Chapter 18
**LIAM’S POV p>
The doctor stood before me, a stoic expression etched upon his face, as he reached into his pocket with a deliberate slowness. My heart raced, each moment stretching into eternity until he finally withdrew a small evidence bag, handing it to me with a measured gravity. Inside, a tiny, empty vial lay nestled like a sinister secret, sending a chill coursing through my veins.
“This was in her pocket,” he disclosed, his voice dipping to a hushed professional tone, as if the very words might shatter the fragile air around us. “It’s a specialized anticoagulant-designed to prevent blood from clotting. The cuts on her wrists were actually quite shallow. Without this, they would have ceased bleeding on their own within mere minutes p>
I could only stare at the vial, my mind a tumult of confusion and disbelief, turning the small object over in my trembling hands. The implications of his words hung heavily between us, an executioner’s blade poised to drop.
“What are you saying?” I finally managed to utter, my voice barely more than a whisper, laden with dread.
The doctor sighed deeply, adjusting his glasses with a practiced motion. “The cuts were superficial, Mr. White. With this anticoagulant, she ensured they would bleed profusely without causing any significant harm. It’s… concerning p>
My entire world tilted dangerously. Was he insinuating that Sophia had orchestrated this? That she had somehow manipulated me into rushing to her side, playing the victim to elicit my sympathy?
“There must be some mistake,” I protested, shaking my head vigorously, as if I could physically dispel the notion. “You don’t know her. She’s fragile; she’s been through so much p>
“I’m merely presenting medical facts, Mr. White,” he replied, his tone unyielding. “Her vital signs are stable, and she will make a full recovery. Physically, at least.” He cast me a significant glance before turning on his heel and walking away, leaving me reeling.
I slumped into a chair outside Sophia’s room, the evidence bag hanging limply from my fingers. Could it be true? Had I been played like a pawn in some twisted game? My mind raced back to the look on Aria’s face when she saw me at the restaurant— the hurt and betrayal etched in her features like a haunting reminder.
A soft whimper from Sophia’s room jolted me from my spiraling thoughts. I hastily shoved the vial into my pocket and pushed the door open.
Inside, Sophia lay in the hospital bed, a fragile figure dwarfed by the stark white sheets that enveloped her.
The bandages on her wrists stood out starkly against her pale skin, reminders of the turmoil she had endured.
I stood frozen, my heart aching as I gazed at her. She looked so delicate, so vulnerable.
My chest tightened, a tumult of emotions swirling within me. Whatever she had done, whatever I had begun to suspect p>
She must have had her reasons.
I would wait for her. And when she awoke, I would ask her directly.
Drawing the chair closer, I settled in, the dawn light filtering through the narrow
hospital window, casting a soft, colorless glow around the room. I hadn’t slept much, and my back protested from the hard chair, but I remained rooted in place. Then, I noticed it-
Her fingers twitched beneath the blanket.
Moments later, her eyelids fluttered open, revealing a dazed confusion as she blinked slowly, trying to orient herself. When her gaze landed on me, she managed to whisper, “Liam p>
“Yes, it’s me,” I replied, my heart racing at the sound of her voice. “Of course I’m still here.” I sat beside her bed, battling the storm of emotions churning inside me.
“I’m so sorry,” she murmured, tears welling up in her eyes. “I was just… I couldn’t bear being the reason for your family’s anger. And seeing you with Aria tonight… you still love her, don’t you p>
I hesitated, the truth hanging heavy on my tongue. “Sophia, the doctor found something in your pocket. A vial of anticoagulant.” I pulled it out, holding it up as if it were a loaded gun. “Did you… plan this p>
Her eyes widened, genuine shock flooding her features. “What? No! Liam, that’s my medication for my blood disorder! Remember I told you about it? The doctor prescribed it months ago when I was having clotting issues during my treatment p>
A flicker of memory ignited in my mind, recalling our earlier conversations where she had mentioned her struggles with blood-related problems stemming from her depression medication.
“The doctor thinks you used it to make the cuts bleed more,” I said, my voice still laced with uncertainty.
Sophia’s expression crumpled, anguish etching deep lines across her face. “How could he say that? I always carry it with me in case of emergency!” Tears streamed down her cheeks, her pain palpable. “I can’t believe even the doctors think I’m lying. Just like everyone else p>
She turned away from me, her shoulders shaking with sobs. “Just go, Liam. Go back to Aria. Everyone’s right—I’ve ruined everything p>
Her despair felt so real, so raw. The doctor must have misunderstood. Perhaps he didn’t have her complete medical history.
