After opening her eyes, as she slowly drifted out of the semi-dark world of unconsciousness, Sofia wasn't sure of what she expected to see exactly. She was pretty certain though that it was definitely not what was now before her—sitting by her bedside on a chair, head lolled to one odd angle on the backrest, looking like a vulnerable damsel instead of an arrogant, know-it-all lawyer Max Wilder. Also, his mouth was a little gaped, and Sofia was suspicious if there was any drool crawling down the other side of his face that she could not see.
And there was only one thing running through Sofia's mind as she tried fighting off the blurriness from her eyes, that was if this was how Max looked while asleep, then he should sleep all the time. That way, the world could be saved from his insane outbursts and eleventh-hour cruelties.
Sighing, Sofia looked away, only to notice that she was in a white room, her ankle felt heavy, and her midriff was a little raised by a pillow under her back.
She was brought into a bloody hospital!
Irritation filled her to the extreme. She was so going to kill someone if the hospital bill came out any outrageous. And to not make the hospital bill any more outrageous than it perhaps already was, she began quickly sitting up with the means of escaping this place. But her hasty movements only made pain shoot through different parts of her body.
Groaning aloud and cursing mentally, she dropped back down.
Instantly, Max jumped up straight from the chair.
Startled, Sofia jerked in surprise. "Goodness!" she muttered under her breath.
Max was looking wide-eyed at her, moving his eyes up and down her whole form, pausing momentarily on her leg and ribs.
Instinctively, feeling quite nervous, Sofia yanked the light white sheet over her stomach, dragging it up to her chin.
She glared at him. Or tried to. Despite feeling too tired to deliver a glare that sprayed life-melting lava out of it, she was keen on at least making a hell of an attempt to do just that because the man didn't look vulnerable anymore now that he was awake.
Sofia narrowed her eyes and observed that he looked instead—worried, exhausted, and angry, all at the same time. The reason, of course, was not very hard for her to guess. It was certain that he was stressed out at the prospect of him getting the seal of a woman beater from society. He had said so himself. Had he not?
Also, she noticed he had a bruise on his right cheek, which had been out of her sight until now, hidden while he slept.
Where had he gotten that from? Did she even want to ask and get her head bitten off for it?
Once again, Sofia tried to lift herself to a sitting position.
"Do not even try to move," was Max's immediate, loud, clear command.
Needless to say, Sofia disobeyed, especially with the purpose of going against his words, slapping away Max's hands that tried to hold her. But then, her ribs instantly caught on fire. Furthermore, she realized that her ankle was tightly strapped when she caught a glimpse of the poor limb elevated by a pillow.
Sadly, she had no other option other than to accept defeat, and so she did, collapsing back into the pillow with a giant huff of pain and frustration.
"Why the hell have you brought me to a damn hospital?" she barked at a grim-looking Max. His face went unreadable at her question.
"Maybe because you fainted and refused to wake up," was his tight reply.
"You could have sprinkled some water on my face."
"I did," Max nodded. "Nearly emptied a bucketful."
"How dare you? I'm not a bloody plant!" Sofia only said that because she couldn't immediately think of anything else to retort back with.
At this stage of this utterly weird argument, Sofia knew wholeheartedly that Max was so going to burst out of his skin and start screaming in her face. But yet again, she was met with a surprise.
Max's lips twitched.
Was he suppressing a smile?
How dare he laugh at her!
Sofia felt highly irked.
"You're spinning around the wrong topic, Sofia. I think you should instead ask why your ankle is strapped up and has a pillow underneath it." Max paused for a short second to breathe. "Oh, and add to it why you still can't get up. Your ribs must be feeling like they are about to snap in half, huh?"
Now, hearing all that, Sofia couldn't help but feel curious. And she made the mistake of following Max's lead.
"Ah," She cleared her throat. "Why—"
No sooner had that only word left her mouth, she had to flinch as the screaming session finally began.
Bloody bipolar.
"BECAUSE you never got any treatment, any medicine for your wounds from that day. There is a slight bruising on your rib bone which could have been utterly dangerous if you went on like that for a couple freaking more days. Also, your ankle is so swollen and blue it's completely unimaginable, Sofia," he paused to suck in a harsh breath, eyes turning red shot in a matter of a moment. "I can't believe you were walking around in this condition all this time!"
