Chapter 128

Elena's POV

I don't want to spend another eight years saving you.

Emma's parting words echoed in my mind like a broken record.

What did she mean by that? Eight years?

I shifted uncomfortably, wincing as pain shot through my abdomen. My thoughts churned restlessly.

Fuck this. I need water.

Suddenly, the thirst felt unbearable. I carefully pushed myself up, ignoring the protest from my injured body. Richard was still in the bathroom; I could hear the hair dryer running.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, steadying myself against the nightstand. The crystal water carafe stood there. My hand reached for an empty glass, but my fingers trembled—from weakness or emotion, I couldn't tell.

The glass slipped from my grasp.

CRASH!

The sound of shattering crystal echoed through the room like a gunshot. I froze, my heart skipping several beats. Damn. The noise from the bathroom stopped instantly.

He's going to be angry.

I hurriedly bent down, intent on cleaning up before Richard emerged, but pain lanced through my stomach. I gasped, clutching at my wound.

The bathroom door handle turned with a click.

Crap.

Richard appeared in the doorway, his expression dark.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, voice low and dangerous.

I stiffened, trying not to show how much pain I was in. "I... I wanted some water."

Despite my injury, I attempted to crouch down to pick up the shards. Before I could reach them, Richard's hand shot out, grabbing my wrist in a firm but not painful grip.

"Didn't I give you water earlier? Why are you being so difficult?" His tone was impatient, but surprisingly lacked the fury I expected.

To my astonishment, he knelt down and began gathering the broken pieces himself, movements quick and precise. His other hand maintained its grip on my wrist, keeping me from helping?

Is he... protecting me?

"Stand still and don't move," he ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument. "The last thing I need is for you to cut yourself and bleed all over my floor."

I obeyed, leaning against the nightstand for support as I watched him efficiently clean up my mess.

When he finished, he straightened up, finally releasing my wrist. "Do you still want water?" he asked gruffly.

I hesitated before nodding. "...Yes."

Richard brought a fresh glass. Then, unexpectedly, he reached into a drawer and pulled out a small pill bottle.

"Take this," he said, handing me both the water and a small white tablet. "It'll help with the pain."

I stared at the pill, then at him, confusion written all over my face.

"It's just a painkiller," he explained with a hint of exasperation. "I'm not trying to poison you."

I swallowed the pill obediently, washing it down with water. The cool liquid felt heavenly against my parched throat.

Richard took the empty glass and disappeared into the bathroom. Probably washing his hands after handling the broken glass.

I remained standing, unsure what to do next. I'd planned to return to bed, but something made me wait for his return. A question burned on my tongue, and I knew I wouldn't sleep until I asked it.

When Richard emerged, I gathered my courage.

"That doctor from earlier," I began carefully, "who is she?"

Richard's expression closed immediately. "Why are you asking about her? It's none of your business."

My face fell, disappointment washing over me. I should have expected that response. My head drooped.

Richard noticed my emotional drop. Something in his expression shifted almost imperceptibly.

"She's my primary physician," he said, his tone softer than before.

My eyes widened at this unexpected concession. "Really? So she's the one who... treated you during that time?"

"Yes." The word carried weight, and I detected something complex flickering in his eyes.

"But she seems so young," I continued, pushing my luck. "She looks about your age. How could she have been treating you for eight years?"

Richard's lips curved into a sardonic smile. "Not everyone is as incompetent as you. Some people actually excel in their chosen fields."

I bristled at the insult. "I'm not incompetent! I just wasn't interested in medicine. I'm much better with numbers and finance..."

To my surprise, Richard didn't contradict me. Instead, he explained, "She's young but talented. The Wells family has been prominent in medicine for generations. They operate medical facilities in Moonhaven."

"The Wells family?" I echoed, eyes widening. "I thought they'd moved abroad years ago."

"Only partially," Richard elaborated. "They maintain a significant presence here. Their medical facilities operate worldwide now."

I absorbed this information, connecting dots in my mind. If Emma was from the prestigious Wells medical dynasty, that explained her skills.

Before I could ask more, Richard's patience evidently ran out.

"Are you done with your interrogation? Do you plan to stand there all night instead of sleeping?"

"N-no," I stammered. "I'm going to bed now..."

I turned to make my way back, but Richard's arm suddenly snaked around my waist. Before I could process what was happening, he'd lifted me effortlessly off the ground.

"Ah!" I yelped in surprise, instinctively grabbing his shoulder for balance.

My heart hammered against my ribs. "What are you doing?" I demanded, my voice embarrassingly unsteady.

"What does it look like?" he replied dryly. "Waiting for you to crawl back to bed would take all night."

Richard deposited me carefully on the bed, pulling the covers over me with surprising gentleness. I sank into the mattress, relief mixing with confusion.

The momentary peace shattered when the ceiling light flicked on. I squinted against the sudden brightness, then froze as I saw Richard approaching the other side of the bed.

He pulled back the covers and slid in beside me.

My mind went completely blank. Is this really happening?

I stared at him with wide eyes, feeling as though I was seeing a stranger. "You're... sleeping here?"

Richard raised an eyebrow. "This is my bedroom," he stated matter-of-factly. "And you are, legally speaking, still my wife."

I had no response to that. In all our years of marriage before I left, we'd rarely shared a bed like normal couples.

I lay rigid, staring at the ceiling, acutely aware of his presence mere inches away. My heart refused to slow down, and sleep seemed more impossible than ever.

An hour passed this way until exhaustion and the painkiller finally overcame my anxiety. I fell into a deep sleep.