ELENA'S POINT OF VIEW
The sterile scent of disinfectant filled the hospital hallway, a strange comfort amidst the chaos swirling in my mind. Each step toward my mother's room felt like I was trudging through quicksand. Alex's cold words echoed in my ears, but I forced myself to push them aside. My focus had to be on my mother; she was the one who truly mattered at that moment.
As I reached her room, I paused, catching snippets of conversation drifting through the closed door. A nurse was speaking softly, her voice soothing. Curiosity mingled with anxiety as I slipped inside to see them together. The nurse held a small paper cup filled with medication, her demeanor gentle and caring.
When she caught sight of me, her conversation came to a halt, replaced by a polite smile. "Make sure you take these right after your meal. Don't skip it again," she instructed, placing the cup on the bedside table.
"I won't," my mother replied, her smile tinged with fatigue. "Thank you."
With a nod, the nurse exited quietly, leaving behind an echoing silence. As the door clicked shut, my mother's gaze shifted to me. The warmth of her smile faded as she examined me, her eyes searching.
First my face, then my dress, and finally my shoes. The worry etched on her forehead deepened as she scrutinized me like a stranger.
"Lena," she said softly, beckoning me closer.
I swallowed hard, trying to conjure a smile that seemed to evade me. I approached her bedside, where her hand reached out, trembling yet firm as she took mine. Her eyes were clouded with concern, searching for something hidden.
"What is going on with you?" she asked, her tone gentle yet penetrating.
My heart raced. "What do you mean?"
Her brow lifted slightly. "You look different. This dress, your face, even the way you're standing. Something happened. You didn't leave this hospital looking like this."
I exhaled a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. The weight of her words pressed on my chest. "Mom, it's nothing. I just…"
"Where did you get the money for my surgery?" she interjected, her voice sharpened with concern. "And those bills? And this dress you're wearing? Lena, where did all this come from?"
The sudden onslaught of questions left me momentarily speechless, panic swirling in my stomach. I had known this moment would arrive, but I wasn't ready. I had no real story, no plan to ease her mind, just fear gnawing at me from within.
Her gaze softened upon sensing my distress. She reached up, brushing her fingers gently against my cheek. "My child, you can talk to me. Did something happen? Did someone force you into something?"
"No," I whispered urgently, shaking my head. "Nothing like that."
"Then please, tell me," she urged. "Because you didn't have this money yesterday. And now you look like someone from a different world."
My chest constricted. I yearned to confide in her, to share the truth about the contract, the cold man waiting just outside, the fear that had taken root in my heart. But I couldn't. She had fought so hard to survive the surgery. I wouldn't jeopardize her recovery with more stress. Telling her wouldn't fix anything.
I took a deep breath, shaping a lie in my mind, crafting it into something she might believe.
"Mom," I began, settling onto the edge of the bed. "I… I haven't been completely honest with you."
Her eyes widened. "About what?"
"I wasn't alone all this time," I said softly. "I've been in a relationship."
Her brow furrowed in confusion. "A relationship? With who?"
I turned my gaze downward, feigning shyness. "It's someone I've known for years. A friend."
"Since when?" she asked, bewildered. "You never mentioned anything"
"I know. I kept it to myself. He preferred it that way. He comes from a private family and thought it best to keep things low-key for now," I replied, crafting my story.
"But why didn't you tell me?" she pressed gently, her voice filled with concern.
I hesitated. "I didn't want to raise your hopes. What if it didn't work out? I couldn't bear to disappoint you."
She fell silent, her eyes penetrating as if she were trying to dissect my every word.
"So this man," she said slowly, "helped you pay for everything?"
I nodded, relieved that the lie seemed to hold weight. "When he returned, I finally confided in him about our situation. He insisted on helping. I didn't want to at first, but I couldn't manage it alone anymore."
She sighed, leaning back against the pillows. "Why return now? After all this time?"
