6. Drama Queen?... What a joke!

ELOISE

He was resting against the wall, attired in the hospital gown. He looked relaxed, almost careless.

For a moment, neither of us spoke, until…

"Well, well, look who's here." he said at last, pushing himself off the wall and straightening. “That was expected.”

His lips curved into a slow, familiar smile, one that used to warm my heart even just forty-two hours earlier. But now, only disgust crawled beneath my skin.

“You look…” he paused briefly, as though searching for the right word, “…worse than usual.”

I didn't react immediately and let the silence stretch between us. It didn't feel uncomfortable; if anything, it felt strangely distant to me.

“So, this is what it comes down to?” he continued. His expression settled into that confident, almost amused look I knew too well.

“You stormed out, made a scene, threw divorce papers at me… and then you came running back here?”

He chuckled slowly, “Oh Eloise, the forever drama queen.” He made no effort to conceal the underlying sarcasm.

And yet, unlike before, it did not sting at all.

Drama Queen? And I? Yeah, what a joke. Guess he needs his brain repaired at this point and see for real who's the true drama queen.

I doubt if he would ever see the truth anyway.

The corner of my lips twitched faintly.

“Sorry to disappoint, Mr. Santos, but you're mistaken this time.” My words were calm, steady, and free of the urgency that used to define every conversation I had.

"Besides, not everything always revolves around you.”

Something flickered in his expression—shock? Regret? I couldn't grasp it as it disappeared so quickly.

“Am I?” His eyes narrowed at me.

Then a low chuckle echoed through the empty hall.

“Don't embarrass yourself, Eloise.” His tone sharpened just enough to reveal the irritation.

“You returned here in the middle of the night, looking like this…”

His hand gestured briefly toward me, as though dismissing my appearance. “And claiming you don't regret it?”

“Who exactly are you trying to fool Eloise?”

I gazed at him, realizing how cruel he seemed when the fuzzy fog of blinded love wasn't there anymore.

Not once had he asked if I was hurt. Not once had he wondered what had happened to me.

The only thing he saw was… himself.

I wanted to laugh out loud at my foolishness, and wondered how I ever fell for such a selfish moron.

“I'm not fooling anyone.” My tone, however, remained calm.

And honestly, I didn't even feel the slightest need to explain anything to this worthless guy.

He let out a soft laugh, though there was no humor in it.

“Yeah, of course.” His lips twisted to a cold, mocking sneer.

“You know what? I'll let you believe it for a moment. How about that?” He tilted his head, eyes filled with knowing remarks.

“And when you're done pretending to be independent, and reality hits, crawl back to the cocoon that suits you best.” His tone hardened at the last part. “And stop wasting all our time.”

His gaze hardened as he spoke, the amusement fading into something colder.

“You don’t survive without me, Eloise. You never have.”

There it was… That certainty.

That unwavering belief that I would always return, no matter what happened.

For five years, I had given him every reason to believe it.

But standing here now, hearing those words again, I realized something that should have been obvious long ago…

He was not speaking about me. He was speaking about the version of me he had grown used to controlling.

And to his disappointment, that version no longer existed. He murdered it with his own hands.

“Well, that's never gonna be the case anymore.”

The simplicity of my tone seemed to catch him off guard more than the words themselves.

I did not wait for more of his reaction. I'm done with this man.

I turned when…

“Damien…?”

A soft, breathless voice cut through the air.

The familiar tone halted my steps immediately, even though I had never meant to.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you…” Selene approached from the far end of the corridor, with hurried steps. Her expression was filled with worry.

However, she stilled the second her gaze fell on me. Widened.

“…Eloise!?”

Her eyes drifted back to Damien before coming to me again. Immediately, her eyes dropped, fingers clenched tightly at her side.

“I… I guess I came at the wrong time…” Her words trembled.

I almost laughed at her pathetic acting. Since childhood I've been used to it even though others find it simply adorable, to me it's pretty disgusting.

“Oh come on, Selene, you always arrive at the wrong time, don't you?”

She froze. Her gaze looked up at me, eyes brimming with tears.

Fake.

“Eloise, that’s not true, I…”

“Yeah, whatever.” I cut her off and boringly glanced at the wall clock.

I've wasted enough time on this pathetic shits.

My gaze calmly lay on Damien. "Don't forget to show up in court on the given date and time.”

A gasp tore through Selene, eyes widened.

Well, I didn't wait anymore for her acting and turned around, walking away…

“N-no, Eloise…!” Selene’s words trailed off as I left…

******

The washroom was empty when I entered. For the first time since the accident, I finally had a moment to breathe.

I turned on the tap, letting cold water run over my hands before splashing my face. The chill grounded me, pulling my thoughts back into something manageable.

After adjusting myself, I stepped out.

The corridor had completely changed.

What had been empty moments ago was now filled with men dressed in black—suits, shirts, pants. All of them bulky, their expressions blank, almost robotic.

I slowed, confusion creeping in.

Who are these men?

One of them stepped forward as I approached.

“This area is restricted,” he said. “You can’t enter.”

I stopped, glancing past him at the emergency ward doors.

Wasn’t I told to wait there earlier?

“What’s going on?” I asked.

He barely looked at me. “Please leave.”

I blinked. That’s it?

After a brief pause, I exhaled. “Alright…”

Maybe I wasn’t needed anymore. If the police wanted my statement, they could call later. The hospital had my number.

Without another word, I turned and left, taking the lift downstairs.

As I stepped out through the hospital entrance into the damp night, a quiet sense of closure settled over me.

“Finally… I can go home.”

I had barely taken two steps when a voice called out—

“Ma’am, please wait.”

I stopped, frowning slightly as I turned toward the security guard.

“What is it now?” I asked, unable to hide the irritation in my voice.

“Ma’am, you’ve been asked to stay.”

“…What?” I asked, irritation creeping into my voice. “Unless there’s been a sudden change?”

“They’ve asked for you to wait,” he replied, brows slightly furrowed, as if this inconvenienced him too. “Please stand aside. Someone will escort you.”

I almost argued, but stopped myself and moved to the side.

So it wasn’t over after all.

A few seconds passed. Just as my patience began to wear thin, a man in a black suit approached.

As he drew closer, recognition hit me.

It was the same man who had sent me away.

“Miss Ricardo,” he said, his tone now polite—though still far from warm. “You’re requested to return to the private emergency ward.”

Requested, now?

My brow lifted. “What for?”

“Please come with me, ma’am. You’re needed.”

I almost snapped, but swallowed it down, releasing a slow breath instead.

“Fine.”

I followed him back.

The atmosphere hadn’t changed—still tense, bodyguards stationed near the lobby.

But now, a man stood by the emergency doors with a doctor.

At the sound of our footsteps, both turned toward us.

He stood out immediately. Impeccably dressed, posture straight, hair slicked back—his presence effortlessly outranking everyone else in the room.

“Miss Ricardo.” A smile appeared on his face, practiced and smooth, never quite reaching his eyes.

“Yes?” I replied, impatience slipping through. “What is this about?”

He studied me briefly, then reached into his suit and pulled something out.

A paper.

He stepped forward and held it out.

I frowned slightly as I took it—

“You showed kindness to our boss when he needed it,” he said. “On his behalf, we’d like to offer a token of appreciation.”

I blinked, looking down.

A check.

And then I saw the number.

One million dollars.