Tears brimmed in her eyes, and she looked up at me with mock horror. “You... you pushed me!” I stood frozen, my body cold, heart thundering in my chest. Around me, whispers started, faces twisting with accusations. The reporters and media are already taking pictures, the halls filled with clicking sounds of the camera shutters and some even having the guts to film me. Liara Lucien... attacking a journalist? In public? I could already see tomorrow’s headlines.