"He wasn't aware of our struggles," I rushed to explain. "He was working abroad and only just came back. When we reconnected, he told me he didn't want to lose me. He proposed today."
Her eyes widened in disbelief. "Proposed? Today?"
I nodded slowly, a knot tightening in my stomach.
She glanced at me as if needing time to process my words. "So, he wants to marry you?"
"Yes."
"And you said yes?"
I forced a smile, though it felt shaky. "Yes."
My mother looked overwhelmed, but then she slowly placed her hand over mine. "Lena, why didn't you tell me you were in love?"
"I didn't want to give you false hope if things fell apart," I whispered, choking back emotions. "I didn't want to lead you into a dream that might vanish."
She shook her head slowly, concern etched on her features. "Who is this man? What's his name? When can I meet him?"
My heart raced, panic rising like a tide inside me.
"I'll talk to him," I said quickly, my mind racing. "We can arrange a visit soon." I hesitated for a moment before adding, "And I'll be moving in with him," noticing the frown on my mother's face as the words slipped out.
"I need to see him before you move into his house," she said, her voice steady and unyielding.
I swallowed hard, the weight of her gaze pressing down on me. "Of course. You will."
My mother studied me, her eyes searching for the truth beneath my facade. "Lena, I want you to be happy. I want you to marry someone who truly loves you. But, are you absolutely sure about this?"
No. Not even close.
But I nodded, forcing a soft lie from my lips. "Yes, I'm sure."
Her expression softened as she squeezed my hand, a gesture that filled my chest with conflicting emotions. "Good. I trust you."
Her words tightened the knot of guilt and fear in my heart. It was as though she could sense my uncertainty, the doubts I fought to keep hidden.
"Come here," she said, pulling me into an embrace.
I leaned in, wrapping my arms around her. Her warmth enveloped me, familiar and safe. I fought back tears, willing them not to spill just yet.
She kissed my forehead, her voice a gentle whisper. "You deserve happiness. I hope this man treats you right."
The words hung heavy in the air, and I struggled to find my voice. Did Alex even know how to treat anyone right? All I could do was murmur, "Thank you."
We chatted for a little while longer, small talk to fill the silence, as I adjusted her pillows and ensured her medication was within reach.
When it was time to leave, she grasped my hand again. "Make sure to tell your young man that I want to meet him soon."
My heart sank. "I will," I promised, but the words felt hollow.
As I kissed her goodbye, the urge to break down surged within me, but I fought it fiercely. I stepped out of the hospital, the cold air hitting me like a wave, threatening to pull me under.
The world outside felt normal, but my reality was crumbling around me.
Each step home felt heavier, an anchor pulling me deeper into an ocean of despair. When I finally reached my cramped room, I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, surrendering to the storm inside.
Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably.
I sank to the floor, cradling my head in my hands as sobs ripped through me. Everything felt surreal, as if my life belonged to someone else entirely.
I had lied to my mother, looked her in the eye, and spoken of love, of marriage, of a man who barely acknowledged my existence except to fulfill a contract.
My heart ached as I stifled the cries that seemed to echo louder in the silence. "What am I doing?" I whispered. "What have I gotten myself into?"
I cried until my breath was shallow and uneven, my hands trembling as I wiped my face. The ache in my head mirrored the hurt in my heart.
Then my phone rang, shattering the stillness.
I froze, dread coursing through me.
The screen illuminated with a name that made my stomach drop.
Alexander.
We'd exchanged numbers at the Reyes mansion.
I stared at the phone as it vibrated, uncertainty gripping me. I wasn't ready for him.
Not after everything, not after lying to my mother, not after pouring my heart out in tears.
My fingers trembled as I answered.
A frosty voice filled my ear. "I hope you've sorted everything out," he said. "I told you what to arrange. I'll be there to pick you up soon."
My lips parted, but words failed me.
I was paralyzed.
I couldn't breathe.