'Beep... Beep... Beep...'
The rhythmic beeping echoed in the vast yet suffocatingly sterile hospital room, an ever-present reminder that she was still alive. But for Aveline Laurent, the place had long ceased to be a hospital; the luxurious room had become her home for over three months.
The crisp white sheets beneath her frail body were pristine, untouched, much like the door, which remained closed more often than not. She had stopped glancing towards it, stopped hoping for visitors, stopped waiting.
Does she have a family?
Yes, she has parents and a brother.
Does she have a husband?
Yes, she has a caring husband.
Yet, not a single soul had come to see her for weeks.
Why should they?
How could they bear to watch her slowly perish before their very eyes, day after day?
People had their own lives and the right to live.
They had dreams, aspirations, obligations—things she no longer had. And so, rather than resenting their absence, she comforted herself, convincing herself for the hundredth time that it was better this way.
She smiled, a weak but sincere curve of her lips. She didn't want to be the reason they suffered. It was easier to let them go on with their lives than to watch them crumble under the weight of her inevitable death.
Her hazel eyes fluttered open, shifting sluggishly to the clock on the wall. A flicker of light ignited in their depths.
'It's time.' She thought.
She turned her gaze to the side, stretching out a trembling hand to reach for the remote. The effort alone drained her, but she pushed through, pulling off the monitoring clip from her finger in the process.
Instantly, the machines around her erupted in chaos. The monotonous beeping transformed into a piercing, urgent alarm, shrieking as though it was signaling her demise.
Her brows knitted together in frustration. All she wanted was the remote.
The door burst open, and the aged caretaker, a retired nurse, rushed inside, her expression laced with worry. "Mrs. Ashford, you mustn't remove the monitoring devices," she chided, her voice exuding the same concern it had every other time Aveline had done this.
Aveline's parched lips moved, whispering an apology. "I'm sorry." She never wanted to be a burden. She simply wanted to watch the news.
With a sigh, the nurse reattached the clip, silencing the alarm. The haunting beeps returned, more ominous than reassuring.
Hesitantly, the caretaker picked up the remote and handed it over. "Your husband has stopped visiting you," she murmured, her tone tinged with sorrow. "Why do you still follow his news?"
Aveline merely smiled in response, prompting the caretaker to shake her head with a sigh before running a gentle hand over Aveline's thinning hair. "The Lord has been cruel to you, Mrs. Ashford," she whispered before retreating from the room.
Aveline said nothing. She had thought those words too many times herself. Instead of rethinking the same, she turned on the television, the lively voice of a news anchor filling the emptiness around her.
"Damien Ashford and Vivienne Sinclair are set to tie the knot in three months at the grand Laucala Island."
Aveline's breath hitched.
There he was—Damien Ashford, her husband—standing tall in a tailored midnight-blue suit, exuding effortless sophistication. His sharp jawline, perfectly groomed appearance, and quiet confidence made him the epitome of the ideal gentleman.
And beside him stood Vivienne Sinclair.
Vivienne was everything Aveline wasn't. She was strikingly beautiful, her statuesque figure draped in elegance. As the CEO of Sinclair Lifestyle, she was a force in the business world, a fashion icon, and a socialite who commanded every room she walked into. She belonged in the spotlight, while Aveline had faded into the shadows.
Aveline's gaze flickered to her reflection on the machine's polished surface. Sunken cheeks. Hollow eyes. Lifeless skin. A stark contrast to the glowing woman standing beside Damien on the screen.
They were perfect together—flawless in every way. A match made in heaven.
And yet, Aveline smiled.
She had pushed him towards this. He deserved a healthy wife, someone to walk beside him, share his dreams, to bear his children, to give him a future she never could.
'Future!' Her smile turned into a sad smile, recalling the future he dreamed of with her.
~~~
The first time she got hospitalized and Damien was taking care of her in the hospital.
Looking at him lost in thought while peeling the apple, she couldn't help but ask, "Damien, what are you daydreaming about?"
