ELENA'S POINT OF VIEW
"I hope you've sorted everything out. I told you what to arrange. I'll be there to pick you up soon."
My mouth opened, yet no words emerged. I was lost, my thoughts swirling around my mother, the lie I had spun, and the gnawing twist of anxiety in my stomach. The silence stretched out too long.
His voice broke through sharply. "Are you listening to me? If you can hear me, respond."
The edge in his tone felt like a slap across my face.
"I'm here," I murmured, my heart racing. "I heard you."
"Good," he replied with a steely bite. "I'll grab you from where I left you."
"Okay," I whispered, but the call had already ended.
Lowering my phone, I found myself staring into nothingness. My breath trembled. The weight of my deception hung heavy in my mind. I had told my mother I was engaged to a man I loved. A man who loved me back.
But Alex didn't love me. He scarcely tolerated my presence.
Yet she believed every word. And if she uncovered the truth…
I swallowed hard, wiping away the new tears gathering at the corners of my eyes with the back of my hand. Maybe… just maybe, I could plead with him. Just for today. Just to put on a show for her. To say the words I had woven into my lie. Nothing more.
He didn't owe me that. But it was worth a shot.
I snatched my ID from the table and slipped it into my already packed bag. Taking a shaky breath, I stepped out of the apartment and headed back to the hospital.
When I returned to the hospital, I positioned myself near the main entrance, scanning every passing vehicle, anxious for his arrival.
As a sleek black car rolled up to the steps, the driver rushed to open the door. But Alex, ever unyielding, pushed the door open himself and stepped out.
Our eyes locked instantly.
No smile. No greeting. Just an icy impatience that sent a shiver down my spine.
"Get in," he commanded, his voice calm yet laced with an undercurrent of irritation.
I swallowed hard and took a step forward, but my legs seemed glued to the ground. I stopped right in front of him.
"I need to talk to you first," I whispered, my voice wavering.
He arched an eyebrow, amusement flickering briefly in his eyes. "I don't have time for unnecessary conversations."
"I know," I whispered back. "But this is important."
He crossed his arms, an imposing figure that towered even more in that moment. His gaze swept over my face, as if I were just another stranger, an annoyance to be dealt with.
"Talk," he said, the command forcing my breath to hitch.
Every nerve in me trembled, but I pressed on.
"I told my mother something," I began, my voice shaking. "I need your help with it."
His expression didn't shift, remaining as cold and detached as ever. I could feel my heart pounding louder.
"I told her we've been in a relationship for a long time. That you proposed when you came back. I said we kept it private because your life is complicated."
His face remained an unreadable mask, but I could sense the tension building.
"She wants to meet you," I managed to finish, my voice barely a whisper.
He stared at me, incredulous, before letting out a short, humorless laugh. It felt like salt on an open wound. "You must be joking."
"I'm not," I said, desperation clawing at my throat.
He stepped closer, invading my space. "And you want me to pretend for your mother because you couldn't keep your mouth shut?"
I shook my head fiercely. "I didn't mean to. I was scared. She was asking so many questions. I couldn't tell her about the contract. She just had surgery, and I didn't want her to panic."
For a long moment, he scrutinized me, his gaze as sharp as ice.
"Do I look like someone who plays pretend with strangers?" he asked quietly.
I felt my chest tighten painfully. Before I knew it, I had dropped to my knees, my heart racing in fear.
People walked by, throwing curious glances our way, but I didn't care. I grasped his hand tightly, as if it were my last lifeline.
"Please," I begged, my voice trembling. "I can't let her worry. She's just come out of surgery. If she finds out the truth, it will break her. I'm begging you. Help me just this once."
Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. Bowing my head, I held onto him desperately. My voice cracked and choked.
"Please. I would do anything. Just pretend for a little while. Just for her. She has no one else but me."
Alex stood rigid, his hand remaining still in mine. I couldn't see his expression, but I felt his piercing gaze boring into me.
He inhaled slowly, then exhaled.
"Get up," he ordered.
I shook my head, refusing to budge. "Not until you agree."
"Elena," he said, his voice quiet but laced with authority, "get up."
Looking up at him through my tears, I searched his eyes for compassion. They were inscrutable, yet behind that stoic façade, I glimpsed irritation, perhaps frustration, and something softer, fleeting.
"Fine," he finally relented. "I will do it."
Relief crashed over me like a tidal wave, nearly knocking me off my feet.
