Chapter 5- Accusation

Angela's POV

The sterile scent of antiseptic is the first thing I notice as I slowly blink awake. My head feels heavy, and my arms ache faintly, a dull reminder of what brought me here. The ceiling tiles blur in and out of focus as I piece together my surroundings.

A hospital room.

It comes back to me in fragments: Lyle bringing me here, the urgent conversation about a blood donation, the uncomfortable tug in my veins as I lay still, and finally, darkness.

I sit up slowly, glancing around. The room is quiet, empty except for the machines humming softly beside me. There’s no sign of Lyle, which isn’t surprising. 

My stomach twists involuntarily at the thought, my heart sinking as I imagine where he might be.

With Fiona, no doubt.

A muffled voice outside the door breaks the silence. I tilt my head, the tone vaguely familiar, though I can’t quite place it. 

The voice grows clearer, punctuated by a polite chuckle, and I frown as the door creaks open.

“Angela?”

I blink in disbelief as the man steps into the room, a small, cautious smile on his face. “Michael?”

It’s been years since I last saw him. His hair is shorter now, his jaw more defined, but his warm, familiar expression remains unchanged.

“Long time no see,” he says, his tone casual, as if we’d run into each other at a coffee shop instead of a hospital.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, my voice hoarse.

He shrugs lightly. “I happened to be nearby. When I saw you had no one here, I figured I’d stick around. Someone has to make sure you’re okay.”

His answer surprises me. Michael, the college classmate I haven’t seen in years, now standing in my hospital room like it’s the most natural thing in the world. 

A reluctant smile tugs at my lips, but it quickly fades. “Why are you back in town?”

“My mom,” he says simply, his eyes clouding briefly. “She’s been unwell. I couldn’t stay away any longer. Being the only child comes with its responsibilities.”

I nod, unsure what to say. In college, I knew he always spoke fondly of his mother. Now, hearing the weight in his voice would make my chest tighten.

Before I can respond, the doctor walks in, clipboard in hand. His eyes flicker between Michael and me, and something about his expression shifts. “Mrs. Hartman?” he asks, addressing me.

“Ms. Hartman,” I correct him awkwardly, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“You gave us quite a scare earlier,” he continues. “Between the blood donation and your medical history…” His eyes dart to Michael, and his expression hardens. “You’re her husband?”

“No!” I say quickly, mortified. “We’re just friends.”

The doctor pauses, his eyebrows lifting slightly. “Ah, my apologies. I assumed—well, never mind.” He clears his throat and adjusts his tone. “Regardless, you need to be more careful. Blood donation after a miscarriage and the accompanying stress? It’s no wonder you fainted.”

My face flushes with embarrassment, the weight of his words pressing down on me like a physical force. I glance at Michael, who looks more bewildered than anything.

The doctor, realizing his mistake, quickly moves on. “My apologies for the misunderstanding. Just make sure to rest for a few days, drink plenty of fluids, and avoid any strenuous activity. If you feel dizzy or faint again, come back immediately.”

“Understood,” I say quietly.

He nods, giving Michael a brief, apologetic glance before leaving the room.

The silence that follows feels heavy, almost suffocating. My mind drifts to Lyle, to his absence, and to the sharp, aching loneliness it leaves behind.

“What happened, Angela?” Michael asks gently, his voice cutting through my thoughts.

I hesitate, debating how much to share, but the look in his eyes makes it clear he won’t judge me. “Lyle and I broke up,” I say finally, my voice tight. “It’s complicated.”

Michael frowns, his concern evident. “He just… left you here?”

I shake my head. “It’s not like that. He brought me here, but…” My voice trails off. There’s no point in explaining what I’m not even sure of myself.

Michael’s expression darkens slightly, but he doesn’t press me. Instead, he says, “It's okay, you don't have to say anything if you don't want to.”

I force a smile, though it feels hollow. “Thanks, Michael.”

“Have you thought about what’s next?” he asks, his tone shifting slightly. “I heard you left your job. Seems like a good time for a fresh start.”

The weight of his words settles over me. A fresh start. It sounds nice in theory, but reality feels far more complicated. “I don’t know,” I admit. “I’m just… trying to figure things out.”

Michael hesitates, then leans forward slightly. “You know, my firm’s always looking for talent. You were one of the smartest people in our class, Angela. I’m serious—you’d be a great addition.”

I laugh softly, shaking my head. “I appreciate it, but I’m not sure I’m ready for that yet.”

“Well, the offer stands,” he says with a smile. “No pressure. Just… think about it.”

“Thank you,” I say sincerely. His kindness feels like a lifeline in the sea of chaos my life has become.

He pats my back lightly, his touch reassuring. “Whatever you decide, I’m here to help. Don’t forget that.”

I’m about to respond when a soft knock at the door catches my attention. I glance up, and my heart stutters as Lyle steps inside.

He looks sharp as ever, his suit immaculate, but his expression is anything but composed. His gaze locks onto mine for a split second before it shifts—to Michael’s hand resting on my back.

Lyle’s eyes darken, his jaw tightening visibly.

For a moment, none of us speak. The tension in the room is palpable, crackling like static electricity.

I can feel Michael’s hand tense against my back, his posture straightening slightly.

Lyle's eyes meet mine again, and I see the anger simmering just beneath the surface.

“Angela” he says, his voice cold and clipped. "Who is this man?"