Unveiled Secrets and Unsteady Hearts.
After the woman left, I realized how famished I was and decided to cook something simple. In no time, I emerged from the kitchen with a plate of vibrant, steaming noodles, their aroma tantalizing. I set the plate on the dining table and moved to turn on the television, only to notice my phone blinking on the couch.
Picking it up, I was shocked to see multiple missed calls and unread messages from Fredrick. Guilt gnawed at me as I realized how deeply I must have slept. His most recent message made my stomach churn.
"I'm on my way. I'm worried. Please answer me."
I immediately called him back, but the line was busy. Panicking, I quickly sent a text.
"Hey, Boo! I'm so sorry for missing your calls. I'm okay, I promise. Don't worry about me."
I hoped the message would reach him in time to stop him from coming over. I wasn't ready to face Fredrick. Not now, not when my mind was weighed down by so many conflicting emotions.
A few minutes later, my phone buzzed. Fredrick's name flashed on the screen, and I braced myself.
"Hello? Darling, what's going on?" His voice was frantic. "I've been calling for hours! Are you okay? Where are you?"
"I'm fine, Fredrick," I assured him. "I was sleeping. I didn't mean to scare you."
He wasn't convinced. "Sleeping? All this time? MMA, that's not like you."
"I know," I said softly, massaging my temple. "I'm sorry."
Fredrick sighed, and I could hear the hum of the engine in the background. "I'm driving right now. Let's talk when I get there." His tone was clipped, and I knew he was upset.
Fredrick had always been emotional and deeply caring. His anger, when it came, was rooted in his worry and love. But unlike Max, Fredrick's frustration rarely lingered. Max, on the other hand, was a tempest waiting to erupt—a man who could shift from sweet to cold when things didn't go his way.
The weight of everything overwhelmed me, and I sank onto the couch, my body heavy with exhaustion. My plate of noodles sat untouched on the dining table, growing cold.
Before long, the low hum of Fredrick's car broke the silence. I forced myself to get up and open the door. My steps were unsteady, my vision swimming. Leaning against the wall for support, I managed to pull the door open.
Fredrick's expression shifted instantly from frustration to concern. Without a word, he scooped me up in his arms and carried me to the bedroom, laying me gently on the bed.
"Now, tell me the truth," he said, his voice firm but tender. "What's wrong, my love?"
I smiled weakly. "I'm just a little dizzy, baby. I think I need food and water."
His brow furrowed in shock. "You haven't eaten all day?"
"I forgot," I admitted, guilt creeping into my voice.
Shaking his head, Fredrick immediately ordered food online before heading to the kitchen to grab me a glass of water. As he moved around, I could feel his worry lingering in the air, heavy and palpable.
When the food arrived—pasta in a rich, spicy tomato sauce—I ate slowly, the warmth and flavors reviving me. Fredrick sat by my side, his eyes never leaving me.
"Why don't you spend the night at my place?" he suggested. "I can take better care of you there."
I hesitated. "You don't need to, Fredy. I'll be fine. You've got so much work to do with that contract. I don't want to be a distraction."
His shoulders slumped, and a pained look crossed his face. "Lately, it feels like you've been shutting me out," he said softly. "You won't tell me what's wrong, and it hurts, MMA. Please, let me be here for you."
His words cut through my defenses. I hated seeing him like this—so hurt, so vulnerable. Against my better judgment, I agreed to go back with him.
Later that evening, I lay on his bed, watching a movie. Fredrick worked at his laptop in the living room, immersed in his project. The stillness was broken by the vibration of my phone. The caller ID showed a familiar but unexpected number.
My heart clenched. Maxwell.
I answered in a hushed tone, making sure Fredrick wouldn't overhear. "Max? Where have you been all these years? Why are you calling me now? What do you want?"
His voice, deep and smooth, came through the line. "MMA, I'll explain everything, but not like this. Please, let's meet. I've missed you."
I clenched my teeth. The audacity of him calling me his MMA after so many years ignited a flicker of anger. Yet, curiosity clawed at me. I needed answers—closure.
"Fine," I said finally. "Tell me when and where."
After hanging up, I tiptoed to the door and peeked into the living room. Fredrick sat with his back to me, his fingers flying over the keyboard. Relieved that he hadn't overheard, I returned to the bed and sank into the pillows, my mind spinning.
The storm of emotions swirled within me—Fredrick's unwavering devotion, Max's sudden reappearance, and my own unsteady heart caught between two worlds.