48

[ARTEMY]
Restless, I paced back and forth in my office, consumed by thoughts of Rebecca. She occupied my mind throughout the entire day, her face haunting my every thought. The image of her fragile body in my arms, surrounded by her own blood, lingered relentlessly. Determined to resist the temptation to rush to her side, I had barricaded myself in the office, convincing myself that she needed time. However, it was a constant struggle to stay away from her when all I yearned for was to offer her solace.
As the knock echoed through the door, irritation welled up within me, and I gruffly instructed the person to come in. The door swung open, revealing Avim entering the room. I turned to face him and demanded impatiently, “So? Did she say anything?”
Avim’s expression remained blank, his brows furrowed as he regarded me with impassive eyes. He shook his head in response to my question and let out a weary sigh. When Rebecca had shut herself off from me, stubbornly refusing to listen to a word I said, I had thought that perhaps Avim could reach her by sharing his own experiences. He was a man of few words, and he despised discussing the past, but I knew he wouldn’t refuse me. As soon as I presented my idea to him, he had simply nodded and left without uttering a single word.
I had hoped that maybe Rebecca would open up to Avim if not to me or Lynda. But it was evident that she hadn’t. “Nothing at all?” I asked, taking a step back and leaning against the table, crossing my arms over my chest.
“No, boss. I tried, but she’s not ready. I don’t think she’ll be ready anytime soon,” Avim responded. There was a hint of understanding in his tone. It had taken him years to overcome his own PTSD, and even now, he wasn’t fully recovered.
“We just have to give her time,” he continued, his voice softening slightly. If there was anyone who understood Rebecca on a profound level, it was Avim.
I muttered a curse under my breath, frustration coursing through me as I ran my hand through my hair.
“We can’t push her too hard.”
“I know,” I snapped, glaring at him. “What are you going to do now?” he asked, curiosity coloring his voice.
And that was a question I had no answer to. I felt lost, unsure of how to navigate Rebecca’s fragile state. I was terrified of making a misstep that could harm her or, worse, push her further into isolation. “I don’t know,” I replied honestly. Avim fell silent at my response, and the room became thick with tension. I turned my back to him, facing the large window that overlooked the serene back garden.
“But I will figure it out,” I declared, my voice filled with determination.
“Do you need me for anything else?” Avim inquired.
Shaking my head, I dismissed him. “No. You can leave.”
I rested both hands on the table, leaning forward. “What am I going to do with you, Rebecca?” I whispered, fixating my gaze on the window.
After a few minutes of staring into the distance, I straightened my posture and shrugged on my suit jacket before leaving the room. Originally planning to head downstairs for dinner, my steps faltered as I approached the stairs. Glancing to my right, I found myself staring down the hallway leading to Rebecca’s room. It beckoned to me, a temptation I couldn’t resist. I had spent the entire day apart from her, and now I stood mere steps away.
But what if she didn’t want to see me?
Frustration surged through my veins, fueled by the uncertainty that plagued my thoughts. Clenching my fists, I took a step down the stairs, but then abruptly stopped. “Fuck it!” I hissed under my breath, retracing my steps and making my way towards Rebecca’s room. Standing before her door, I took a deep breath, exhaling quickly before rapping my knuckles against the wood. My heart began to quicken its pace as I anxiously awaited her response. Damn it! Was I nervous?
I hesitated, my realization sinking in, and doubts about my decision began to cloud my mind. I took a step back from the door, ready to retreat, when her sweet voice reached my ears.
“Come in.”
Those two words, spoken with such tenderness, stopped me in my tracks. I couldn’t bring myself to leave. Placing my hand on the doorknob, I slowly opened the door and stepped inside.
Rebecca was seated on the bed, the comforter draped over her legs as she stared thoughtfully at the walls. As soon as I entered the room, her head snapped towards me.
“Artemy,” she whispered, her lips barely moving.
