The attention of everyone in the hospital room shifted towards the doorway as Olivia called out, "Alex!"
Upon entering, Alex's gaze swept across the room, settling on Clare and a few others who stood awkwardly. Clare felt the weight of his icy stare but couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes.
"Alex," Olivia interjected, her voice tinged with desperation, "are you still mad at me? Are you disappointed that I didn't stop Clare sooner? I wanted to intervene, I just didn't expect Clare to say those things to Emily."
Alex spared Olivia a glance, noting the tears streaking down her face and the patch on her forehead stained with faint traces of blood. Yet, despite her distress, he felt no sympathy.
As Alex gazed at Olivia's tear-streaked face, he felt an unexpected detachment. His thoughts drifted to another image, one etched in his memory: Emily, tears welling in her eyes, yet refusing to let them fall. In his recollection, she turned away, a facade of strength masking her true emotions. It was a stark contrast to their childhood days when she would openly weep in his presence, her vulnerability laid bare.
But now, Emily seemed distant, a shadow of her former self. She no longer confided in him as she once had, her tears concealed behind a façade of composure. Alex couldn't help but wonder how much had changed between them, how much they had drifted apart.
Lost in his thoughts, Alex barely registered Olivia's voice calling out to him again. "Alex?" she said, pulling him back to the present.
"What happened tonight?" Alex's tone was frigid, his gaze fixated on Olivia's forehead.
Olivia was taken aback. She and her friends had already pinned the blame on Emily back at the restaurant. After a moment's hesitation, she responded with a carefully calculated reply, "Don't blame Emily for this. Even if the scar is permanent, I won't blame her."
Alex's expression darkened, and he remained silent, sending a chill down Olivia's spine. To avoid incriminating herself further, Olivia spoke up, "Alex, it's not Emily's fault. I wasn't careful enough."
Alex turned his gaze back to Olivia, his eyes piercing. "Well, be more careful next time," he said coldly, his tone final and unwavering.
Olivia's face paled at Alex's stern words, her expression shifting to one of shock and disbelief. After a moment of silence, she suddenly buried her head in Alex's coat, clutching onto him tightly as tears filled her voice. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "I'll remember next time. The doctor mentioned the scar, and I was devastated. You won't leave me if it's permanent, will you?"
Alex frowned with a hint of impatience, attempting to push her away, but Olivia clung to his waist, desperation evident in her grip. "Do you know why I risked my life to save you when we were kids?" she continued, her voice wavering with emotion. "Because I can't bear to lose you. Please, don't leave me."
Her words gave Alex pause as he reflected on the memory of being saved by Olivia in the lake. His memory of being saved by Olivia was a hazy blur, shrouded in the fog of unconsciousness. He remembered the sensation of being pulled beneath the surface, the icy water closing in around him, suffocating and disorienting. Panic seized him as he struggled against the relentless currents, his lungs burning with the need for air.
It wasn't until he woke up in the hospital, his body weak and battered, that he learned the so-called truth. His grandmother stood by his bedside, her worried expression softened by relief as he stirred awake. And beside her stood Olivia, her face a mask of concern.
From that day forward, the memory of Olivia's selfless act lingered in his mind, a testament to her courage and devotion.
Moved by the undeniable truth that she had once pulled him from the brink of death, Alex gently patted her back and softened his tone. "Don't worry so much. I'll drive you home so you can get some rest."
As Alex's tone softened, Olivia breathed a sigh of relief. She couldn't help but acknowledge the irony of the situation: if not for Emily's brave intervention that saved Alex's life, Olivia wouldn't have found herself in this advantageous position. While Emily played the role of the hero, it was Olivia who seemed to reap the rewards. The realization brought a subtle curl to Olivia's lips.
The next morning,
Emily met Carla at the café, anticipation evident in Carla's laughter. "I can't wait to see her face with an ugly scar," Carla remarked, her tone laced with vindictiveness. "She deserves it."
"But she might resent you for this and try to frame you again. You need to be careful; she's evil," cautioned Emily, a chill running down Carla's spine at the thought of Olivia.
