Chapter 17
The antiseptic smell of the hospital room wrinkled my nose as I regained consciousness. A dull throb pulsed at my temple, and when I reached up, I felt a bandage. Memories before I blacked out rushed back–the ring shopping, Raymond and Giana, the confrontation, and then pain.
A soft shuffling sound drew my attention to the corner of the room. Giana stood there, fidgeting uncomfortably under Raymond’s
stern gaze.
“Say it,” he urged in a hushed voice.
Giana approached my bed with the enthusiasm of someone walking to the gallows. “I’m sorry about what happened,” she muttered, not meeting my eyes. The apology rang hollow, each word dripping with insincerity.
I regarded her coldly. “Are you sorry it happened, or sorry you were caught?”
Her eyes flashed with brief anger. “I’m trying to apologize here.”
“And I’m trying to recover from being punched in the face,” I replied evenly. “Raymond’s parents will be arriving soon. You should leave.”
Her mouth opened, likely to deliver some cutting retort, but I added, “Quickly.”
Giana’s gaze darted to Raymond, clearly expecting him to defend her. He shifted uncomfortably, caught between us.
“Maybe that would be best,” he finally said, voice gentle. “I’ll call you later.”
Giana’s expression crumpled into a wounded look that I’d seen her perfect over the months. “But Ray-”
“Please, Glana,” he said, his tone softening in that special way he reserved only for her. “Just for now.”
She hesitated, clearly unhappy, but Raymond placed a hand on her lower back and guided her toward the door with whispered reassurances I couldn’t hear.
Not thirty minutes after Giana left, the door burst open as Alpha Marcus and Luna Elena strode in, followed closely by my father. The sudden audience made me instinctively straighten despite the pain.
“Aurora!” Luna Elena rushed to my side. “What happened? Raymond only said there was an accident.”
I saw the warning in Raymond’s eyes. “It was nothing serious,” I smoothly lied. “Just a silly accident. I wasn’t paying attention and walked right into a door.” My father’s skeptical expression made it clear he didn’t believe me, but he remained silent.
Alpha Marcus frowned. “A door caused that much damage?”
“I was running,” 1 elaborated. “Late for a meeting with Raymond. It was entirely my fault.”
My father stepped forward, rigid with disapproval. “This is why I’ve always told you to be careful. Always rushing, never thinking.” He shook his head.
#15 Bonus
“Do you realize this could delay the wedding? Three weeks until the ceremony, and now you’ll have a healing wound on your face.” The concern in his voice wasn’t for my pain but for the inconvenience my injury caused.
Alpha Marcus turned to Raymond. “You will personally attend to Aurora until she recovers. No excuses, no distractions.”
Raymond nodded, the perfect picture of a concerned fiancé. “Of course. I was already planning to.”
Guilt flashed briefly across his features–the first genuine emotion I’d seen from him since this charade began.
True to his word, Raymond was attentive the following day, bringing me flowers and my favorite books from home. He adjusted my pillows, helped me eat, and even read to me when my headache made it difficult to focus on the pages.
Just as I was beginning to enjoy his undivided attention, the door opened to reveal Glana, carrying a small basket of fruit.
“I thought you might like some company,” she announced, her voice sickly sweet. Raymond’s face lit up at her arrival, and just like that, I became invisible again.
This pattern continued for days. Raymond would arrive, attentive and caring, only to shift his focus entirely when Giana joined us minutes later. She insisted on “helping” with my care, though her assistance usually involved hovering too close and making pointed comments about how difficult it must be for Raymond.
On the third day, Giana decided to change my bandage herself.
“I can do it,” I protested as she reached for the tape securing the gauze to my temple.
“Don’t be silly,” she insisted. “I want to help.”
Before I could stop her, she yanked the tape off with unnecessary force. I hissed in pain as it pulled at the tender skin around my stitches,
“Oops,” she said with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s stuck.”
She continued to peel the bandage away roughly, her nails scraping against my wound. I felt something wet trickle down my face. “You’re making it bleed again,” I said through clenched teeth.
