Chapter 4 ~`Apologize

“Dahlia, eat more vegetables, dear. You’re still sick.” Anna Scott, Silas’s mother, said, gently making Dahlia’s heart warm at the gesture. 

During the three years of her marriage to Silas, Anna was never really warm towards her; she wasn’t hostile either, it was just that she preferred Joyce because she saved her life once. But seeing how gentle she was towards her made Dahlia smile. 

“Thank you.” She whispered, but Mrs Scott only shook her head. 

“Don’t thank me, Dahlia. This is what mothers do for their children. Now eat, then we can catch some sun together.” Mrs. Scott said while sitting beside her, gently placing more food into her bowl. 

Across the table, Mr. Scott’s expression was dark, and he wasn’t in the mood to eat. Unable to hold it in any longer, he set aside the spoon with a sharp clack.

After what had happened reached them, they came over for lunch so they could check in on Dahlia. Mr. Scott was a scary man, just like his son. They both had a ruthless reputation because they only smiled and softened around the family. 

“So,” he said coldly, his brown eyes fixed on Silas, “I hear you happen to be husband of the year.”

“Owen,” Mrs Scott jumped in, but he shook his head, his eyes still fixed on Silas. 

“No, honey, let our son explain to us why he left his wife in a car on a mountain road all night!” Mr Scott responded, his voice cold and displeased. 

Silas stiffened his eyes, flashing with guilt as he searched for a response. “Dad, I—”

“In this family,” Mr. Scott interrupted, his voice rising, “a man puts his wife first. Always. If you can’t even protect her safety, what kind of husband are you? Have you ever seen me neglect your mother even for a second? Even if the company was burning to ashes and your mother needed me back home, I would run to her like my life depended on it!” 

Mrs Scott blushed at her husband’s words, but everyone at the table knew he meant every word. Everyone knew how much the two adored each other. Nothing came first except family for them. 

Dahlia lowered her gaze, her fingers tightening around her spoon as a warm feeling spread quietly through her chest. In all these years, Mr. Scott had never once treated her unfairly. He had seen her as Silas’s wife, and his daughter, and always stood up for her no matter what. 

Silas stood abruptly. “I was wrong,” he said, bowing his head slightly. “I admit it. And Dahlia knows how sorry I am. I’ll do better, I promise.” He said as he quickly reached out, taking a serving spoon and placing more food into Dahlia’s bowl himself. 

“Here, babe,” He smiled, “Have more of this, it’s your favourite.” 

For a fleeting moment, Dahlia felt something loosen inside her. It was almost like they were a happy family, and each one showed immense care for her. She couldn’t help but smile at the look on Silas’s face as he panicked, trying to please her. 

Just as the tension eased and conversation turned to current events, a soft voice that was almost forgotten spoke up.

“Dahlia.” Joyce stood up while biting her bottom lip and looking like a wet cat.

Her eyes were red, and her voice was soft as she stood while wringing her hands, 

“About what happened the other day… It was all my fault. If my body wasn’t so weak, Silas wouldn’t have insisted on my going to the hot spring, and you wouldn’t have suffered. I’m really sorry.”

The room quieted at that, and everyone’s eyes fell on Joyce. 

Dahlia had suffered so much at the hands of Joyce to know she was incapable of a real apology. But she didn’t want to ruin the perfect lunch, so she simply smiled and mumbled, 

“It’s fine. Joyce.”

Joyce then picked up a bowl of soup and walked towards Dahlia. “Do you really forgive me?” she said earnestly. “ Then drink this. Just… just to let me know you don’t hate me and you’ve really forgiven me.”

Dahlia frowned slightly at the sight of the bowl of soup she was holding. Dahlia had avoided it in the first place because it had mangoes in it, and she was allergic to mangoes. But Joyce knew that and just wanted to provoke her,  

“There’s no need—”

But Joyce had already stepped closer, bypassing the table, walking straight toward her. The bowl was pressed into Dahlia’s hands before she could refuse.