“Sophia, I’m not going anywhere,” I said firmly, taking her hand in mine, willing her to feel my resolve. “I believe you p>
She turned back to me, her teary eyes glimmering with a flicker of hope. “You do p>
“Yes. But Sophia, I need to find Aria,” I said quietly, my heart heavy with the weight of my decision. “I need to fix what I broke p>
She looked at me, her eyes still glassy with unshed tears. “Do you want me to come with you p>
I shook my head gently. “No. You need to rest and recover p>
Outside the hospital, dawn broke over the city, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. I glanced at my watch-it read 7:15 AM. Too early to visit Aria, but I couldn’t wait any longer. I needed to see her, needed to explain everything. Little did I know, across town, a new storm was already brewing.
**ARIA’S POV p>
I awoke at seven-thirty, surprisingly refreshed despite the emotional turmoil of the previous night. Sunlight streamed through my curtains, momentarily washing away the shadows of the past.
Reaching for my phone, I noticed several notifications blinking at me. Lillian had sent a flurry of supportive messages, Dad had texted to check on my well-being, and then there was a message from an unknown number sent at 2 AM: “You’ll never win against me, Aria p>
I deleted it without a second thought, suspecting it was Sophia, using yet another burner number. I refused to let her get to me any longer.
Determined not to let yesterday’s events taint my day, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up. As I glanced at my phone again, I saw Lillian’s latest text:
“Meet me at Bloomingdale’s at 10. Operation Find-Perfect-Gift-For-Aiden’s- Grandma is ON. No arguments p>
A smile crept onto my face despite myself. Lillian clearly didn’t grasp the concept of my fake marriage, but I did need to buy a gift.
When I arrived at the department store, Lillian was already waiting, two steaming cups of coffee in hand. “Coffee first, then shopping!” she declared with an exuberant grin.
I smiled, genuinely appreciative of her bright spirit.
As we strolled through the upscale shopping district, she effortlessly looped her arm through mine, her energy infectious.
“You’re in a suspiciously good mood for someone who told off her ex last night,” Lillian remarked, glancing at me with a teasing glint in her eye.
“Did something happen with Mr. Dark-and-Dangerous Carter that I should know about p>
“Nothing happened,” I chuckled, feeling a warmth creep into my cheeks. “Aiden was just… supportive. In his own intimidating way p>
“Uh-huh,” Lillian smirked, clearly unconvinced. “Well, whatever ‘nothing’ happened, keep it up. You look more alive than you have in months p>
We stepped into a chic boutique specializing in vintage collectibles, the air thick with
the scent of polished wood and aged leather.
“Now, let’s find something that’ll make his grandma fall in love with you instantly,” Lillian said, peering eagerly into a display case.
“I was thinking something meaningful,” I suggested. “What about a diamond
necklace? Classic, timeless… Or… is that too ordinary p>
But almost immediately, I sensed an unsettling atmosphere.
Two saleswomen stood behind the counter, whispering behind perfectly manicured hands, their eyes darting toward us with barely concealed judgment. As we approached, the older of the two subtly stepped back, her demeanor shifting.
Then I spotted it—a stunning vintage brooch nestled among the velvet-lined display. “Excuse me,” I said to one of the saleswomen nearby. “Could I take a look at that piece p>
She glanced at me… then deliberately turned away, her disinterest palpable.
Lillian’s brows shot up in disbelief. “Hey! We’re customers. Is there an issue with service in this place p>
The woman muttered, just loud enough for us to hear, “We don’t serve bullies here p>
I blinked, taken aback. “Excuse me p>
Another customer nearby scoffed, her voice dripping with disdain. “Everyone’s seen the video. That poor girl, Sophia-already battling depression-and you still chose
to humiliate her like that p>
My mouth fell open in shock. “What are you talking about p>
“The video’s all over the internet, and you’re still pretending?” someone suggested coldly. “Your true colors are showing p>
I felt my heart race, confusion swirling within me. I couldn’t understand a word of
this.
“Call your manager over here! Now!” Lillian was ready to confront the entire store,
but I grabbed her arm, suddenly feeling nauseous. I pulled out my phone and opened Instagram, my heart pounding in my chest.
I froze.
It was all hate. Post after post, comment after comment about me.
What the hell is going on?