"Thank you," I whispered, my voice raw with emotion.
"Don't thank me," he replied, though his tone was devoid of warmth. "I'm only doing this to stop you from crying in public. And because I don't want your mother collapsing again. It'll delay everything."
I nodded swiftly, even though his words stung more than I cared to admit.
"Now," he said, his tone shifting abruptly, "what do you need from me?"
I laid everything bare before him. Every lie, every detail, every sentence I'd uttered, lay out like a fragile tapestry unraveling at the edges.
His gaze was steady, unwavering, as if he were deciphering a puzzle.
"This is absurd," he said finally. "But fine, I'll work with it."
Turning toward the hospital entrance, his determination was palpable.
"Where is her ward?" he asked, the urgency in his voice propelling us forward.
As we made our way down the dimly lit hallway, the hum of whispered conversations danced around us. Nurses exchanged glances, some with wide eyes, their curiosity piqued by Alex's commanding presence. Yet, he remained impervious to their scrutiny.
When we arrived at my mother's room, I hesitated, my hand hovering over the doorknob.
"Are you ready?" I whispered, anxiety tightening my chest.
He rolled his eyes, impatience flickering across his features. "Just open the door."
With a deep breath, I pushed it open slowly.
My mother's eyes fluttered open at once, her gaze softening when she recognized me. But then, curiosity shifted to surprise as she spotted Alex behind me.
"Oh, Elena," she exclaimed, propping herself up a little. "You didn't mention someone was with you."
Before I could respond, Alex stepped inside, his whole demeanor transforming. The tension in his posture eased as he flashed a small smile, a smile that, while feigned, managed to fill the room with warmth.
My heart raced. What kind of man could appear so captivating even when wearing a mask?
"Good afternoon," he said, leaning slightly forward in a respectful bow. "I am Alexander Reyes."
Instantly, my mother's face lit up as if the rain clouds had parted. "So, you're the young man I've heard about," she said, her voice tinged with happiness.
"Only good things, I hope," he replied with a charm that could disarm anyone.
She chuckled softly. The weariness that had painted her features began to dissolve.
"How are you feeling?" Alex inquired, stepping closer, his concern genuine.
"I'm better," she said, her eyes reflecting newfound hope. "Thanks to you. My daughter has told me everything you've done for us."
Alex's grin remained intact as he responded, "Anything for her is no trouble at all."
My heart fluttered again. Why did those simple words, laced with depth, resonate so strongly within me?
My mother placed her hand over her heart, a gesture of relief. "You don't know how grateful I am. My daughter has endured so much."
For a fleeting moment, Alex met my gaze, and a flicker of something unreadable danced in his eyes before he looked away.
"I'll arrange a better apartment for you and a nurse to care for you," he said, his tone brokering confidence. "Elena will be moving in with me."
A flicker of concern crossed my mother's face as her eyes widened slightly. "Oh. Moving in," she replied, choosing her words cautiously.
"She'll be safe," he assured her firmly. "And I will let you know when it's time for the engagement."
My mother blinked as his words settled deep. A smile returned to her lips, but I could sense the undercurrent of worry that lingered.
"I trust you," she said softly. "Please take care of her."
"I will," Alex promised, his voice steady.
We lingered for a few more moments. My mother launched into a series of questions. What he did, where he lived, and how long we had known each other. He answered effortlessly, each response polished and rehearsed.
Finally, he stood, straightening up. "I'll take my leave now."
I wrapped my arms around my mother tightly, holding on like a lifeline. "I'll walk him out."
The moment the door clicked shut behind us, the air shifted. The warmth of Alex's smile evaporated, replaced by the familiar chill of his cold demeanor.
"We're done here," he said, dismissing me with an air of finality. "Finish whatever you need to do. I'll pick you up soon. Don't waste my time."
I felt myself shrink under his gaze, my heart heavy. "Thank you," I murmured.
He didn't reply.
As he strode away, his footsteps echoing through the hallway, I lingered, paralyzed, until he vanished around the corner.
Once alone, the weight in my chest intensified, tightening like a vice. I pressed my hand over my mouth, fighting the tears that threatened to spill.
I returned slowly to my mother's room, but the door felt like an anchor dragging me down. Everything felt heavy, my heart, my breath, my future.
And for the first time since the contract was signed, a realization washed over me with startling clarity.
I was truly trapped.