Dropping the apple, he wiped his hand and sat on her bed. He held her bony hand and flashed her a charming smile. "Once you recover, we will first start your dream—Bloom & Grace," his velvety voice soothed her, "then we will have two kids."
"Two?" Aveline chuckled, amused at how he fixed the number.
Damien continued, "Since you will have most events on Sunday, we will keep Saturday as family day. We will go out and have lots of fun."
Aveline chuckled, teasing, "Will you be able to drop your work for a day?"
Damien caressed her cheek and challenged her playfully, "Recover and see, I can even ignore the whole world for you."
Aveline chuckled joyously as she nodded in agreement.
~~~
Aveline snapped out of her daze when she heard Damien's voice.
'She is the love of my life. My inspiration. My everything.'
Her brows furrowed.
Love of his life?
Her gaze snapped back to the screen, this time noticing the warmth in Damien's eyes. The adoration, the unfiltered devotion he had never shown her.
Her heart monitor spiked.
Aveline and Damien had an arranged marriage. He had never been in love before their marriage. He was too focused on his work. He had only agreed to the second marriage because she had insisted it was her dying wish...
Her breath grew shallow. No. It must be a publicity stunt because Vivienne was no less than a celebrity, and they need to maintain the image.
But then why...
Why had Damien always kept their marriage a secret?
Aveline's fingers curled into the sheets as realization struck like lightning. He had always insisted on privacy, refusing to be seen with her at business events, never once announcing their marriage to the world.
The heart monitor screamed as her pulse skyrocketed when she heard the newsreader.
'The most eligible bachelor is engaged to the love of his life. Their love story goes back a decade...'
The room spun.
The door flung open, nurses and doctors rushing in. Someone cupped her face, urging her to breathe, "Mrs. Ashford, focus on breathing and relax." A doctor prepared medicine for her palpitation, but Aveline barely heard them. Her mind was drowning in betrayal.
Then, a calm voice yet laced with ice, cut through the chaos.
"Enough."
Everyone froze.
Aveline's racing heart pounded painfully against her ribs as Dr. Elias Hawthorne stepped forward. He was her doctor, the man who had spent endless nights searching for a cure to her mysterious illness.
So why... why was he looking at her with such disgust?
"She isn't Mrs. Ashford."
Silence.
Aveline's breath hitched without understanding what he meant..
Dr. Hawthorne waved the staff away. The moment the door shut, he pulled a small, unlabeled vial and syringe from his coat pocket.
Aveline tried to steady her breathing. "Doctor... does my illness affect my mind?" because she was scared of the growing negative thoughts.
Her husband had no reason to betray her when she was the one pushing him for a second marriage. Though busy, he treated her like a treasure. He had skipped days of work just to accompany her in the hospital.
Elias paused, just for a second. Then, he smirked. "You turned out to be quite the cockroach. You just won't die, will you?"
A chill ran down her spine.
Was he the same doctor who used to be so kind and patient with her?
With calculated ease, he filled the syringe. "I never wanted to get my hands dirty, but the new Mrs. Ashford insists you die today."
New Mrs. Ashford? Vivienne.
Before Aveline could react, the needle pierced her arm.
Fire ignited in her veins, an agonizing burn spreading through her body like a wildfire.
"Damien..." she gasped painfully, clinging to his name, her last desperate call of hope.
Elias laughed, a cruel, mocking sound.
Aveline fought against the darkness, memories of her past flashing before her eyes. Her marriage. Her family's downfall. Damien's kindness, was it real?
Was anything real?
She needed to know the truth.
The truth.
The truth behind everything.
Her lips parted, the word barely a whisper. "Why?"
Before the darkness consumed her, she saw a tall figure storming in, his fist colliding with Elias's face. Then his strong arms wrapped around her trembling form, warm and desperate.
"Aveline..."
She had braced herself for a cold, lonely death. But as she embraced those strong, desperate arms, the warmth almost made her believe, for just a second, that maybe she wasn't alone after all.
But the burning question still lingered in her fading mind.
Why?