Sofia was rendered speechless for some time, but that was until Max dragged a hand down his face, and their eye contact got interrupted. That was all she needed to gather herself.
How dare he!
"My injuries are my own business," she said in such a way that left no scope to oppose her words. At least, that was what she thought.
Max looked at her then in an illegible way as though—somehow, he had obtained that scope to oppose her. As though he'd found a way to make this impossible possible.
But she would be damned if she gave him a chance to say the last word in this war.
"Just like your own injury is your business only," she stated, looking meaningfully at his bruised cheek. "I haven't asked about that, have I?"
When he opened his mouth, she quickly looked away and closed her eyes, dismissing the impossible man. "I do not wish to argue anymore, so please, do me a favor and keep your mouth shut."
She thought that he would leave her alone and storm out of the room, angry, for his ego was battered at the hands of a mere, poor girl lying on the hospital bed. She waited for what she'd inwardly predicted, believing she had come to know him too well. But it was only sickening silence that followed for the next ten minutes or so, and no sign of any sound that would announce his departure, just his rapid breathing followed by a long sigh.
"I'm sorry."
What!
Had she heard right?
Sofia couldn't move, couldn't open her eyes, and she definitely couldn't breathe.
She heard the shrill noise of a chair scraping against the floor, and she heard drifting footsteps. Only when the sound of a door lightly closing came to her ear did Sofia snap open her eyes and stare wide-eyed at the ceiling.
Unbelievable!
Max Wilder had just apologized to her.
--
It was an absolute blow into the guts that Max experienced the moment Sofia fell unconscious in his arms.
"S... Sofia!" Max panicked. He patted her cheeks, holding her slack form around the waist. "Sofia! Damn it. Wake up! Open your eyes! Sofia..."
But she still didn't get up, never opened those eyes that had never failed to intrigue him, hold him captive many, many years ago. And till this day, he often found himself quite puzzled and drawn and amused, and so many other things and all at once whenever those eyes looked at him with wonder, or with a question, or fury.
There were also those times when they had looked at him with sadness, disappointment, and resignation.
But the moment which haunted him still was the moment when her eyes had absolutely nothing in them. That was the day they got married. He'd locked it away in fear it would provoke empathy, emotions that could weaken him.
It was utterly terrifying now that those very eyes were closed, with not even a single flutter of life behind them.
Max lifted her body in his arms, her jelly-like limbs dangling. He laid her down on the bed, noticing with a frown how she weighed so feather-like. And he noticed further how her cheeks were slackened and her eyes had shadows underneath. She looked almost like a skeleton wrapped in pale skin.
He went back to patting her cheek, which lolled to the other side. His eyes widened in fear, and his heart dropped to the floor. Feeling quite faint himself, he brought a shaking hand under her nose with tiny droplets of perspiration appearing on his forehead. He breathed only when her breath tickled his fingers. In a rush of relief, he dropped his hand on the mattress beside her face.
"Sofia," Max pleaded. "What has happened to you?"
He sprinkled almost a jug full of water on her face and tried providing some warmth to her cold-going palms by rubbing them between his hands, and when he moved down to her feet, he finally saw it. Peeking out from her pants was an awfully swelled ring of bruise around her ankle.
Max froze for a moment, for a long, silent moment, before he growled.
He recalled her words from yesterday night. Other injuries, she had said.
It was evident that he was now staring at one of those other injuries, and God knew how many were still waiting to be discovered.
Before he could lose his mind in panic and fury, he held up his phone to call the family doctor but then thought against it. He thought it would be better to haul this exasperating woman to the hospital, where there were all kinds of facilities, machines, and doctors available to check out these damned bruises on her body—all of which had clearly worsened with time and ignorance.
Therefore, a minute later, Max ran down the stairs and out of the house to his car with Sofia in his arms. The watchman, Bean, held the car door open, and Max strapped an unconscious Sofia to the passenger seat. He was about to go round the car and get behind the wheels when an unexpected obstacle appeared.
Neil.
His cousin appeared out of nowhere, looking shocked and worried. "What's going on, Max?" Neil demanded. "What happened to Sofia?"
Max scowled at Neil.
Couldn't the moron see that it was no time to talk?
"Sofia fainted, and I'm taking her to the hospital," Max explained with urgency. "Now move out of my way."
But Neil didn't. "What did you do to her?"
