Hospital

My stomach turned

"Mrs?"

I stood there for a long moment, staring at the black box like it might explode if I touched it, then I did, I took it, and it and got inside and collapsed on my bed, I had definitely had it today.

My name sat on the tag in neat, deliberate print "Mrs. Elara Blackwood", the name was a lie, everything from this point onward was. I sighed, fingers brushing the edge before lifting the lid.

Inside was velvet.

Deep, rich red, folded with precision, the fabric smooth against my pale skin, light, A gown, not just beautiful, intentional, the gold specs almost illuminating the whole room, it was my size, I wasn't surprised at this point, it would hug every curve in my body, The kind of dress you didn’t wear to blend in. The kind that announced you before you spoke

I exhaled shakily and closed the box.

The gown felt heavier than it should have, like it carried expectations stitched into every seam. I pushed it aside and grabbed my jacket instead. If I stayed here any longer, I’d start imagining myself already owned.

Adrian Blackwood

This was his work, of course it was. I almost scoffed at my luck, I was desperate, yes, but I had put myself in deeper shit, I was trapped, I couldn't just walk away from all this, He had set his sights on me, and I knew he wouldn't let me go free

---

The morning sky looked like a blank canva painted with hues of blues and oranges.

The hospital was only fifteen minutes away, but the ride felt longer. My thoughts kept circling back to the box, the letter, and the way my name looked paired with his, I had to admit, it did look good, I almost smiled.

No

I can't let my attraction get the better of me right now, I scolded myself, of course he was hot, but he trapped me, yes he did, I comforted myself.

The antiseptic smell hit me the moment I stepped inside.

The hospital always smelled the same antiseptic and something faintly metallic, like fear scrubbed too hard and never fully removed.

I signed in at the front desk with hands that felt steadier than I deserved, then followed the familiar hallway to Room 214. My steps slowed as I got closer, dread curling softly around my ribs. No matter how many times I came here, the sight of that door never stopped feeling like a warning.

I knocked lightly before pushing it open.

“Aunt?”

She was awake. Propped up against the pillows, thin shoulders swallowed by white sheets that looked too big for her now. The TV murmured in the background, some daytime talk show she wasn’t really watching.

Her face lit up when she saw me.

“Elera,” she said, smiling. “You came early today.”

“I had time,” I lied easily, walking over to her bedside. I leaned down and kissed her forehead, careful the way I always was, like she might break if I wasn’t gentle enough.

She smelled like lavender soap and hospital air.

“You look tired,” she added, eyes sharp despite everything.

I laughed softly. “You always say that.”

“Because it’s always true.”

I pulled the chair closer and sat, reaching for her hand. It felt smaller than I remembered, bones more pronounced. I hated myself for noticing.

“How are you feeling?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Same aches. Less pain this morning, though.”

That made me pause.

“Less?” I repeated, she never felt less pain

She nodded. “The nurse said they adjusted my medication.”

My stomach tightened.

Right on cue, the door opened and a nurse stepped in, flipping through a chart. She smiled at me politely.

“Good morning, Elera”

“Hello Nurse Nina” I said quickly, I had come here so often I might as well be part of the hospital staff, all the nurses knew me, and I knew almost all the staff, cleaners too, from sleepless nights I spent here, and some days I couldn't leave her side.

“Your Aunt responded well overnight,” Nina continued. “Vitals are stable, and" she glanced down at the chart and smiled “the outstanding balance on her account has been cleared, so we’ll proceed with the next phase of treatment without delay.”

The words landed wrong. Too smooth, at the cost of my freedom.

Cleared.

My fingers curled tighter around the chair arm.

“That’s… good,” I managed.

The nurse nodded again and left as quietly as she’d come.

Silence rushed in to fill the space.

Aunt Claire turned her head slightly, studying my face.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing,” I said too fast. “I’m just… relieved.”

She hummed thoughtfully. “You look lighter today.”

I froze.

“Lighter?” I echoed.

“Yes.” Her thumb brushed my knuckles gently. “Like someone helped you carry the weight.”

My throat closed.

I looked away before she could read my face properly, staring instead at the heart monitor’s steady rhythm. Beep. Beep. Beep. Proof she was still here. Proof of why everything mattered.

“I’m fine,” I said quietly. “Things are… better.”

She didn’t argue. That was worse.

“Elera,” she said after a moment, voice softer now, “you know you don’t have to do everything alone, you need a man” She pleaded

I swallowed. “I know.”

“Do you?” she asked.

I didn’t answer.

She sighed, eyes drifting to the window. “Your father used to look like that when he was hiding something.”

A sharp ache bloomed in my chest.

“I’m not hiding,” I said, though it didn’t feel true. “I just… got a job opportunity.”

That much wasn’t a lie.

Her brows lifted slightly. “A good one?”

“Yes,” I said. “Very good.”

She smiled then, genuine and warm. “I’m glad. You deserve a little peace.”

Peace.

I thought of Rowan’s voice.

"You still have a choice"

Choices rarely feel like choices.

I stayed with her for another hour, helping her eat, listening to stories I’d heard a hundred times before. Each laugh felt borrowed. Each smile came with a cost I hadn’t finished paying yet.

When I finally stood to leave, she squeezed my hand.

“Whatever you’re doing,” she said, eyes searching mine, “make sure it doesn’t cost you yourself.”

I nodded because I didn’t trust my voice.

Outside the hospital, the sun felt too bright. My phone buzzed in my pocket as if on cue.

5:12 p.m.

Less than an hour.

I thought of the car that would be arriving.

Of the black box at my door.

Of the name printed on that tag.

" Mrs. Elara Blackwood"

I closed my eyes.

Whatever choice I made next, I knew one thing for certain

Mr. Blackwood had already stepped into my life.

And he wasn’t planning to step out.