Mark studied Tom's face and noticed a heaviness in his demeanor, a look that betrayed secrets and inner turmoil. Suspecting that something was amiss, Mark decided not to press further. Instead, he placed a reassuring hand on Tom's shoulder.
"Take care of yourself, Tom. Don't beat yourself up too much. Focus on Anna and handle things the best you can," Mark said gently before walking away, leaving Tom to confront the weight of his emotions alone.
Tom hesitated outside Anna's room, his heart sinking as he finally stepped in. Seeing Anna lying unconscious, her face marred by fresh scars, and her breathing shallow, was more than he could bear. Guilt consumed him as he approached her. Slowly, he sat beside her, reaching out to gently touch her hand and caress her bruised face. His fingers trembled as he whispered softly, "I'm so sorry, Anna."
The overwhelming guilt and sorrow eventually wore him down. Still holding her hand tightly, Tom leaned his head against the bed and fell into a restless sleep, his dreams filled with images of Anna's lifeless form and his own haunting regrets.
When morning came, Tom stirred awake, his body stiff and his mind foggy. A sudden jolt shook him as Anna woke up with a panicked expression and violently pushed him away. "Who are you?!" she screamed, her voice shaky and laced with fear.
Tom's heart shattered at her words, but he quickly masked his emotions. His chest tightened as he fought back tears, refusing to let his despair show. "Anna…" he began, his voice faltering, "it's me, Tom." But her wide, frightened eyes showed no recognition.
In desperation to calm her, Tom blurted out a fabricated explanation, his voice steady despite the turmoil within. "Last night, I was drunk… I hit you. You were hurt, so I brought you here to the hospital."
Anna stared at him, confusion clouding her face. "I don't remember… anything," she murmured, clutching her head. Her voice dropped to a trembling whisper. "Who am I?"
Tom's chest constricted further. How could he tell her the truth? How could he confess his part in her pain? Struggling to steady his voice, he replied, "You work at my company. You live alone in a house nearby… You've always been independent. You don't have family. You're… an orphan."
The words stung him as he said them, each lie a new wound to his own conscience. He watched as Anna processed his explanation, her fragile state making her believe the falsehoods. Just then, a nurse entered to check her vitals, breaking the tension. Moments later, Anna drifted back to sleep, her exhaustion overpowering her confusion.
As soon as she was asleep, Tom stepped outside the room and leaned against the cold wall, his mind racing. He clenched his fists, hating himself for lying, yet knowing he had no choice. Picking up his phone, he called Mark. "I need you to arrange a house for Anna," Tom said, his voice firm but laced with despair.
Mark paused on the other end. "You sure about this, Tom?"
"Yes," Tom replied, his voice breaking slightly. "She needs a place to feel safe… I need to make things right."
As he hung up, Tom stared through the hospital window at Anna's fragile form. The guilt, the lies, and the weight of his feelings pressed down on him like an unbearable storm. But through it all, one thought remained clear: He would do whatever it took to help Anna heal, even if it meant erasing his own role in her life.
But just as he turned to leave, the nurse called out to him from the room. "Mr. Tom, I need to speak with you urgently about Anna's test results," she said, her expression tense and unreadable.
Tom froze in his tracks, his heart pounding. The look on the nurse's face wasn't just professional—it was laced with something deeper, something alarming.
"Is everything alright?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Please, step into my office," the nurse replied, her tone cryptic.
As Tom followed her down the corridor, an unshakable sense of dread began to creep over him. Something was wrong—something he hadn't anticipated. Whatever it was, it wasn't going to be easy.