Dahlia was still trying to avoid contact with the bow when Joyce suddenly cried out as the bow crashed to the floor, burning Dahlia’s foot in the process.

“Ah!”

The soup had barely spilled on her wrist, but she recoiled as if she had been burned badly, her eyes filled with tears as she cried out. “I’m sorry! I’m so clumsy… Dahlia, please don’t be angry. If this helps you vent your anger, I can endure it. You can do whatever you want to me.”

Dahlia, who was burned and in more pain, wasn't even shocked hearing those words. 

That was a game Joyce played, and the Scotts fell for it like fools every time. Just as she anticipated, the room exploded into chaos.

“Joyce!” Silas rushed forward, grabbing her hand like it was a delicate doll. “Are you hurt?”

“Let me grab some towels!” Mrs Scott rushed and quickly returned with cold towels that they wrapped around her barely burnt hand, and helped her to a chair like she had suddenly lost her ability to walk and see. 

Silas then turned sharply toward Dahlia, anger blazing in his eyes. “Did you do this on purpose?”

“And just when I was warming up to you!” Mrs Scott spat, “You’re really wicked at heart!”

“I don’t think it’s fair for you to start calling her names when we all don’t know what really happened.” Mr. Scott said, but his wife only scoffed at that.

“Just accept it, Owen, and stop defending her before she gets worse! We all heard poor Joyce blaming herself for what happened and asking for forgiveness. Dahlia needs to apologize and leave us so she can think about what she has done!” Mrs Scott spat angrily.

“Apologize?” Dahlia repeated, unable to believe this was happening.

She looked down at her foot and laughed. She was the one burnt and was in excruciating pain, and yet it was her they wanted to hear an apology from?

Silas’s jaw tightened as he turned to her, “You find this funny?”

“It’s all my fault. I’ve ruined the peace we had all created. Please don’t make Dahlia apologize. If hurting me makes her feel better, then I don’t mind.” Joyce said pitifully. 

Silas’s eyes hardened instantly. “You see?” he snapped. “She’s still making excuses for you. And you’re standing there pretending to be innocent. Why can’t you just be nice for once?”

Dahlia slowly rose from her seat. She stood straight despite the pain, her posture composed, because she refused to be walked all over again, 

“I tried to refuse the soup because it had mangoes in it,” she said. “But Joyce walked to me and forced the bowl into my hands. How is that my fault?”

Mrs. Scott scoffed. “Enough! Joyce is already apologizing and taking the blame. What more do you want from her? Blood?”

Dahlia turned to her mother-in-law, the warmth she had felt earlier evaporating completely. “I want fairness,” she replied. “But I see now that was too much to ask.”

Mr. Scott frowned deeply. “Anna..”

“No,” Mrs. Scott cut him off sharply. “I’ve seen enough. Joyce has always been kind and considerate. She even blamed herself just now. And look at Dahlia’s face. Not a shred of remorse.”

Silas stepped forward, his voice low and cold. “Apologize to Joyce.”

Dahlia stared at him.

“I won’t,” she said.

The room went deathly quiet. Not even a breath could be heard.

Silas’s eyes widened slightly, unable to believe that his once very obedient wife, who worshipped the ground he walked on, could defile him. “What did you say?”

“I said I won’t apologize,” Dahlia repeated, her voice hard despite the emotions swimming in her chest, “Because I did nothing wrong.”

Mrs. Scott slammed her hand on the table. “Then leave! If you can’t even admit your mistakes, go back to your room and reflect on your behavior!”

“Fine,” Dahlia said with a smile and stood. She ignored the sting in her foot as she walked away.

Silas hesitated when he watched her and was about to run to her,

 “Dahlia—”

But before he could walk away, Joyce held onto his arm, “Silas, can you please help me walk to my room too? I think I’ve twisted my ankle.”