Chapter 47 : You Don’t Need To Feel Guilty
A woman’s face was everything. Allison was ambitious. How was she supposed to face the world now?
He was sure she would break down. Perhaps she will cry. Maybe even lash out and throw something.
But she didn’t.
She put the mirror down, took the glass from him, and drank slowly.
Jareth realized he was watching her more intently.
Allison held the glass with both hands and looked up. “The stitches are clean. If I make the right ointment, it shouldn’t leave a scar. You don’t need to feel guilty.”
Jareth’s eyes trembled, then his voice turned mocking. “Now you’re the one comforting me?”
“If I hadn’t blocked his fist, Ronan would have hit the sphenopalatine point near your temple. That could have killed you,” Allison mumbled softly. “I didn’t want you to get hurt.”
For a brief moment, something shifted inside Jareth. But, as always, he hid it well.
Allison realized how it must have sounded and quickly added, “Madam Berry is still recovering. If something happened to you, it would shock her. That would make everything I did meaningless.”
That sounded more like her.
Jareth scoffed. That explanation made a lot more sense.
Allison went back to drinking her water, taking small sips.
She knew very well that plain water was not ideal after dehydration. It needed salt or sugar, something to restore electrolytes.
She did not want to bother Jareth, so this was the best she could do, just enough to wet her lips. Steam curled up from the cup and softened the look of her lowered lashes.
Jareth looked at her quietly, and his eyes drifted from the line of her nose down to her mouth.
Her lips were full and pink, shining with the warmth of the steam.
The water was still warm. Allison blew on it gently. Her lips parted, just a tiny bit…
Jareth frowned and turned away, clearly unhappy.
Allison noticed his reaction, and she looked up at him.
He walked to the window and opened it slightly to let some air in, without glancing at her again.
Behind her, out of sight, his eyes were clouded with irritation. He could not believe he had just reacted that way to Allison.
Allison did not understand. She was about to speak when someone knocked on the door.
Jake peeked inside, his eyes lighting up as he looked at Allison first. Then he turned to Jareth and said, “Jareth, Madam Berry is awake. She wants to see you.”
Jareth gave a simple reply and, with the help of his cane, walked out of the room.
Allison sat up in bed, her eyes following the way he moved.
"Handsome, right?"
She turned toward Jake, who was grinning like a gossiping aunt.
"Jareth is the best-looking man on a cane I've ever seen," Jake said. "But don't stare too much. He's petty."
Allison gave a small nod, thankful for the warning. She knew people with disabilities sometimes carried emotional wounds too.
Jake's eyes shifted to the gash on her face, and he sighed. "Don't worry about the scar. Even if it doesn't heal on its own, Jareth will find the best plastic surgeon to fix it."
"Huh?" Allison blinked, startled.
Thinking she did not believe him, Jake added, "He said it himself. I can tell that he treats you differently."
"Does he?"
"Definitely. He's not usually like this."
"What's he usually like, then?"
"He..." Jake stopped mid-sentence, realizing that if Jareth did like her, he could easily mess it up by saying the wrong thing. "He's usually cold. Really cold."
Allison felt a little disappointed that she could not get more information from him.
Just then, Jake took a call. Whatever he heard made him glance at Allison and nod.
When he hung up, he said, "Ms. Rogers, Madam Berry wants to see you."
He suddenly brought a wheelchair. "Come on, I'll take you there."
"I... I don't think that's necessary..." Allison was still a little dizzy and lightheaded, but not enough to need a wheelchair. She could manage to move smoothly.
Jake leaned closer and lowered his voice. "This isn't about the wheelchair. It's about appearances."
"She doesn't like you. If you look pitiful, it's harder for her to treat you coldly."
Allison thought that even Jake can tell she doesn't like me.
She sat down in the wheelchair. Jake pushed her toward Madam Berry's room.
"Madam, I brought Ms. Rogers," Jake called out as they entered.
Allison gripped her sleeves tightly, feeling exposed as everyone turned their heads towards her.
Madam Berry lay in bed. Jareth stood beside her.
Oliver was by the door. Jake stood behind the wheelchair.
Allison was just looking around when a sharp face suddenly leaned closer.
She pulled back on instinct.
A red-haired man frowned. "Damn. That's ugly."
He stepped back with exaggerated flair, hands in his pockets, dripping with arrogance. "No way I'm marrying that freak. Someone else can take her."
Even without seeing him before, it was easy to guess. This had to be Archer, the man Ruth had called a "perfect match."
Seeing him stomp around like a lunatic, Allison thought her injury had come at the perfect time. He found her ugly. She did not want to marry him either.
But she did not want to look smug, so she lowered her eyes and let them redden with tears.
Jareth’s expression darkened. He shot Archer a fierce look.
What did this man have that made Allison work so hard just to marry into this family? She saved Madam Berry, took the blame, and even risked her face.
Madam Berry finally told Archer to shut up.
Even if she did not like Allison, she had saved her life and taken a blow meant for Jareth. That was not something she could ignore.
Her eyes shifted to Allison's face. The wound was long, and the stitches were clearly visible. It was hard to look at them.
Even if she did not want to admit it, the injury sent a chill through her chest.
To take a hit like that for someone, the girl was either stupid or tough.
Madam Berry’s expression softened slightly. “Will her face recover?”
Before Jake could answer, Oliver quickly interrupted. “The cut is too deep. Even the plastic surgeons said it might not fully heal.”
Archer burst out laughing. “That’s great. Grandma, I can’t take this monster out in public. Why don’t we just let Jareth have her?”