CHAPTER THREE

Amanda's POV

The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was Damien.

For a few seconds, I could not understand where I was. The ceiling above me was white, and a bright light hung somewhere above my head. There was a strange smell around me. Something cold was fixed to my hand, and I could hear the soft beeping of a machine beside the bed. I tried to move, but pain spread through my body immediately.

I shut my eyes again. Then I heard a familiar voice.

"Amanda."

My eyes opened slowly. Damien was sitting beside my bed. He looked tired. His hair was not properly arranged, and there were dark circles beneath his eyes. He stared at me as if he had been waiting for that exact moment.

"Damien?" My voice came out weak. He immediately leaned closer. "You're awake."

I tried to sit up, but a sharp pain travelled through my back and side. I gasped and fell back against the pillow.

"Don't move," he said quickly. "You have injuries."

"What happened to me?"

"You were hit by a vehicle."

The words came slowly to me. I remembered the road. I remembered the pain. I remembered everything going dark.

I swallowed with difficulty. "How long have I been here?" Damien hesitated.

"How long?"

"Four days."

My eyes widened. "Four days?"

He nodded. I stared at him, trying to understand what he had just said. Four days. I had lost four complete days of my life. I had been lying unconscious in this hospital while the world continued without me.

"Who brought me here?"

"I did."

I turned my face toward him. "You?"

"Yes."

For a moment, neither of us spoke. I noticed the way he looked at me. There was relief in his eyes, but there was also anger.

"You scared everyone," he said.

I frowned. "Everyone?"

"You nearly died, Amanda."

His voice became harder. I looked away. "I didn't ask for any of this."

"No, but you caused it."

I slowly turned back to him.

"What?"

"You refused to control yourself. You were emotional, angry, and reckless. You ran into the road without thinking about what you were doing."

His words hurt more than I expected.

"I was deeply hurt, Damien."

"And that gave you the right to throw your life away?"

"I wasn't trying to die."

"Then what were you trying to do?"

I had no answer. Tears gathered in my eyes. I turned my face away from him.

"You don't understand," I whispered. "You don't know how much pain I was in."

Damien became silent. I wiped the tears from my cheek with the little strength I had.

"I was hurt," I continued. "I was angry. I felt betrayed. Everything happened at once, and I didn't know what to do with myself."

He stared at me for a long moment.

"Pain doesn't give you permission to destroy yourself."

"I know."

"Then don't do it again."

I closed my eyes. I did not have the strength to argue with him.

A few minutes later, the door opened, and a doctor walked into the room. He checked my pulse, examined my eyes, and looked at the notes attached to my bed.

"Good morning, Amanda. How are you feeling?"

"Painful."

He smiled slightly. "That is expected. You have been unconscious for four days, and your body suffered some injuries. Fortunately, there are no major complications."

I released a quiet breath.

"Can I go home?"

"By evening, if everything remains stable."

I looked at Damien. The doctor continued, "We will prescribe some medication for pain relief and to help with your recovery. You need enough rest. Avoid stress, heavy activities, and anything that could worsen your injuries."

I nodded.

"Do you understand?"

"Yes, Doctor."

He gave me another brief smile before walking out. The moment he left, I heard footsteps outside the room. I knew that voice before I even saw him.

"Amanda."

My heart stopped. Nathaniel walked into the room.

For a second, I could only stare at him. He looked worried, but the worry quickly changed into relief when he saw that my eyes were open.

"My wife."

He rushed toward me. I wanted to smile. I wanted to be happy to see him. I wanted to throw my arms around him and tell him that I had missed him.

But I couldn't. My heart had changed. Nathaniel bent over me and kissed my forehead. "You scared me."

I remained still.

"I was told four days ago that you were struck by a vehicle," he continued. "They said you were in a coma. I thought I was going to lose you."

His voice cracked. He held my hand tightly.

"I love you, Amanda."

The words should have comforted me. Instead, they hurt.

I looked into his eyes and forced myself to return the affection, but something inside me refused. Damien's voice echoed in my mind. Never let him know.

I had spent four days unconscious, but in those four days, something had happened inside me. I had learned something I could never forget. The truth had wounded me more deeply than the accident. Nathaniel kissed my hand.

"I missed you so much."

"I do," I hesitantly whispered

It was a lie. Or perhaps it was only half a lie. I missed the man I thought he was. I did not know this man anymore.

Nathaniel sat beside me for a while, holding my hand and telling me how frightened he had been. He kept looking at me as if he wanted to make sure I was real.

I watched him quietly. He did not know. He did not know what Damien had told me. He did not know what had seen. And I could not tell him.

By evening, the hospital staff completed my discharge process. Damien helped me gather my things while Nathaniel remained close to me. My body still hurt, but I was strong enough to walk slowly with assistance.

When we finally stepped outside the hospital, the evening air touched my face.

I stopped. For the first time in four days, I was outside.

Damien opened the car door for me. I got inside, and Nathaniel stood there for a moment before leaving to handle something.

“Amanda,” he called out. “I leave now for the office. I have a lot of things to attend to.”

I nodded, not out of consent but contempt. He bolted into his car and drove off. I don't want him to come near me again.

Damien entered the driver's seat and started the engine. The journey was quiet. I stared through the window.

The city moved around us. Cars passed. People walked along the streets. Restaurants were filled with people laughing and talking as if nothing had happened.

Then something inside me snapped.

"Stop the car."

Damien looked at me through the mirror.

"What?"

"Stop the car."

He pulled over. I looked at him.

"I want wine."

His eyebrows tightened.

"What?"

"Alcoholic wine."

He stared at me as if I had suddenly spoken another language.

"I want to drink."

"Amanda, you just left the hospital."

"I know."

"You've been unconscious for four days."

"I know."

"You are still injured."

"I know!"

My voice came out louder than I intended. I looked toward the road and then back at him.

"Just take me to a restaurant. I want to sit down and drink."

Damien did not answer. Something about his silence frightened me. He slowly turned his head toward me. His expression had completely changed.

"Amanda," he said quietly, "are you sure you know what you're asking me to do?"

I stared at him. He looked at me for another long second, then reached for the gear.

But instead of driving toward the nearest restaurant, he did something that made my heart begin to pound. He turned the car in the opposite direction.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

Damien said nothing. I watched him closely.

"Damien?"

He said nothing. His hands tightened around the steering wheel and suddenly, I realized that my request had awakened something in him that I had never seen before.

Something dangerous. Something he was trying desperately to hide. I swallowed.

"Where are you taking me?"

He finally looked at me. His eyes were cold. And then he said the words that made me wish I had never asked for that wine.

"Somewhere we can talk about why you suddenly want to drink."

My heart sank. I knew then that the night was far from over.