04

Fabiola. 

I forced my weak eyelids open to find a doctor, sitting before me with a smile. 

“She’s fine, it was a panic attack,” he announced and I could see Sarah exhale. 

I looked at my husband who was still in the spot I remember he was before I passed out. He was there, at least and his expression wasn’t that of boredom anymore but he didn’t look any different from Ice either. 

I held my head, sitting up, my eyes scanned the surroundings. The man with the tattoo was gone. Tobias tsked as he approached me, forcing Sarah and the doctor to step away. 

“She lives,” he stopped right next to the couch I lay on, and I blinked my heavy lashes at him. “You’re seriously going to die even before it’s even time, that’s unfortunate.”

His hands that were clasped behind his back found their way into his sweatpants pocket as he strolled away. 

I wanted to break into tears. When did my life get so ruined? I couldn’t remember the last time I had flashbacks from my parents’ death and this chose to happen now when I have an ice prince to seduce. 

I needed time to cry, to cry hard. 

After the doctor's questions and advice, Sarah helped me to my room, although I assured her that I was fine. Sincerely, I was moved by her concern. It’s been a while since someone cared this much about me. 

When I was certain I was alone in my room, I searched for my sketchbook haphazardly, scattering through the sketches I drew when I was close to dying of pain. I found it. This, this was it. It was the exact tattoo. 

Who was that man and why would he kill my parents? 

I shook my head to stop myself from thinking too much, many people can have similar tattoos but my mind still didn’t cooperate. 

*****

It appeared like Tobias was on a break from his training session because he was still home the next day. He was alone at the dining table when I joined him. 

He lifted his brown eyes to me and returned them to his meal almost immediately. 

What was he eating? I don’t want that. 

I eyed him and his food while thinking of his tattooed friend. 

“Wow, that’s a very seductive look,” he said, eyes still on his meal. “I’m so hard,” he pinned his gaze on me. 

I wasn’t his first contracted wife, I wasn’t. He knows everything his mother has been plotting behind his back. Which makes the impossible even more impossible.

“Are you not into women?” The question rolled out of my lips impatiently. 

His eyes narrowed and I looked away, scared. 

“And you consider yourself a woman?”

Was he trying to be insulting? I looked down at my chest where my breasts were evidently resting. 

“Yes.” I returned my eyes to him. I felt the strong urge to defend myself. He didn’t respond, his upper lip curled while he stared. 

“You don’t consider me a woman?” My eyes darted from his not-so-good-looking meal to him. “Why didn’t you marry a woman of your choice? The ones you consider women?” I struggled to break his silence. 

He shoved the dark colored soup into his mouth using a spoon, eyes on me. 

“I don’t have one.”

“You don’t like women?” I don’t know where I found the guts to repeat my question but I did.

“Yes,” he watched me waiting for me to freak out but I didn’t. 

“You could have just related that to your parents, they might understand, just that men can’t bear children. They want a successor, don’t they?”

He kissed his teeth at my last statement, perturbed. 

Sarah arrived with my own dinner, trying to keep a straight face, but I could tell she was surprised that we were having a conversation. 

I smiled at my dish of pasta, it was nothing like what he was having. 

“Eric said you used to have those since your parents died?” His eyes returned to his meal. 

Eric was the doctor I guess. Was the ice prince concerned about me? 

“Yes, haven’t had them in a while, they were triggered by…..

I stopped as my eyes widened in realization. I watched him to see if he could grasp anything from what I just said. His eyes on me weren’t uninterested, as usual, they were dancing with amusement. 

God, Aunty Cathy and Uncle Robert were meant to be my parents and they were healthy, alive, not dead. 

No one prepared me for this, no one. 

I swallowed hard. “I mean….my aunt and uncle, they… were close… so close to me.”

He watched me patiently as I stammered helplessly, unable to meet his eyes. He just rose to his feet with a scoff, walking away, leaving an empty bowl of whatever that was. 

What did I just do? Was he going to tell on us? Was Mrs Hawkeye going to kill me?