I didn’t have the courage to die because I was scared of the pain, be it slicing wrists or jumping off a building.
The fear of pain made me a cowardly person.
His face sank. “Scarlett, this is the last time. If you’d rather hurt yourself than get revenge, then I’m done. Whether you live or die will have nothing to do with me.”
I lifted my hand to grab his arm, apologizing in a hoarse voice, “I’m sorry. I was wrong. I shouldn’t have let my emotions take control of me!”
The fact was, I couldn’t bring myself to die just like that.
Seeing my red-rimmed eyes, he sighed and placed my hand underneath the blanket before saying, “Don’t do anything stupid again. You have a long way ahead of you. Take things slowly and you’ll be fine.”
I nodded and fell into a daze with my eyes fixated on the ceiling. Why couldn’t I run Ashton over? Why wasn’t I brave enough?
Sleep took over me once again, and it was already midnight by the time I woke up.
The moment I opened my eyes, I locked gazes with the man I was supposed to meet in the afterlife.
As usual, Ashton was clad in a black tailored suit. Perhaps because the heater was turned on, he took off his coat, revealing the impeccably ironed white shirt, which was completely befitting of his personality.
“You’re awake.” He came forward and looked at me with an unreadable glint in his eyes.
He was the last person I wanted to see, so I shut my eyes.
“Are you hurting anywhere?” he continued speaking.
Without any desire to talk, I remained tight-lipped.
“Would you like some water?”
A frown appeared between my brows as the back of my hand throbbed with a dull pain. I’d had too many infusions in the past two months, so the bruise on the back of my hand hadn’t subsided.
It started to get annoying.
My body was lifted up all of a sudden, causing my eyes to fly wide open and see Ashton’s handsome face up close.
A glass of warm water was held out in front of me. I stared unflinchingly at it but didn’t react for a long time. Finally, I raised my infused hand to take it.
Truth be told, holding the glass was a rather difficult task with the needle stuck into my hand. Ashton’s eyes were filled with pain as he looked at me.
As I squinted my eyes, the glass in my hand unexpectedly slipped out of my grasp. The glass shattered upon coming in contact with the floor, the loud noise reverberating through the room.
Instantly, the temperature in the room seemed to plummet. With a faint smile on my face, I said, “Sorry. I didn’t mean it.”
Even though I was apologizing, my gaze on him was unfeeling and had no trace of guilt in it.
His brows drew together as he replied in a tensed voice, “It’s fine.” Then, he crouched down to pick up the broken glass.
Perhaps he couldn’t stand the silence hovering over us, so he spoke again, “Do you still want some water? I’ll pour you another glass.”
I lowered my gaze just then. Perceiving the slight tremble in his hands, the chill in my heart intensified.
“He was suffocated to death. Did you see it?” I knew that with John’s personality, he would’ve shown Ashton that video.
From the moment Ashton appeared, I had noticed the repressed pain in his eyes.
Yes, he had cried, and that was all that mattered to me—knowing that he was in pain.
His hand stiffened midway, and he slowly raised his eyes to look at me.
When our eyes met, I sneered, “Mr. Fuller, do you think a quick death is better or a slow one?”
He stayed silent, the pain he was feeling clearly displayed in his eyes.
Seeing as he didn’t speak, I got frustrated and pulled out the drip needle on the back of my hand.
Because I had used too much force, some blood spurted out and stained the white sheets.
I swung my feet to the side and stepped onto the ground barefooted even though I knew it was littered with glass shards.
Without hesitation, I pressed one foot down. When my sole landed on the back of Ashton’s hand, blood spilled from his palm and slowly spread on the ground. Did it hurt?
I didn’t know. All I knew was that when I held the glass shard and desperately tried to cut the rope that bound my child’s fate, it pierced into my palm again and again, staining the rope a dark red. Even so, I had failed to save my child.
I slowly looked down and saw that Ashton’s face had gone slightly pale from the sudden pain. With a casual smile, I said, “Sorry, I didn’t see your hand there.”
“It’s fine.” His voice was flat, so flat that I couldn’t detect any emotion in it.
Skirting around him, I poured myself a glass of water and sat down on the chair to sip on it.
Ashton remained crouched on the ground, pulling out the glass shards from his palm with an expressionless face.
Blood oozed from the cuts on his palm and pooled on the ground.
Did it hurt?
I was numb to everything, with only frustration as my companion.
When Rebecca arrived and saw Ashton’s bloodied palm, she looked as though she wanted nothing more than to tear me apart. “What the hell did you do, Scarlett?”
Glancing outside the windows, I surmised that it was probably very late now. She was really crazy about Ashton, even more so than I thought.
With an arched brow, I shifted my gaze toward her, only to realize that both Jared and Joe had come in after her.
