CHAPTER 05: The Softest Goodbye to Her Silence

“I… I’m sooo sorry… I… I didn’t know he was important. I thought he was just a stranger… and that’s why I was scared. He… he looks…”

She turned her face toward Mr. Parker, her eyes wide with uncertainty, lips trembling as she swallowed the words she didn’t dare to speak. Her voice dropped to a whisper, softer than the silence in the room.

“I hadn’t seen him before… I couldn’t recognize him. Is he… is he outside? If yes, then please… please ask him to come in. I want to apologize.”

The room fell into stunned stillness. For the first time in years, Davina had initiated a conversation. Not out of compulsion. Not out of necessity. But from a place of fragile courage blooming in her heart. Mr. Parker blinked in disbelief before quickly replying, “It’s okay, Davi. You don’t need to force yourself. I’ll speak to him for you…”

But she shook her head, her fingers clenching the hem of her blanket. “No… I want to.”

This wasn’t the Davina they knew— the one who built walls thicker than steel, the girl who hid behind the glow of her laptop, who chose digital classrooms and empty corridors over human connection. This Davina was trying… bleeding and bruised, but still trying.

When they told Michelle, he didn’t say much. But his silence wasn’t hollow. It was filled with an overwhelming joy he didn’t dare show. She asked about him. She wanted to see him. He walked inside her room with a heart full of restrained happiness, masking it with a practiced blankness.

But her reaction was far from warm. As soon as she saw him, fear curled around her like a storm. Her lips twitched upward in a ghost of a smile that never fully formed. She couldn’t meet his eyes. She looked so small, so breakable.

A part of her was scared of him, another part wanted to ask Michelle if he knew the man she feared the most. Where they related? Though she believed and trusted Mr. Parker and Dr. Marshall’s words, a part of her was worried, looking at the similar facial traits, yet she could also see they had nothing in common; both were two different individuals.

Mr. Parker interrupted the silence, announcing he had meetings to attend and asked Michelle to stay with her. Davina’s head snapped up, stunned. Michelle’s lips twitched with a barely restrained smirk of triumph.

Before she could even react, Mr. Parker leaned in, pressed a kiss to her cheek, and left. Mr. and Mrs. Marshall soon followed, leaving her utterly stunned, words dying in her throat.

The silence they left behind echoed louder than their departure.

Michelle looked at her with childlike joy barely hidden behind a sheepish shrug. She looked at him, at the ridiculous grin on his face, and though her heart pounded with unease, a reluctant smile bloomed on her lips.

A silent truce.

Time stood still. He couldn’t find the words, and she couldn’t find the strength. She fidgeted, he looked at the floor. Then came her laughter— pure, uninhibited, and utterly unexpected.

He looked up, captivated. It hit him like a wave. She’s laughing.

He watched her, stunned by the contradiction of who she had been and what she was becoming.

“You… *laughs* you look so damn funny! Your face is… pink! Like a shy pink panther!”

That word— pink panther— stabbed at his pride. He was used to being called many things: handsome, commanding, intimidating. But this? This was new. But he swallowed the insult with a tight smile. Because she laughed. And that mattered more.

“I’m not hurt, sweetie,” he said, eyes downcast. “I’ve heard worse. Actually… that’s the cutest insult I’ve ever received.”

She blushed.

“I’m just not used to this. I don’t know how to be gentle. I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m sorry…”

A silence stretched again before she softly responded, “I am She…” Her voice cracked, emotion tightening around her throat like a noose. Her eyes welled, and she fought for composure. “I… I am Davina. Davina Parker.”

He smiled. “Relax, sweetie. I don’t eat humans.”

She chuckled, and the walls between them cracked.

“I’m Michelle Nicholas Bell… but you can call me Mike.”

He watched her, mesmerized. She still didn’t know he noticed every twitch of her lips, every flicker of her eyes.

She teased him back. “Don’t worry. I don’t eat humans either.”

He grinned. She smiled. The distance shrank.

“Would you like to join me for coffee?” he asked, heart pounding.

She hesitated. But when her eyes met his, ocean-blue and honest, she nodded.

All he needed was a positive response from her. He quickly arranged her Discharge papers and completed all formalities, promising her to drop her off at Parker Mansion soon.

Later, sitting in his luxury car, she stared out, trying to calm her nerves while he watched her like a man witnessing a miracle.

Her beauty. Her strength. Her broken grace.

He wanted to know her story, every painful piece of it. But he stayed silent. He didn’t want to ruin this fragile beginning.

“What coffee shop do you prefer?”

She smiled and looked at her stomach while caressing it. “Anything…. Actually….. I’m so hungry, I could eat a whole elephant!”

He laughed, relieved.

But when they reached the restaurant— his own, high above the city— her body trembled. The stares, the whispers… her panic returned.

She shrank beside him, her hand grabbing his involuntarily. His heart leapt. She immediately released his hand from her grip.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, but to her surprise, he held her hand, which she quickly pulled away from his grip. He looked surprised, making her feel guilty and regretful for her reflex.

“It’s not your fault. I just… my body….. I am not comfortable with touch… I…..”

He bent down, wiped her tears. “It’s okay, sweetie. Let’s just focus on your hunger, yeah?”

They laughed, walked in, and rode the elevator together. He watched her marvel at the view, unaware she was becoming his view.

A part of him was yearning to know about her past because he was sure there was a lot more than what Dr. Marshall had told him, but he didn’t want to force her to speak and make her despise him. He cared for her and loved her deeply the moment he saw her. It reminded him of his mother and her troubled days and helplessness.

When they sat in the private area, her comfort slowly returned. They laughed. Ate like children. Shared stories like old friends.

For the first time, she felt… safe.

Not all men were monsters. Not all touch meant pain.

Mike… was different.

That day, she didn’t just step out of the hospital—

She slowly stepped out of her past.

.

.

.

PAST ENDS