"Don't worry," Emily reassured her. "I won't let her hurt me."
After the early lunch, they made their way to the mall for some much-needed shopping therapy. When Emily returned home in the late afternoon, she discovered several missed calls and messages from Alex, forgotten in her phone's "do not disturb" night mode.
As Emily stepped through the door, Margaret greeted her with a sense of relief. "Mrs. Stratton, you're finally back. Mr. Stratton was looking for you. He called home several times already." Margaret's eyes fell on the shopping bags Emily carried, and she sighed with understanding. "He said you wouldn't pick up your phone."
"My phone was in silent mode," Emily explained as she approached the stairs. Just then, the phone in the living room began to ring. "Yes, Mrs. Stratton is back," Margaret answered before Emily continued upstairs with her newly bought clothes.
As she organized her closet, she reflected on the chilly weather and her growing belly, barely noticeable at two months pregnant. Suddenly, Alex appeared behind her, gripping her shoulders and turning her around to face him.
"Where did you go? Why didn't you answer my calls?" he demanded, his tone sharp.
Frowning, Emily attempted to break free from his grasp.
"If you're mad about last night..."
"I'm not mad," Emily interrupted. "My phone was on night mode," Emily explained, trying to distance herself from him. "You don't have to worry about what happened last night. I thought about it, and you were right."
Alex narrowed his eyes, his voice tense. "Right about what?"
"Blaming it on me. It was the right move for you," Emily admitted, her words surprising Alex.
"What?"
"From your point of view, you cared about her. Seeing her suffer must be hard," Emily remarked.
"So?" Alex's teeth were clenched as he awaited her explanation.
"It's understandable that you put her feelings as your top priority," Emily continued, her tone cold. "I'd do the same if I were you."
Alex's expression darkened, his disbelief evident. "So you're sure I already blamed it on you?"
"It doesn't matter," Emily replied icily, her resolve unwavering. After the events of the previous night, she had seen through the truth among them, and now, after her grandmother's surgery, it was time for her to depart gracefully.
Since that fateful night, an unspoken agreement settled between them, burying the tumultuous events under a facade of normalcy. In the presence of Grandma, they portrayed the image of a content couple, their interactions seamless and choreographed to perfection. Emily slipped back into her familiar role, greeting Alex with warmth in the morning, deftly assisting him with his ties and suits as if nothing had ever happened. At meal times, they sat side by side, sharing quiet conversations and exchanging glances that spoke volumes, yet remained unspoken. Holding hands became routine, whether it was during their morning walks with Grandma or while sitting together at the dinner table.
Only Alex knew it was all an act. Just like this morning when he was about to put on a tie, Emily intervened, saying, "It doesn't go well with the shirt." Alex turned to her, his gaze cold and distant, but Emily couldn't care less. "Try this one," she suggested, picking out a tie from the drawer.
As Alex held it up, Emily approached, offering to help. They stood close together, almost intimately so, and Alex found himself drawn to the familiarity of her presence—the softness of her features, the scent of her body wash lingering in the air. He longed to pull her closer, but Emily's icy demeanour reminded him of the charade they were playing.
"It's done," Emily announced, interrupting his thoughts.
"Thank you. You could make a great actress," Alex remarked, trying to maintain his composure.
"No worries," Emily replied with a light smile. "Have you heard anything about the surgery date for Grandma?" she asked, attempting to steer the conversation away from their underlying tension.
Alex's expression darkened, suspicion clouding his features. "Are you in a rush? Who is your target this time? It was Aaron Marson before. Is it Julian Everhart this time?" he accused, his words laced with bitterness.
Emily found the accusation absurd and refused to engage with it. "No one," she replied tersely.
"Emily, you're still my wife," Alex reminded her, his voice tinged with warning. "I'd prefer if you kept some friendly social distance with other men. I don't want Grandma to hear any rumours about you."
Blinking in disbelief, Emily retorted, "Rumours about me? Aren't all the rumours in the office about you and Olivia?" Her tone grew sharper as she continued, "In that case, I'd also like to remind you to keep a friendly social distance with other women, husband."