CHAPTER SIX

 

LILIAN

I tried to pull away from him, but Alex kept me close, his eyes fixed on me. Was he leaning in for a kiss? My heart hammered against my ribs, and even with my eyes closed, I could feel his gaze burning into me.

Then he suddenly pulled away, and his smirk made my eyes snap open. “What are you doing?” he asked. 

“Huh?” I blinked, still confused.

“You asked me to stay like this for a moment,” I reminded him, looking down at my lap. His lips curved into an amused smile. “Look outside.”

I turned toward the passenger window, but nothing looked unusual. I raised an eyebrow, wondering what game he was playing.

“They've left that spot,” he said, nodding toward the front windshield.

I turned my head and saw several students gathered outside, laughing with their phones raised. They were taking pictures of us. That was why Alex had pulled me closer.

“Alex, that wasn't necessary,” I muttered, sinking lower in my seat.

He glanced at me, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Are you tired of faking a date with the hockey captain of Williams Club?”

“I never said so,” I quickly replied.

“Shh.” He pressed his thumb lightly against my lips, silencing me.

The simple touch sent an unexpected shiver through me, and I immediately looked away.

“Let me drive you to the school hospital,” I said. “They should clean that cut and disinfect it.”

As I drove, I found myself getting distracted. My eyes kept drifting toward him, taking in his sharp features, messy hair, and the thin trail of blood near his eyebrow.

Oh God.

“Focus on the road, Lilian,” Alex said.

I looked at him and realised he'd caught me staring.

“I know I'm a fine man, but if you keep looking at me like that...” His grin widened as he turned toward me.

“I'm just checking if you're all right,” I interrupted quickly.

“Huh?” he asked, clearly enjoying my embarrassment.

“I mean, it's normal to care about an injured person,” I added, keeping my eyes firmly on the road.

He chuckled but didn't say anything else.

I pulled into the hospital parking lot and stopped the car. After stepping out, I barely had time to close the door before Alex came around the vehicle and held out his hand.

“Let's hold hands.”

I stared at his hand for a second before placing mine in his. His fingers closed around mine as we walked toward the hospital entrance.

Then his eyes dropped to our joined hands.

“Why do your hands have these scars?” he asked.

I looked down at them before meeting his eyes again. “If I remember correctly, I told you I don't remember how my scars came about, didn't I?”

“Oh, that's true,” he replied. “I have a bad memory  myself.”

We continued toward the entrance, his thumb occasionally brushing against the back of my hand.

Minutes later, the nurse returned with a reassuring smile. “Your boyfriend’s wound isn’t serious,” she said. “We cleaned it thoroughly, applied an antiseptic, and dressed it. He’ll just need to keep the area clean and dry while it heals.”

“My boyfriend?” I repeated, blinking.

“I thought he was,” the nurse said, glancing between us.

“Of course he is,” I quickly replied, forcing a smile. “We’re dating.”

Alex turned his head toward me, a slow grin spreading across his face.

The nurse smiled. “Well, then, make sure he follows the instructions.”

“I will,” I muttered, avoiding Alex’s amused gaze.

He disappeared back inside while I sank into one of the reception chairs, pulling out my phone. I opened the class group chat, and my stomach dropped.

“Shit.”

The pictures were already there.

I scrolled through them with growing horror until another picture loaded.

“Oh my God.”

My top had ridden up slightly, exposing one of the scars on my back.

I quickly locked my phone and pressed it against my thigh, wishing I could somehow erase the image from everyone's phones.

I checked the time.

It was a few minutes to four.

Alex eventually walked out with the nurse, a white customized nylon bag dangling from his left hand.

“They gave you medicine?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“What did they give you?”

“Ibuprofen.” He shrugged. “I'm not really the medicine type of person.”

“Why not?”

Before he could answer, his phone rang.

His expression changed the moment he looked at the screen.

“I have to take this,” he said.

He walked toward the car, and I followed a few steps behind, keeping enough distance to make it clear I wasn't trying to listen.

But my hearing had always been unusually sharp.

Even with his voice lowered, I caught every word.

“Alex, you need to maintain your position as hockey captain,” a man said through the phone. “Mr. Williams has already settled half of her hospital bill.”

Alex stopped beside the car.

“How is she now?”

“The dialysis is quite expensive, and her blood pressure is still high,” the man replied, his voice heavy with concern.

I slowed to a stop.

Who was that woman?

And why had my adopted father paid half of her hospital bill?

Was it because Alex was the hockey captain of his organisation?

I shook the thought away.

Whatever the call was about, it had nothing to do with me.

Alex turned and noticed me standing there.

“I have an emergency,” he said quietly.

I opened my mouth to ask if it was about the call, but closed it again.

“I would've loved to drive you home,” he continued, his earlier playful tone completely gone, “but I'm sorry. And thank you for helping me today.”

“It’s okay. I'll book a cab home.”

He gave me a grateful nod before getting into the car and driving away.

I sighed and pulled out my phone to book a ride.

Then the screen went black.

Dead.

“Fuck,” I growled, pressing a hand against my neck.

What was I going to do now?

I glanced toward the road before sighing.

“Maybe walking isn't so bad,” I muttered. “It could help me lose a few pounds.”

Forty-five minutes later, I finally reached home.

Somewhere along the way, a man had offered me a ride. He refused to tell me his name, and I didn't bother asking twice.

“Thank you,” I said as I stepped out of the car.

He simply nodded.

Something about his expression unsettled me.

His eyes remained fixed on the Williams mansion, lingering on it for several seconds before he finally looked back at me.

I frowned.

Maybe I was overthinking it.

I hurried inside, relieved to find the sitting room empty.

Only the maids were around.

I went into the kitchen, grabbed something to eat, and settled onto the couch afterwards, finally allowing myself to relax.

Not long after, the front door opened.

Fiona walked in with my parents, carrying several bags.

Judging by the bags and Fiona's excited expression, they'd probably gone shopping after picking her up from school.

“Lilian?” Mrs Williams called from the doorway.

I looked up.

“Come and take these groceries.”

I stood reluctantly.

“At least move that fat body of yours,” she added. “You might lose a few pounds while you're at it.”

I took the grocery bags from her hands and carried them into the kitchen.

“Mother. Father.”

Fiona's cheerful voice followed me inside.

“Talk to us, sweetheart,” my parents replied almost immediately.

“I really like Lilian's room,” she said.

I froze.

“The colour is beautiful, and I love the design.”

I dropped the grocery bags onto the counter and hurried toward the sitting room.

“I think Lilian should use one of the guest rooms instead,” Fiona said sweetly. “Then I can move into her room.”

My steps slowed.

“But, of course, I'll need new bed linens.”

“Sweetheart, we'll do that tomorrow,” my mother promised.

Fiona pouted.

“I really want to move in tonight.”

I stood at the edge of the room, staring at them.

My father finally noticed me.

His expression hardened.

“You heard her,” Mr Williams snapped. “Get your things and move into the guest room tonight.”