The call ended with a click, cutting off the last shred of hope I had clung to. It felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured over me, freezing me in place.
Of course, how could I have forgotten? Sylus had never loved me from the beginning. I had been a substitute for Charlotte all along, a mere shadow in their story.
With trembling hands, I called Julius, the one person in the manor I could still rely on.
I never knew when it started, but I had always been independent, ever since my parents died.
It seemed three years of being Sylus’s wife had changed me. I had grown accustomed to the idea of having someone to lean on, even if that person never truly cared.
Julius arrived in my room quickly, his eyes widening in alarm when he saw me drenched in sweat, as if I had just been pulled from the ocean.
Without a word, he moved to call Sylus, but I shook my head weakly, stopping him. "I already called," I whispered.
Understanding washed over Julius’s face.
He did not push further, knowing Sylus would not come. Instead, he offered a simple solution, "I will call a doctor to the house."
But I shook my head again, desperate. "No, Julius. I need to go to the hospital."
With that, he scooped me up and rushed me to the car.
Looking at the road, I felt like they were going to take me to a hospital funded by Fuentez, so I begged him again to go to another hospital.
He hesitated, torn between his concern and my request. "But the other hospital is farther away, and I am afraid you will not make it in time."
"I will hold on. Just take me to the one I mentioned. Please," I pleaded, barely able to keep my eyes open.
The reason why I did not want to go to Fuentez was my fear of the surgery I did not want that day.
I was just an ordinary commoner with no power or influence. If I went to their hospital again, I did not know what crazy actions Sylus would take to me.
Reluctantly, Julius agreed. "Okay, but you must hold on. I will drive as fast as I can."
By the time we arrived at the hospital, my vision was fading, and I was barely conscious. The last thing I remembered was the concerned face of the doctor I knew well, someone I trusted.
The relief of knowing I was in safe hands was the only thing that kept me from spiraling into complete darkness.
When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed, an IV in my arm, and Julius sitting dutifully beside me. His face, usually so calm, was etched with worry.