Chapter 128 Chapter 128: The Weight of Honest Words
\[Lilia\]
I didn’t even know why I was still crying. The tears streamed down my face as I ran through the corridors, my knees protesting every step. I didn’t care if anyone was following me; I was consumed by a triad of hatred. I hated Kael, I hated Sabina, and I hated myself most of all. I had seen this coming. I knew I was playing with fire the moment I invited that beast back into my bed, yet I still let myself be burned.
I should have been stronger. I should have controlled my emotions and acted as if I didn't care. But hell, it still fucking hurt.
I dashed through the labyrinthine halls until my blurred vision caught sight of my door. I stumbled inside and slammed it shut with such force the hinges rattled. The room was still a mess from the party, but I didn't care. I threw myself onto the bed, dived under the blanket, and curled into a ball. I screamed into the mattress, hurling insults at myself.
“You stupid bitch! Damn you!”
My hand throbbed from the punch I threw at Kael, and my face stung from Sabina’s slap, but those were just external pains. I could bear bruises; I couldn’t bear a bleeding heart.
Eventually, I heard the doorknob click, followed by soft, tentative footsteps on the carpet. I assumed it was Aya, coming to fulfill our promise of cleaning the room together.
“Aya, can we please clean later? I just want to be alone right now,” I croaked from beneath the blanket. My throat was scratchy, and I didn't have the energy to look at her. The person didn't speak, but they didn't leave either. “Aya, I promise—”
“Is it true?”
That voice. It was deep, masculine, and definitely not Aya. Fear surged in my stomach, and I threw off the blanket, leaping out of bed.
“Val?” I gaped at him, quickly smoothing down Kael’s oversized shirt. I was still naked underneath, and the realization made my skin crawl with nerves. “What are you doing here? You shouldn’t be here!”
“Why?”
“He’ll kill you!” my voice pitched higher. Kael might have acted like an ass in the kitchen, but I remembered his possessive growl at the pool. He meant every word. Val was his most trusted friend, but that wouldn't save him from Kael’s wrath if he found out about the kiss.
Val just stared at me, seemingly unfazed by the threat to his life. Instead, his gaze was heavy with a melancholy that made my chest ache. He was my friend, and I didn't want that to change.
“Last night. The kiss—”
“It didn’t happen,” I blurted out, cutting him off. “We both just imagined it. It was the alcohol.” I fiddled with my fingers, glancing anxiously at the door.
“How can you say that?”
I bit my lip, trying to find the words that would save him. “Please, you must understand. You know your boss. I don’t want you getting hurt for a simple mistake.”
I thought I was being helpful, but the pain that flashed in his eyes hit me like a physical blow. “Simple mistake? Is that what it was to you? A mistake?”
Guilt gnawed at me, but I forced myself to nod. “Yes.”
Val let out a hollow, pained laugh, shaking his head. “Not for me, Lilia. It meant the world to me.”
I would be lying if I said his confession didn't touch me. I remembered our horse ride, when he told me the girl he liked was unavailable because she was with another man. I had been a fool to think he was talking about Aya. I had even planned to be their matchmaker. Now, our entire friendship was hanging by a thread.
I had to push him away. If I didn't, something terrible would happen.
“Didn’t you hear?” I spat, my nails digging into my palms. “I fucked him right after that 'mistake'!”
“Do you love him?”
The question caught me completely off guard. “What?”
“Are you in love with him?” he repeated, his voice slow and deliberate. “You wouldn’t be crying like this if you weren't. What am I to you?”
“Val,” I sighed, moving closer to take his large hands in mine. “You mean so much to me. I don’t want to see you hurt, and I don’t want to ruin our friendship. I love you... but as a friend.” I looked him directly in the eye, fighting back fresh tears. “Please. Stay away from me.”
Val squeezed my hands briefly, his thumb brushing over my bruised knuckles, before he let go. “Okay,” he whispered, his jaw clenching as he backed toward the door. “Alright. If that’s what you wish.”
I wanted to chase him as he opened the door and disappeared, but I stayed rooted to the spot. As soon as he was gone, the emotions I’d been holding back burst forth. My strength failed, and my knees buckled. I collapsed onto the floor, my chest feeling as though it had been pierced by a dozen knives.
It was a terrible, wrenching feeling—so heavy that for a moment, I wished the world would just stop.
The sound of the water splattering against the tiles ricocheted off the four walls of my bathroom. Steam rose from the tub as I stared blankly at the ceiling. I feel like I've shed enough tears for the day, and I don't think any more liquid is coming out of my body if I weep any longer.
The hot bath helped me calm down, clearing my head of all thoughts. I don't remember much about how I managed to get off the floor and take myself here. I just came to my senses, and somehow I am already soaking in the steaming water. Aya hadn't shown up, and I’m glad that she didn’t.
I lifted my hand closer to my face and examined the swollen knuckles on my fingers. The water droplets rippled across the surface. I'm bruised, almost broken. I've endured too much damage to my body, yet surprisingly, I still live. Does God have such a deep-seated hatred for me? Why would He choose to give me such a miserable life? I may not have gone to church, but I believe in His Almighty Existence. I don't have the right to ask questions, but I want to know if I really deserve this kind of life.
Unconsciously, a single tear slipped down my cheek and landed on the side of my face. It was so subtle that I had completely missed it as it passed over the crease of my eye. My heart still hurts, but I hardly even feel it as my body has gone numb all over. My brain does not even function well; it just went blank, as though it shut itself down, blocking everything from entering like some defensive mechanism. I was more like an empty shell—hollowed on the inside.
I couldn't sleep either. I don’t know why my body seemed weary, yet I couldn’t keep my eyes closed. Resigning a deep breath, I slowly pulled myself out of the tub upon noticing that my skin had wrinkled from soaking for far too long. I reached for my towel, patted myself dry, and moved toward the mirror. I looked at my reflection, memorizing each mark left on my body. The deep bluish spot underneath my jaw, down to my collarbone, and a couple just at the swell of my breast—an agonizing reminder of the passionate night we had.
However, the red mark on the side of my face tells a different story. A repercussion of my foolish acts, and I deserved it.