Max's scowl deepened at Neil's furious tone. Grunting, he tried walking past the idiotic ass but that dratted cousin of his blocked his way again.
"Damn it, Neil," Max bellowed. "Can't you see that it is no time to argue! Let's take her to the bloody hospital first."
It looked like Neil finally got the situation. However, at the same time, it was clear that he wasn't letting this go.
Neil tightly nodded and ran to his own car, screaming. "I'm driving after you."
Max didn't bother saying anything back. He just got inside his car and stormed out of the driveway, missing running over Bean by an inch.
In the hospital, it was only when Sofia was taken in for X-rays and scans that Max slumped into a seat in the waiting area. Pressing his throbbing temples, he closed his eyes for a moment.
What might have happened that she fainted like that? Was it something serious? An illness? Or was it the bruises?
Bloody crap, he should have shoved those painkillers down her throat that night instead of backing off.
"Would you now care to tell me what you did to Sofia?" Neil demanded furiously. "I'm not going to be kept in the dark anymore about the reason for her injuries—those bruises around her neck, the limping foot, and now this—" He pointed wildly towards the intimidating steel doors at the other side of which she was. "You will bloody explain them to me right now."
Neil's infuriated voice made Max snap open his eyes. For a moment, he had forgotten that his ever-meddling cousin had been shadowing his every move, interrupting at every possible chance since they arrived at the hospital.
And now, Neil was glaring down at him.
Sofia had got quite a determined protector.
"Are you out of your mind, Neil?" Max sneered. "How can you still hold onto the appalling notion that I'm responsible for her injuries? Didn't I already make it clear that day in the office that I'm not the cause of them or what has happened to her now?"
Neil's breathing was fast-paced like he was having a hard time containing the amount of anger he felt. "I find it very fitting to believe that it is not that impossible after the many ways you have been tormenting her since your return."
Aggravated, Max shot up to his feet. "Do not add all that to what happened today."
"I damn will," Neil matched his tone. "Because you have been wrong all those times, and you are wrong even now. She didn't deserve the hell you've brought upon her. She didn't deserve how she was treated today, how she was denied to see her grandfather. She was humiliated because of the wrongs you've done, and I'm ashamed because apparently, my mother was in the front row too. This is the reason I rushed to your place to check on Sofia right after I got to know what had transpired." Neil paused to breathe. His nostrils flared in agitation while Max stood mum. "Bloody hell! Sofia did not deserve what she got after all she'd done for her family. She bloody saved the roof above their heads so they didn't have to live in the streets and, in return, consented to your father's proposal of getting married to you."
Blood rushed into Max's ears.
...in return, consented to your father's proposal of getting married to you.
...Saved the roof above their heads.
"For a debt that her parents took years ago for her brother's cancer treatment, Sofia certainly had to pay a hell lot more back," Neil snorted in contempt. "Maybe her only fault is that she protected her family at any cost."
Was this 'the pity from the Wilders Sofia was talking about? Shit!
Max stumbled back a step. He could not believe his ears.
All this time, all that he had done, all that he had put her through to punish her for her vile intentions, that every moment whirled in his mind endlessly and came to a standstill at this very moment in the present.
This had been her intention all along?
And Max found that the only person with a vile mindset was himself.
Quite cruelly, Max's mind flashed him the day of their wedding. Sofia's eyes had absolutely nothing in them as they stared into nothing in particular while signing those papers. If those eyes had haunted him till then, they made his soul bleed now, after knowing what he had reduced her into and for what.
Sofia's friends bullied him in school ten years ago, her rejecting him at prom night, her shunning his friendship which started even before that night—all of that really seemed nothing compared to what he had done to her now. If Sofia had been the villain ten years ago, then he was simply an idiotic monster in the present.
How could he not have seen the truth all along or tried to investigate it at least? He had just kept on being a fool doing all this madness.
Now he began to question his whole perspective about Sofia that he had built up and cherished with a vengeance over the years. It was a shattering hit at the base of his faith. It made him doubt everything he had known forever.
For there could be a world hidden behind a world. Just as how it had been recently.
Like a herd of worms, doubts about established truths ate at his brain cells.
"No," Max mumbled in disbelief and contempt entirely directed towards himself. "I cannot believe—"
It looked as though Neil mistook his words and thought that he didn't believe him, for something flashed behind Neil's eyes, and the next thing Max knew was the square punch in his face.
