MATILDA’S POV.
I walked into the living room with a cup of honeyed tea and stopped when I saw Arlan sprawled on the couch, fast asleep. For the first time in hours, his chest rose and fell steadily. I let out a small sigh of relief.
“Finally closed those eyes of yours,” I muttered to myself. “Took you long enough after pacing and sighing all night.”
As I moved closer, I spotted the bruise on his cheek. “Great, Matilda,” I whispered under my breath. “Guess I slapped him harder than I meant to.”
Careful not to wake him, I set the cup of tea on the table and hurried to grab a bag of ice.
When I returned, Arlan was sitting up, his eyes half-lidded but alert. He blinked at me, then at the tea.
“Hi,” I said, walking up to him.
He quickly sat upright like I would jump on him, well, he is right. I could.
“Hi.” He replied, his voice husky. “Uh… thanks for letting me crash here.” He said.
“Don’t thank me. Thank the couch,” I replied. “Now drink that. I added plenty of honey, it’ll help with your hangover.”
He hesitated but reached for the tea, taking a small sip. “You shouldn’t have, I feel like a burden.”
“A burden?” I asked. “You know a simple ‘thank you’ will suffice.”
He nodded. “Thanks, once again.”He set the cup down and stood, swaying slightly.
“I should get going,” he said, but I stepped in front of him.
“Sit down.” I said in a tone that suggested I just gave an order.
“Matilda-”
“Sit,” I repeated firmly. “You’re not going anywhere with your face looking like that. It’s a mess.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Gee, thanks for the confidence boost.”
“Shut up and sit.”
Reluctantly, he dropped back onto the couch. I pulled out an ice pack, wrapped it in a cloth, and pressed it gently against his bruised cheek. He winced.
“Stay still,” I hit him gently. “You should sulk the pain in.”
“You always this bossy?”
“Only when people don’t listen.” I answered.
Arlan chuckled softly, then winced again. “Okay, okay, I get it. No jokes.”
For a moment, he stopped whining and there was nothing but silence between us. Finally, he broke it.
“About earlier… I didn’t mean-”
“Don’t.” I cut him off, shaking my head. “Let’s just get through this without another argument, alright?”
He nodded, I kept the ice pressed to his face.
As I held the ice pack to his face, Arlan’s phone buzzed on the table. I glanced at the screen out of habit, and the name flashing across it made me freeze.
Ian.
“Why is Ian calling you?” I asked, frowning.
Arlan looked at the phone and shrugged, his expression unreadable. “I don’t know.”
“Ian calling you out of the blues looks suspicious.” I pointed out hoping he would say something, but he grabbed the phone and stood up.
“Excuse me for a second.”
I watched him take few steps away from me, pressing the phone to his ear. His voice was low, almost a whisper. I couldn’t hear a thing, but his body language said plenty.
His shoulders stiffened, and his hand ran through his hair like it always did when something was wrong.
When he came back, his face was pale, and his jaw was tight. Without a word, he reached for his keys.
“Wait.” I stepped in front of him, blocking his way. “What’s going on?”
“Matilda, not now,” he muttered, trying to sidestep me.
“No.” I put a hand on his chest, forcing him to stop. “You’re not leaving like this. What did Ian say?”
He sighed, exasperated. “I don’t have time to explain.”
“Then make time, Arlan! You can’t just walk out without telling me what’s going on.”
“I can and I will,” he shot back, his voice sharper than I expected. “Move, Matilda.”
The look in his eyes stopped me. It wasn’t anger-it was fear.
“Arlan…” My voice softened. “You’re scaring me. Please, just tell me something. Anything.”
“I can’t.” His voice cracked. “I need to go.”
Before I could say another word, he brushed past me and bolted out the door. I stood there, staring after him.
“Why would Ian call Arlan out of the blues?” I couldn’t stop my curiosity. “Does this have anything to do with Saraya? Is that why he wouldn’t tell me anything?” I asked myself, trying to put the pieces together.
“I must find out myself.” I dashed to my room and unplugged my phone, fingers trembling as I scrolled through my contacts. I dialed Mary’s number, pressing the phone to my ear.
No answer.
“Come on, Mary. Pick up,” I whispered, pacing the room. I called again, and this time, the line clicked.
“Hello?” Mary’s voice came through, but it was shaky and barely audible.
“Mary? It’s Matilda. How are you doing?”
A heavy sigh escaped her, and I could hear her breathing unevenly.
“I… I’m fine.”
She didn’t sound fine. “You don’t sound okay. What’s going on?”
There was a pause, long enough to make my stomach twist. “Matilda…” Her voice cracked, and my heart dropped.
“Mary, talk to me. What’s wrong?”
Another shaky breath. “I just… I just lost my father. And… and now Alex… he collapsed.”
“What?” I gasped, clutching the phone tighter. “Alex? What happened? Where is…”
Before she could answer, a voice in the background cut in, and suddenly Ian’s angry voice filled my ear.
“Matilda.”
“Ian? What’s going on? Is Alex okay?” I demanded, panic creeping into my voice.
Ian’s voice was cold, almost accusing. “My uncle found out about Arlan and Saraya.”
The words hit me like a slap. “What? Found out what?”
“Don’t play dumb!” Ian snapped. “He found out about their little affair, and it was too much for him. That’s why he collapsed.”
I could barely breathe. “Ian, I’m sorry…”
“Save it,” he interrupted harshly. “You and Arlan… you’re supposed to be together, aren’t you? You’re carrying his child, for God’s sake! Aren’t you enough for him?”
His words were venomous, each one breaking my heart than the last.
“Ian, please, listen to me,” I pleaded.
“Listen?” He laughed bitterly. “No. If anything happens to my uncle, I won’t let Arlan off the hook. You can tell him that.”
“Ian!” Mary’s voice cut in, her tone firm but exhausted. “That’s enough. Don’t take this out on Matilda. She didn’t do anything wrong.”
I heard a muffled argument on the other end before Ian finally backed off, muttering something under his breath.
“Mary,” I said softly, tears threatening to spill. “What can I do? How is Alex? Please tell me he is okay.”
“He’s stable,” she said, her voice still trembling. “But… it’s bad, Matilda. He looked so pale. I’ve never seen him like that.”
“I’m coming,” I said firmly, already grabbing my coat. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Matilda, wait-”
“No, Mary. I need to be there.” I ended the call, my heart racing.