“Rebecca.” We locked eyes, both of us rendered speechless by the intensity of the moment. Acting on instinct, I took a step forward, closing the distance between us until I stood by her bedside. Her emerald eyes blinked up at me, filled with surprise, and she nervously licked her lips.
Clearing my throat, I softly inquired, “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” she replied quickly, catching me off guard with her response. I didn’t expect her to answer at all. Tilting my head slightly, I gazed at her inquisitively. She averted her gaze, looking down at her lap, her fingers twisting the comforter.
“Have you eaten yet?” I asked, feeling the air grow heavy with awkwardness. I wanted to see her, but I didn’t know what to say. Everything about this woman perplexed me, and my conflicting emotions only added to the confusion.
Rebecca nodded. “I had lunch a little late, so I’m not hungry.”
“Okay.”
Silence fell between us once more, and this time, I found myself at a loss for words. Clearing my throat once again, I began to retreat from her bed. Her head snapped up, and I noticed a slight forward movement in her body. Her mouth opened as if she wanted to say something, but she quickly closed it.
“I just wanted to check on you,” I said gently, keeping my eyes fixed on her. “I should go. You need to rest.”
Rebecca’s shoulders slumped, and a hint of sadness appeared in her eyes. I furrowed my brows, puzzled by her expression. Did she not want me to leave? However, when she remained silent, I sighed and turned around.
But her voice halted my departure. “Wait,” she called softly. Swiveling back to face her, I waited, curious about what she had to say.
“Yes?” I replied, perplexed by her sudden call, simply nodding in her direction.
Her hand fluttered to her throat, and she brushed a few strands of hair behind her ear, her hands trembling with nervousness. I observed her swallowing several times, visibly struggling to find her voice again. I waited, surprisingly patient.
“I… want to thank you… I mean…” She stumbled over her words, her stutter growing more pronounced. Rebecca hastily closed her mouth, her lips forming a determined line, frustration evident on her furrowed brow.
She closed her eyes, took a few deep breaths, and exhaled. Opening her eyes once more, she mustered her courage. “Thank you for the flowers,” she blurted out quickly, her words almost slipping past me.
A beautiful shade of red tinged her cheeks, and her gaze dropped. She nervously wiped her hands on the comforter, awaiting my response.
But I was utterly bewildered.
Flowers?
What the hell was she talking about?
“Flowers?” I repeated, completely unsure of what she had just said. Why was she thanking me for flowers?
“Yes,” she confirmed, nodding towards her nightstand. I followed her gaze and noticed a vase with lovely pink flowers.
However, those flowers weren’t a gift from me. Rebecca’s soft murmurs caught my attention as she whispered, “Lynda told me you got them for me. They are so beautiful.” Her words made me turn back to her, but the mention of Lynda infuriated me. What was she thinking? She had crossed a line this time, and anger surged through me, causing my jaw to twitch.
Rebecca’s grateful words and the tender look on her face made it difficult for me to reveal the truth. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. “Thank you so much,” she whispered again, her gaze fixed on me. Her expression took my breath away-her twinkling green eyes, her softened face, and her flushed cheeks.
In the face of her sweetness and vulnerability, I couldn’t find the words to tell her the truth. “Right. Flowers. I’m glad you like them,” I managed to say, concealing my frustration.
“I do,” she breathed, her gaze returning to the flowers. A small smile appeared at the corners of her lips. As Rebecca continued to admire the flowers, I slowly started to step away. “I should go,” I said.
“Okay,” she whispered softly.
“Okay.” I gave her one last look before tearing my gaze away. Leaving her room, I hurriedly walked out, and as soon as the door closed behind me, I let my anger take over. “Lynda,” I hissed.
Quickly making my way downstairs, I headed straight for the kitchen, knowing Lynda would be there. With each step, my anger grew towards the lies she had fed Rebecca. Stepping into the kitchen, I couldn’t contain my frustration any longer. I snapped loudly, my voice filled with annoyance and fury. “Lynda!”