Max's face snapped to the side as Neil glowered at his older cousin and stormed to the other side of the waiting room.
Well, he deserved that. Didn't he?
Traumatized, Max fell back into the seat and clutched his hair.
What had he done?
Max didn't know how minutes became an hour. The doctor came out to let them know the reasons why Sofia fainted like that. And what Max was informed of by the doctor didn't help him at all. It made him want to go and drown himself in the little lake in front of the hospital. But, alas, that would not change a thing, and he would still be his bastard self who wronged a person to such an unbelievable extent and ended up fabricating a blunder so huge.
To make matters worse, Robert Wilder stormed down the waiting area, looking utterly dangerous. Neil rushed forward to greet him, and by the hurried words they exchanged, Max got to know that his father had come here straight from the airport after getting a phone call from Neil right after his flight landed.
If Max wasn't already aware of how much of a foolish bastard he had made himself into, he was now made known.
"I truly believed my scheme would have helped save the Haydens' house while at the same time reigniting those bloody sparks I've always seen between you and Sofia," Robert Wilder thundered.
Of course, his father had noticed. One cannot really hide a fire. And Robert Wilder was not daft. Unyielding, yes, crafty, that too, but not daft.
"Had I known it would lead to this heinous outcome, I would have never even let thoughts of any betrothal cross my mind?" His look of disappointment made Max flinch. "I don't know who I'm more ashamed of, you or myself."
Robert looked away from a frozen Max, who moved his pained stare down to his feet.
It made Max feel worse that his father didn't say another word to him, he just went to stand beside Neil, and they talked in hushed voices.
Soon after Sofia was wheeled out and back into the ER, the three men closely followed. The doctor approached them after evaluating all the test results. They were informed that Sofia would probably not wake up the whole night, considering the drugs that were put into her system to make her sleep. It was rest she needed the most.
"She's in trauma and probably hasn't been sleeping much lately. A counselor would be sent to her after she wakes up," was what the doctor said after Max told him about how she acquired her injuries.
Max was lost, and it went entirely unnoticed by him how the other two livid males of his family reacted at the revelation of the Mevil incident or when the doctor told his father and cousin to come back tomorrow during the visiting hours for only one attendant was allowed to stay the night. And because Max had put his name hurriedly into the guardian section as the husband, he was apparently going to be the one.
Walking through long halls and corridors next, stepping into the elevator, people walking past--all were distant, blurry to him, as though elements from a far-off dimension. All the while, he was lightly touching the bars at the side of the bed she was on, cold under his skin, but that was until she was whisked away too fast and out of his sight 'cause he found himself in a standstill, long lines of wooden doors at his both sides each holding different forms of misery behind them.
He was unaware of the threats delivered to him by Neil.
He didn't even know the exact moment Neil and Robert left.
The only thing Max knew was that he pushed open the door and walked into a room where lying was the girl whose life he had ruined.
~
A/N:
Phew! Many new lines are added in this chapter. Some dialogues are made better.
This is a thunderbolt chapter, I must say. So, did you like it? Lemme know.
Personally, I love high-voltage drama! haa haa...
Sofia is perplexed, and this is just the beginning. ;) The truth is out there, but there is still so much left to be revealed. In due time we will grab them by the neck.
Pls don't forget to Vote, Comment, Fan/follow! Share the story!
Thanks to all of you lovely people who've been voting and commenting and supporting this story. You guys really make my days beautiful.
evaviego, orion623, jrogul, ArunaJoshua, funhouse5097, Jia213, SageHope, wildflower_1779, CarpeDiem_365, VrindaTewary, MayaTrivedi, mayflower1993... love you so much, guys!
So, take care,
I Will be back soon with the next chap.
By the way, do you remember Sofia's nightmares? Hold onto it, I plan to add a couple of scenes here regarding this in the upcoming chapters where I see fit (brand new, short or long). In the past version, it felt like I didn't do complete justice to that track, there were just so many possibilities. But no worries, that's what rewriting is for--to fix, to change, to add, to cut off... it's about making things better.
Suggestions are welcome.
Lemme know of the mistakes you find.
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Lots of love,
Lara.
P.S. I love this chapter's cover. It's gonna be one of my favs forever. Its color makes me happy. :)