Chapter 13

Chapter 13

“Do you like Faith? Are you fucking in love with my wife, Lucas?”

That time, I didn't let him escape me. I cornered him with my sharp eyes at him, squeezing him until he admitted it by himself.

“Shut up, Elijah. Do not change the subject! I came here for Fai—”

“And why? Why did you come for her right away after you heard from that doctor about her condition?”

When he wasn't able to answer me, I knew that he did. He likes Faith. He's in love with her and we were all too blind and naive not to notice it.

“I don't care if you like her or not, Lucas. But just so you know, she is my wife now.” Our eyes remained together for a few seconds more before I distanced myself from him.

“Take him out,” I said to the bodyguards and turned my back to him. I didn't look back and headed straight at Faith's room.

She was still sleeping when I came back. I didn't know how long I would stay standing at the door while I couldn't take any step towards her with my conscience making me soft once again. From there, I could see how tired she was.

I married a famous designer. Ever since, her art and designs amazes me all the time. I knew before that she would not even struggle to be successful on her own with her perseverance and talent that she possessed. I wasn't wrong after all. She made it. But then, she changed a lot. She looks thinner than before.

I had to muster my courage before I went beside her and sat on the bed. I took that chance to stare at her face closely.

“F-Freya,”

I remained silent when she suddenly called her sister's name. Her brows crossed and she was shaking her head a bit as if she was having a bad dream.

“N-No, Freya. D-Don’t drive…you don't know how to drive. Mom and Dad will g-get mad,” I quickly stood up and clenched my jaw.

Is she having it, too? The trauma? Is she being haunted by Freya's death, too?

“P-Please, Freya…listen to me. Freya,”

I can't stand it. I can't bear it. I quickly stepped out of her room, leaving her there alone.

Faith's POV

The first thing I saw when I woke up was the ceiling. I closed my eyes again when I still felt sick. My head was still aching along with my bones. Am I getting old? Damn it.

When my hand traveled on my face, I found a towel on my forehead. That was when I saw the bowl of water on the side table of my bed along with the medicine.

“What happened?” I mumbled, trying to recall how I ended right here.

When I heard the reek of the door, I knew that it was probably Marie.

“Marie, how did I end her—” I froze when I shifted my eyes there and didn't find Marie.

Everything just stopped for a few seconds. My lips parted and I was left looking at him, holding a tray of food while eyeing me.

“E-Elijah,” I stuttered, too stunned to see him here instead of Marie.

He didn't say a word and I only watched him bring the food on the side table. He ever cleared it out before he came back looking at me. What's happening? Why is he here?

Before I could even ask that, I suddenly remembered everything. Oh, hell, yeah. I passed out before I could even reach my damn room.

“I brought you here when you passed out downstairs. I didn't know that you were sick,” he said coldly. That's the only thing that doesn't surprise me.

“Marie cooked this. You should eat,” he added.

I kept my eyes on him. He's looking at me like nothing happened between us. As if he didn't bring a lot of women in this house and make me hear them having sex every night.

“What? Do you want me to feed you?”

I immediately moved my eyes away and started to eat. It was uncomfortable as he was watching me.

“I would appreciate it if you would not watch me eat,” I said.

“You're too thin,” I heard him mumble.

“I heard that,” I uttered. He didn't care. He only looked away from me just like what I wished him to do.

I shook my head and forced myself to eat. I don't remember when was the last time I ate.

“You're already done?” He asked with his brows arched while staring at the food left on the tray.

“Yeah,” I replied.

“You almost didn't touch it,” he said as if he couldn't believe that it's all that I could eat.

“I have no appetite,” I said.

“Seriously? That's why you get sick. You don't eat a lot. You have to finish all of this before taking the meds,” I paused and looked at him again.

Hold on, is he nagging me? He's acting really weird right now. This isn't him again. Until I realized that this is the longest conversation we have after our wedding. It's also the calmest conversation we have.

“I'm fine,” I said and started to take the meds before he could even complain again.

I heard him sigh as if he accepted his defeat over me—for the first time.

“You still need to rest, I'll leave you alone.” He uttered as he left my room. I watched him leave, speechless.

Just like what Elijah said, I took more sleep as I needed to. I still don't feel well. I know that I am still sick.

When I woke up and checked the time, it was already afternoon. I don't want to stay there all day lying down on the bed. I need to move to get better gradually, so I went out of my room.

“Ms. Faith! Why are you up? You should rest more,” I chuckled when Marie was the first one to say that when I went downstairs.

“Chill. I feel better now, don't worry.” I gave her a short smile to lessen her worries towards me.

“Sir Elijah was so worried last night. Do you know how many times he cursed me because I was panicking so much and my brain isn't functioning?” She chuckled and shook her head. “He was walking repeatedly while Betty was treating you last night.”

“He did those?”

Is she serious? Did he really become nervous last night because of me?

“Yeah. I saw it with my own eyes!” She exclaimed and giggled.

“Faith,”

We both stopped as we heard that baritone voice. There was Elijah, standing there with his hands hiding inside his short's pockets.

“The lunch is ready. If you feel better, you should…” he paused, looking hesitant to continue his words. I saw how he had a hard time all of a sudden.

“You should join me,” he added before he turned his back immediately.

“See?” Marie giggled again and I found myself wearing a very little smile protruded on my lips.

“Stop it,” I told her before I headed to the dining hall as Elijah said.

I saw him putting food on my plate already, which he never does before.

“Sit here,” he said and pulled the chair for me. I remained standing there like a damn statue who was trying to process what I was witnessing. Perhaps, he's the one who's sick, not me.

“T-Thanks,” I said.

Then, he sat right in front of me. Closer than before.

“You should finish that this time. You have to eat a lot,” he said before he began to eat as well.

Am I dreaming? Is this really happening? Pinch me if this isn't true.

“What happened to that?” I should have not asked that, but it slipped out of my tongue when I noticed the bruise on the side of his lips.

He stopped for a moment as well and realized that I was pertaining to that.

“Why don't you ask Lucas?”

That made me stop there. My brows crossed while looking at him. Why is his name being brought up here?

“What do you mean?” I asked immediately.

“He came here last night when he found out that you were sick. This is what I get,” he shrugged and continued eating.

“He won't do it without a reason, Elijah.”

Maybe I was being too comfortable when I said that. I saw how he froze and how that little smirk became evil.

“Are you telling me that I was the one who started the fight?” I couldn't answer. I was lost for words as if there was a lump stuck in my throat.

I was holding the spoon firmly. I didn't want to ask this, but I am not used to it.

“Why are you acting like this, Elijah?”

Our eyes were now locked at each other. It captured his attention even more.

“Why are you acting like you care for me?”

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