Chapter 112 The Woman at the Door
Chapter One Hundred and Twelve
Valenticia POV~
By the time I got Stefan to my house, he was half asleep. His head fell against the car window during the drive, and he mumbled things I couldn’t understand. When I stopped the car, he lifted his head weakly and looked at me.
“Val,” he whispered.
“I know,” I said quietly. “We’re here.”
I helped him out of the car. He was heavy and unsteady. His steps were slow and clumsy. I wrapped his arm over my shoulder and held him tight so he wouldn’t fall. He smelled like smoke and alcohol. His body was warm and trembling.
We made it to my front door after what felt like forever. I pushed the door open and guided him inside. He collapsed onto the couch, falling against the cushions like his strength had left him.
I stood there for a moment, catching my breath. Then I crouched down next to him.
“Stefan,” I said softly. “Can you hear me?”
He moved his head a little and blinked, but his eyes were unfocused. “Val…”
“I’m here,” I said again.
He tried to sit up, but I pushed him back gently. “Don’t move. You need to rest.”
He muttered something I couldn’t make out and closed his eyes again.
I sighed and looked around. I didn’t know what else to do with him. He was drunk, exhausted, and broken all at once. I took off his shoes one by one and set them beside the couch. Then I grabbed a blanket from the armchair and covered him with it.
His hand slipped from under the blanket, so I tucked it back in. I stood there for a moment, just watching him breathe. His face was calm now. All the tension and anger he usually carried were gone.
A part of me ached. I hated seeing him like this—so lost and helpless. Another part of me was angry that he still had the power to make me feel this way. After everything, after all the pain, I still cared.
I shook my head and walked to the kitchen. I poured a glass of water and brought it back to the table next to him. I placed it there quietly.
He mumbled again. “Val…”
I looked down. “What is it?”
He didn’t answer. His head turned slightly on the pillow. His breathing evened out. He was asleep.
I stared at him for a long time. My feelings were everywhere—sadness, worry, frustration, guilt. I didn’t know which one to listen to.
Then, suddenly, a loud noise broke the silence.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
It was the front door. Someone was pounding on it hard.
I froze.
As the sound came again. BANG. BANG.
My heart jumped. I turned toward the door, unsure of what to do. It was late. Nobody visited at this hour.
I walked slowly toward it, my steps quiet but tense.
“Who is it?” I called out.
But there was no answer.
The knocking came again, louder this time.
I swallowed hard and unlocked the door.
Before I could even open it all the way, Natasha pushed her way inside.
Her makeup was smeared, her eyes red and wild. Her hair was falling out of its fancy style. Her dress was wrinkled, and her breathing was heavy, like she had been crying and yelling for hours.
She looked straight at me, her expression full of rage. “Where is he?” she snapped.
I didn’t answer right away. I was too shocked.
Then her eyes moved past me—and she saw him.
Stefan, lying on my couch. Still asleep. Covered with a blanket. His shoes are off. His face was soft and peaceful.
Her face changed completely. First shock. Then anger. Then something else—jealousy, maybe.
“Of course,” she said bitterly. “I should have known where he’d run.”
“Natasha—” I started, but she cut me off.
She stormed across the room. Her heels hit the floor so hard that I thought they’d break. She stood over Stefan, staring down at him with fury in her eyes. Then she reached down and grabbed his arm roughly.
“Wake up!” she shouted. “Get up, Stefan!”
He stirred and groaned. “What’s… going on…”
She yanked his arm harder. “You left me at the altar! Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Reporters are outside my house! The news is everywhere! You embarrassed me in front of everyone!”
He blinked slowly, still drunk and half-asleep. “Natasha?”
“Yes, it’s me,” she snapped. “And now I find you here—with her.”
She turned her head toward me, her eyes like blades. “You must be so proud,” she said. “He runs from our wedding and comes straight to you. You always find a way to make yourself the victim, don’t you?”
I clenched my fists. “That’s not fair. He came here because he needed help. He was drunk. He was lost. I didn’t plan this.”
She laughed coldly. “Of course not. You never plan anything, right? Things just happen around you. Poor, innocent Valenticia, always caught in the middle.”
“Stop it,” I said, my voice firm. “You don’t get to talk to me like that.”
She stepped closer, glaring right into my eyes. “You think you’re better than me? You think you’re the one he really wants?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to,” she hissed. “I can see it in your face.”
I took a deep breath and forced myself to stay calm. “He’s not yours right now, Natasha. He’s drunk and he’s exhausted. Let him rest.”
She laughed again, but this time her voice cracked. “Rest? After ruining everything I worked for? After humiliating me? He doesn’t get to rest.”
She turned back to Stefan and grabbed his arm again. “We’re leaving.”
Stefan groaned weakly. “Stop pulling me…”
“You’re coming home,” she said through gritted teeth. “Now.”
“Natasha…” His voice was slurred. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.” She pulled harder.
I stepped forward. “Stop it! You’re hurting him.”
She spun on me so fast that I froze. “Stay away from him,” she warned. “You’ve caused enough damage already.”
“I’m not letting you drag him out like this,” I said firmly.
Her eyes blazed. “He’s my fiancé. You have no right to stop me.”
I wanted to argue. I wanted to tell her that she lost that right the moment he ran out of the wedding. But Stefan’s hand slipped from her grip, and he nearly fell. I caught him before he hit the floor.
He looked between us, his eyes unfocused. “What’s happening?” he mumbled.
Natasha forced his arm back around her shoulder. “Nothing. We’re going home.”
He barely stood on his own. His body leaned against her as she tried to pull him toward the door.
I followed them a few steps. “Natasha, he’s not in any shape to go anywhere.”
She didn’t look at me. “I said stay out of it.”
“Please,” I said, my voice breaking a little. “Just let him rest for one night.”
She stopped and turned her head slowly toward me. Her face was pale now, her makeup streaked. Her voice dropped to a low, sharp tone.
“Don’t worry, Valenticia,” she said coldly. “I’ll make sure he never comes running to you again.”
Her words hit hard. I stood there, frozen, as she turned back toward the door. Stefan leaned against her, barely conscious, his head resting against her shoulder. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t even look back.
The door opened, and Natasha pulled him through it without hesitation.
The door closed behind them.
And I was left standing alone in my quiet living room, staring at the space they had just left.