Chapter 88 Rage Blackout
Veronica's POV:
I felt strange when I opened my eyes.
The light was too bright. The smell was wrong... like that of a hospital. And the bed beneath me was narrow, uncomfortable, with scratchy sheets that weren't mine.
Why was I sleeping in a hospital bed?
I blinked, trying to focus, and saw three figures near me. My mother, sitting in a chair by the window, her perfectly made-up face showing unusual signs of distress.
And Max and Theo were both standing at the foot of my bed, looking tight with worry.
"What is going on here?" I asked, my voice coming out hoarse and confused. "How did I end up here?"
They all looked at each other, and some silent communication was passing between them that I couldn't decipher.
My mother leaned forward, reaching for my hand with uncharacteristic gentleness. "Sweety, stay calm, okay? Don't get angry anymore. Just stop this."
"Anger?" I repeated, feeling completely lost. "What are you talking about?"
"She really doesn't remember anything," Max said, running his hand through his dark hair. "This is sick."
"Stop using that language, Max," Theo said sharply. Then he moved closer to my bed, carefully taking my other hand... the one my mother wasn't clutching... and looked at me with those calm green eyes that always made me feel like everything might be okay even when it clearly wasn't.
"Veronica," he said gently. "I need you to try to stay calm while I explain something, alright?"
"You're scaring me."
"I know. I'm sorry." Theo took a deep breath. "Do you remember going to see your father? Three days ago?"
Three days? Had I been unconscious for three days?
"I... yes. I remember going to his townhouse. He gave me an invitation to the Debutante Ball. He wanted me to be with Ethan. He threatened my business inheritance if I didn't..." I trailed off, trying to pull up the rest of the memory.
But it was just... gone. Like someone had taken scissors to the film reel of my life and cut out everything after that conversation.
"What happened after that?" I asked, my voice small.
Theo squeezed my hand. "According to your father and the household staff, you lost your temper. Started yelling, throwing things. You knocked over a very expensive vase, apparently. And several books from his shelves. Then you collapsed."
I stared at him. "What? Did I do all that? I don't remember anything."
"We know," Theo said gently. "The doctors explained it to us. You had what's called a rage blackout."
"A what?"
"The doctor has already mentioned the possibilities of you losing that specific memory," Theo continued, speaking in that educational tone he used when explaining complex things. "When you experience extreme stress or anger, excessive amounts of cortisol, which is the stress hormone, will enter your bloodstream. That flood of cortisol can interfere with your hypothalamus, which is the part of your brain that helps form and consolidate memories that you live with. So you can experience an episode, be fully conscious during it, but have no memory of it afterward... just because of your anger..."
I felt tears pricking at my eyes. "So I just... lost control? Threw things like some kind of maniac? And I can't even remember it?"
"You were under extreme stress," my mother interjected. She was unusually soft with me. "Your father has been... difficult. And the situation with these two..." she gestured at Max and Theo, "... hasn't been helping."
"Where is Father?" I asked suddenly. "Is he here?"
Max's jaw tightened. "He came by once. Briefly."
"And?" I pressed.
"He thinks you were intoxicated," Max said bluntly. "Drunk or high. He refuses to believe it was just a rage blackout. Says you were probably on something and that's why you don't remember."
Of course. Of course, my father would find a way to make this my fault, to paint me as irresponsible and out of control, rather than acknowledge that his behavior might have pushed me to a breaking point.
"He's started telling people you have a substance abuse problem," my mother added quietly, looking down at her hands. "I've tried to correct the narrative, but..."
That was it.
The final straw.
All these weeks, I'd been trying to be the good daughter, the perfect heiress, the one who would make him proud enough to acknowledge me. Sot that he would let me into the family business, and treat me as more than just a pawn to be married off strategically.
And what had it gotten me? Threats to my inheritance, being pushed at men I didn't want, and now accusations of drug use when I'd had a stress-induced breakdown.
"I give up," I said out loud. "I give up on everything."
"Veronica..." Theo started, concern flooding his face.
"Maybe I'll just marry Chase as well, if it could make him happy," I continued. "Whoever Father prefers. What's the point of fighting anymore? What's the point of this struggle?"
"Veronica, you need to calm down," Theo said firmly, squeezing my hand. "You're spiraling right now. You don't mean what you're saying."
"Don't I?" I looked at him, then at Max, then at my mother. " What am I fighting for? A father who will never approve of me? A career he can destroy with a few phone calls? And this love triangle that we are trapped in... he doesn't understand this... "
Max and Theo exchanged a long look, and something passed between them... some unspoken understanding that made me clench internally with anxiety.
"We should talk," Max said to his brother. "Outside."
"Now?" Theo asked.
"Yes. Now."
Theo looked torn, his eyes moving between me and Max. Then he gently released my hand. "We'll be right back. Your mother is here with you."
I watched them leave the hospital room, their figures disappearing through the doorway, and felt a strange sense of something like foreboding settling over me.
In the hallway outside Veronica's room, Max pulled his brother aside, his expression serious in a way Theo had rarely seen since Max's sincere transformation.
"We need to talk about this," Max said quietly, making sure they were far enough from the door that Veronica couldn't hear.
"About what?" Theo asked, though he had a sinking feeling he knew.
"About us. About her. About this whole fucked-up situation we've put her in."
Theo crossed his arms defensively. "We agreed to let her choose..."
"Brother, we're just making it harder for Veronica if we both keep dating her," Max interrupted. "Look at her in there. She's falling apart. Rage blackouts, her father threatening her business, the stress of trying to figure out what she feels for each of us while managing her own career crisis. We shouldn't become a burden on her."