Six

“Ugh.” Rose’s head hurt so much that she would have thought she was hungover from too much alcohol if she didn’t have a massive life crisis going on. “Damn it.” This time the groan was louder, it made her stomach rumble. With squinted eyes and scrunched lips, she rushed out of bed and rattled the knob of a closeby door. 

Glad that the door led to a bathroom, she dramatically slid towards the water closet and released the vomit that had been threatening to ruin her throat.

“Ugh. God,” she groaned harder when she peeked at the vomit. It was a result of inadequate feeding over the past few days. Once she threw everything up, her stomach became very empty, and it ached to be fed. But all the throwing up made her weak, she only managed to crawl to the bedroom. 

Once at the feet of the bed, she lay down and stared at the bluish ceiling. Then, the tears came back. Silently, they streamed down her face and blurred her sight so much that she did not notice when someone entered the room and stared down at her.

“What are you doing?” Unmistakably, that was the stranger speaking.

She wiped her tears as though that would stop them and paid attention to the man peering at her with his mystical eyes. 

“What does it look like?” Her voice was still feeble. Rose hated that because it reminded her of how Richard broke her. 

“I doubt crying is a pastime hobby for you.” He exhaled and moved to the edge of the bed. Once seated, he briefly closed his eyes and said, “You are a mess, Rose.”

Annoyed by his art of stating the obvious, she retorted, “How on earth do you know my name? Are you a stalker? Who exactly are you?”

“Are you always so rash in your thinking, Rose?” His calmness humbled her outburst. “That is disappointing.” He looked away from her. “Listen, you need to rest more. Let us talk later.”

“No.” She sat up fast. “I should leave. Thank you for your help so far.”

“Leave?” He was more amused than annoyed. “In this deplorable state? Where do you intend to go? Did you build a life elsewhere that your husband is not aware of? Where do you want to go? Tell me, Rose.”

Despite the softness in his voice, his words insulted her. With gritted teeth, fury settled in her eyes while bitterness bloated her throat. 

“That is …. That is none of your business. I will sort out my life as I please.” She stood up after gaining a little strength. “You are a stranger. Nothing else. I appreciate your help, but you don’t get to use that as an opportunity to control me.”

“Control?” He got up as well. For the first time since he stepped into the room, he showed an emotion different from calmness. “You think I am trying to control your life?”

She nodded while struggling to tear her eyes off his lips. “What else is it? Huh?” Rose argued. “Why else would a man I barely know help me? Mister Man, I refuse to be controlled. Do not hold me back.”

“You are very foolish, Rose.” 

“What? How dare you insult me?”

“You insulted me first,” he returned. 

Rose noticed that despite his hurled words, he was not displaying visible anger. It was weird. “How did I do that?”

“You mocked my intentions, Rose. I am here because you are the one I am meant to love, nothing else.”

“Huh?” Her mind frowned at his statement. “What the heck is that supposed to mean? Love?” That word annoyed her. “Love me? Are you high?”

“Haven’t you felt something since we met?”

‘Oh,’ Rose inwardly exclaimed. She could not deny that she didn’t feel something. She felt a lot that could not be explained. 

“When  we kissed,” he stepped closer, his scent tickling her nose to its delight, “did you feel nothing, Rose?”

“Huh…” She still could not look him in the eyes. He would be able to tell what was on her mind because her eyes could never tell a lie. 

“Tell me, Rose. Tell me you didn’t feel a thing, and I will let you leave right now.” The man’s eyes narrowed with slight agony as if saying it would be hard for him to watch her leave that place. 

But Rose was determined not to fall for another Richard scam. Sure, with that man, she felt things that made her believe she could be genuinely happy and at peace. But what if all those were illusions? What if she was trying to lie to herself by thinking that the presence of the man was supposed to heal her pains?

“I did not feel a thing,” she almost choked while saying that.

“What?” Disbelief filled his low voice. 

“I did not feel a thing. Even when we kissed.”

“Look at me when you are speaking, Rose.”

She shook her head and continued to look at the bedside drawer in her sight. “I cannot leave my life in another man’s hands. I refuse to do it.” Her legs began to move backwards. “Once again, thank you for everything. I owe you a lot.” She finally got the strength to turn. “Do not follow me. As you said, you will let me leave.” Her eyes pinched close for a second because her soul felt hesitant. But she pushed the emotion away seconds later and walked out of the room, her bare feet feeling the surrounding chilliness she didn’t notice earlier. 

As she moved, she noticed that she was in an interesting house that combined modern and rustic architecture in a way that made her want to sit down and stare. However, with no time to spare, she walked past the giant paintings in the large corridor and desperately searched for the front door. 

She moved from here to there for many minutes but failed to find the exit. She was almost screaming in frustration when someone appeared in front of her. With his lengthy and shiny black hair resting on his shoulders, the casually dressed man had a physique smaller than her helper, but it was impressive either way. For a brief second, she acknowledged how good he looked in his sweatpants.

“Who are you?” a soft tone demanded as he lifted a tray from the table close to him. “Wait?” His eyes became rabid. “Are you a thief? How on earth did you enter this place?”

Rose found it weird that he was not looking at her, but since the question was clearly directed at her, her hands waved as she replied, “Wh-what? No! Of course not. I-”

“Symon, down,” the man she walked away from entered the scene, his hands pocketed, his eyes fixed on her. 

“But-”

“Down.”

“I—” Rose tried to explain why she was still in the house. He cut her short with an embrace. She melted into his chest. With relaxed shoulders and a face that displayed how much peace she felt from that action, every part of her relished his hug, her soul included. 

In reaction, the man called Symon gasped, and the tray in his hand fell. But that was not the only reaction to the embrace. 

“I fucking knew it!” a voice hollered from behind, and Rose shook, she almost fainted if not for the man hugging her. “You two have been meeting up, haven’t you? So much for a fucking virgin wife! Fuck you two!” 

A loud shatter followed, and Rose screamed in fear of Richard’s anger. If the man holding her didn’t immediately lift her into his arms, she would have hid behind him. 

Richard picked up a fragment of the vase he broke. “She is mine, you fucking prick!” he screamed, his hand bleeding as he pressed the broken piece into his palm. “Rose is mine!”  With increased anger, his body lunged at them, his weapon directed at Rose while the thirst for someone’s blood raged in his eyes.