Chapter 87
Chapter 87
Chapter 87 RAVEL FOUR YEARS AGO તે ર Hazel lay unconscious, her delicate frame still, and the painkillers held her in a deep slumber. The skilled hands of the doctors meticulously stitched the cra ck on her skull, a dire consequence of her unfortunate fall. This intricate procedure. consumed a grueling two hours of time, a relentless battle against the clock. Throughout the ordeal, Hazel remained blissfully unaware, as I couldn’t bear the thought of her enduring even a moment of agony. In the waiting area, the atmosphere hung heavy with unspoken words and tension. Raymond, Elenor, and Anne stood by my side, their silence echoing the collective anger that enveloped us all. No one dared to address Anne, their resentment palpable in the air. Desperate pleas had fallen from Anne’s lips countless times, each word an attempt to convince me of her innocence. She was adamant that the push down the stairs had been a dreadful accident, a tragic twist of fate she never intended. My wife’s fall and the subsequent serious injury she suffered cannot be excused. Had she not confronted her near the stairs or halted her progress, my wife would have descended the staircase unharmed. Therefore, ultimately, she is the one responsible for this unfortunate situation. In response, Raymond had to take Elenor to my apartment to obtain fresh clothing for both Hazel and me. Meanwhile, Anne likely lingered in the hallway, hoping I would reconsider my decision. I had explicitly instructed my men to prevent her from entering this room, as she has no right to see Hazel. Gently holding Hazel’s hand, I pressed a tender kiss to her inner wrist, my lips trembling as I whispered, “I’m so sorry, Hazel. I’m sorry for failing to protect you from my mother.” The prominent cra ck on her skull served as a constant, painful reminder of my shortcomings. “I’m sorry,” I repeated, my voice heavy with guilt. Leaning in, I placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, as if seeking solace in that small gesture.
As the first tears welled in my eyes, I realized I couldn’t recall the last time I had cried. I wiped them away hastily with the back of my hand, my thoughts spiraling in a tumultuous mix of sorrow and anger. Would I ever find it in my heart to forgive Anne for this? Doubt lingered in the depths of my soul like a relentless shadow. Among all her transgressions, this was the gravest, and the wounds it had inflicted ran deep. I hadn’t even noticed that I’d drifted off to sleep until I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. Opening my eyes, I found Raymond watching me intently, his concern evident in his eyes. He cautioned, “You’ll strain your neck if you sleep like that for too long,” and handed me a cup of coffee. Suppressing a yawn, I gratefully accepted the coffee. “Thank you,” I murmured, my eyes scanning the room and landing on the empty bed. A crease of worry marred my brow. “Where’s Hazel?” Raymond settled onto the other vacant sofa, exuding an air of reassurance. “Calm down, man. She’s in the restroom with Elenor.” I couldn’t help but involuntarily gaze at the closed bathroom door. “Why didn’t she wake me up?” I wondered aloud, a sense of disorientation clouding my thoughts. How long had I been asleep? Glancing at my wristwatch, I winced at the realization that three hours had passed; I hadn’t even been aware of my exhaustion. “You looked peaceful in your sleep, and she didn’t want to disturb you,” Raymond explained. Almost as if in response to his words, the restroom door swung open, and Elenor emerged, Hazel in tow. With a sense of urgency, I rose from my seat and approached them, silently signaling to Elenor to let go so I could assist Hazel on my own. Gently, I took her forearm and guided her to the bed. She settled onto it, making an attempt to reach for the pillow. I quickly aided her in adjusting it for her comfort. Whispering softly, I asked, “Are you okay? Are you in any pain? Should I call the doctor?” Concern filled my voice as I settled down beside her. She managed a weak smile. “I’ve been awake for almost two hours now,” she informed me. “I’m fine.” Despite her reassurance, I still felt the need to call the doctor. Stepping away from the bed, I walked over to the button and pressed it, determined to ensure Hazel received proper care. Raymond,
however, seemed skeptical. “Didn’t she tell you she’s fine?” he remarked with a hint of incredulity. I walked past Raymond, slapping the back of his head in the process. “You should have called the doctor the moment she woke up,” I scolded, my concern for Hazel’s well-being overriding any patience I might have had. She had endured a significant injury and needed to receive the best care possible. Returning to my spot beside Hazel, I gently cupped her face in my hands. “You really scared me, Hazel,” I admitted, my voice laden with emotion. The memory of finding her unconscious on the floor, surrounded by a pool of blood, had shaken me to my core. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.” “I promise not to,” she whispered, and I leaned in to plant a soft, reassuring kiss on her lips. As I pulled back, she smiled softly. “Where is Anne? I haven’t seen her anywhere around since I woke up.” “That’s because I don’t want to see her anywhere near you,” I gritted through clenched teeth, my agitation palpable. The mere mention of Anne’s name had the power to unravel my composure. “Attending her birthday dinner was my attempt at extending an olive branch, but she managed to make it worse by doing something even more egregious than her previous actions.” Hazel’s voice trembled as she whispered, “It was a mistake,” and I shot her a piercing glare. “Honestly, Rav, it was a mistake. Yes, Anne wasn’t pleased with me, but she never intended to push me down the stairs.” “Don’t defend her, Hazel,” I warned vehemently, my frustration with Anne’s actions simmering beneath the surface. “She shouldn’t have confronted you at all.” Anne had certainly pushed the boundaries, and if she weren’t my mother, I would have responded in a manner she’d deeply regret. The only reason she remained untouched was our family ties. Hazel sighed, her expression weary, as if grappling with the weight of the situation. “Don’t let this affect your relationship with her,” she pleaded earnestly, her eyes locking onto mine with an unwavering gaze. “I’m okay with her not liking me, but please, do not hate her because of me.” I shook my head resolutely, my resolve unwavering. “I have every reason to hate her, Hazel, and you won’t be able to talk me out of it,” I affirmed, wanting her to understand the depth of my feelings. Her frown deepened, but I needed her to understand my perspective. “I want you to listen to me, Hazel. I want you to stay away from Anne,” I asserted firmly, my tone leaving no room for compromise. “Under
no circumstances should you meet with her or acknowledge her in any way.” My concern for Hazel’s safety and well-being drove my insistence. “She’s your mother,” Hazel insisted, her voice tinged with empathy. “I can’t possibly just ignore her.” “Well, I am telling you to,” I responded sternly, the hardness in my tone causing her to avert her gaze momentarily. “I’ve never forced you to do anything before, Hazel, but I will in this case.” Her gaze slowly returned to me, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “I forbid you from meeting with Anne or being in the same space with her.” Hazel let out a sigh of frustration, her patience clearly tested. “Let’s talk about this when I’m all better,” she mumbled, lying back and attempting to close her eyes. “It isn’t going to change anything. My decision still stands. Stay away from her,” I asserted firmly, my concern for her well- being fueling my resolve. “Ravel is right,” chimed in Elenor, lending her support to my stance. “Anne might be my mother, but nothing good comes from meeting her, so just avoid her altogether.” Hazel shifted her gaze to Elenor, who continued, “You were lucky this time, but we can’t afford to take another chance.” Hazel licked her lips, her decision made. “Fine. I will avoid meeting with her.” Relief washed over me like a soothing balm. Perhaps, finally, I could start to enjoy my marriage without the constant worry that my mother might pose a threat to Hazel’s safety. I leaned down and kissed her again, my love and gratitude overwhelming me. “I love you, Hazel, and I can’t afford to lose you; I refuse to lose you.” The thought of a life without Hazel was unbearable, and I vowed to protect her at all costs.Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.