Chapter 8 Unwelcomed Reunion
Valenticia's POV:
When I got out of the man’s car, there was a burning feeling in my legs from the deep scrape I’d got when I fell. Blood oozed down my skin. And I realized that I needed to return home quickly for safety.
After a deep breath, I took my phone out to call my grandmother. When I hit the power button, the screen remained black. Dead. Of course. Just my luck. A soft sigh escaped my lips as I looked around the unfamiliar street. I had no shoes on my feet, cuts on my legs and I didn’t even have a damn phone to call for help.
Pedestrians on the sidewalk gave me glances. Some curious, some judging. I must’ve appeared deranged — a woman in a torn dress, barefoot, wandering around.
Still, I did not stop walking, the rhythm of my pace slow and graceful through the pain. I thought about the man in the car.
That cold, arrogant stranger.
Why hadn’t I made use of his phone? It was the right thing to do, but my pride hadn’t allowed me to do it. But now, I was gnashing my teeth at myself for being so clueless.
The sound of a car approaching snapped me out of my reverie. It drove by, and a few seconds later, the sound of screeching tires pierced the air. I ignored it while still walking. I turned my head just a bit and there was the same car driving towards me. I picked up my pace, unwilling to contemplate what was about to ensue.
The door swung open as the driver stepped out, and my feet went still at once.
Dimitri.
My ex-husband....
The man I loved with every fiber of my being. The same man who had broken me without a moment’s thought.
A wave of feelings surged through me, but I tamped them down and shoved them into a box where they belonged. I wasn’t about to let him see so much as a hint of the pain he’d caused me.
Dimitri’s eyes widened as he absorbed my appearance. "Valenticia?" His voice was laced with disbelief, concern, and something else. Something I didn’t care to analyze.
I just stared back at him blank-faced, then turned on my heel and kept walking.
But Dimitri was never one to take the hint.
He rushed after me, one hand closing around my wrist.
"Wait—what happened to you?"
I snatched away my hand as if his touch had burned me. "Don't touch me," I shouted. "And don’t talk to me. Just leave."
He scowled, blocking my path by stepping in front of me. "You're injured. Did something happen? Were you attacked?"
His voice was laced with worry, but I could not believe his actions.
I let out a short, humorless laugh. "What’s it to you?"
Dimitri's jaw tightened. Come on, let me take you to the hospital. You need medical attention—"
“I’m not asking you for anything.” My patience was wearing thin. I just needed to go home. Now, get out of my way."
"Valencia—"
"Are you deaf?" I snapped. "I said scram."
His face contorted in frustration, but he refused to move. You're being stubborn. You are not able to walk, and you look like you are about to pass out. His voice softened. I know you hate me, but I’m not your enemy.
At least let me help you one time!”
I folded my arms and glared up at him. “You don’t get to dictate what I need. And you damn sure don’t get to pretend you care.”
He inhaled deeply, his breath slowly escaping. Even if you’re angry with me, even if you never want to see me again, just please, let me take you to the hospital. If you want, I’ll call the police. Or I can take you home.
That made me laugh, shaking my head. That’s your goal, isn’t it? "You want to put me in your car, then take me somewhere — then what? "You’re going to take advantage of me when I’m weak?” I stepped closer and said venomously.
When we were married, you made me feel like I was nothing. Now, suddenly, you care?"
Dimitri flinched, as though the words had hit him.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” I continued, my voice rising. “You think you can just walk back into my life and act like your worried ex-husband? Breaking news, Dimitri, you have lost that privilege. You lost it the day you discarded me like garbage. Now move before I make you."
He opened his mouth but couldn’t speak. His fists balled. “It wasn’t my fault,” he finally said between clenched teeth. "Natasha—she—she seduced me. I—" he exhaled shakily. "I know I hurt you. 'And I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but after you left…I realized how much I regretted everything.’ His gaze softened. "Can we…at least be friends?"
That did it.
I threw back my head and laughed. A loud, bitter laugh.
"Friends?" I repeated, mockingly. “Do you think I am a fool, Dimitri? "You always thought I was this naive?” My laugh had died, leaving only a cold stare. “Go home to your pregnant wife.’
His face paled.
Before he had a chance to say anything else, I saw a taxi approaching in the distance. I got out onto the road and flagged it down immediately. The taxi stopped slowly in front of me.
With a blank expression, I looked at Dimitri one last time. “You can’t go both ways, Dimitri. You already made your choice when you signed those divorce papers. She was the woman you wanted; she is back in your life. Stay with her, and leave me out of this."
I opened the taxi door and slipped inside without waiting for his reply. I hardly looked at him as I told the driver my address.
When the car drove away, I didn’t look back.
Dimitri belonged to my past. And there he would remain.
–
The ride home was silent. I rested my head against the glass of the taxi window, watching the streetlights blur as we passed. My body was sore.
As we finally drove up to the house, I let out a sharp exhale.
“Wait here,” I told the driver.
I opened the door and walked out, grimacing a little when pain flared in my leg. Before I could even take another step, the main security guard outside saw me. His eyes widened in alarm as he bolted toward me.
"Miss! "We've been waiting for you!" he said breathlessly. His eyes shifted to my shredded dress, my black and blue arms, my bare feet. "Are you hurt? What happened?"
I shook my head. "I'm fine," I muttered. "Just pay the driver."
The man hesitated for a moment, obviously still skeptical, but he nodded and rushed to take care of the fare. I didn’t stick around to hear more. I opened the door to the front and entered.
As soon as I did, the house erupted into motion.
"Miss Valenticia!"
"You're home!"
"Thank God!"
Concerned, the voices of the staff echoed through the corridor, their expressions a mixture of relief and concern. And then, out of the corner of my eye, there she was.
"Valenticia!"
My grandmother.
She ran to me, her eyes sparkling with tears. As soon as she got to me, she wrapped me in a hug.
“Thank God you’re all right,” she whispered, kissing my forehead, trembling. "We were so worried."
“I’m fine, Grandma,” I said softly, even though we both knew I wasn’t.
She leaned back a bit, her keen eyes taking me in. "You're hurt. "Call the doctor immediately!" she ordered the staff.
Within minutes, a doctor appeared, stitching my wounds. I hardly noticed the sting as he cleaned and bandaged my wounds. My mind was elsewhere, hung up on the happenings of the night, on the faces I wanted to forget.
When the doctor was done, I withdrew to my room, yearning for the silence. But it didn't last long.
There was a gentle knock at the door, and my grandmother entered.
She glanced at me, sitting at the end of my bed, and sighed. “Have you any idea who did this to you?”
I stood up and walked around the room. My head was spinning with thoughts and possibilities. I walked to the window and looked out into the dark outside.
And then, I made my decision.
“Grandma,” I said, my voice steady and resolute.
“I feel it’s time for me to take control.”