Chapter 3

Hannah's POV

Almost a month has gone by. One freaking month. Still no word from him.

My mind wandered as the nurse was asking something. " Dr Moore?" A faint voice sounded in my brain.

" Umm yeah, you were saying?" I shook my head, trying to clear it. " I was saying that you killed a patient." She replied, her eyes gazing deep into mine.

" WHAT?!" I shouted. " I am kidding! Dr Moore, are you ok? Should I get Dr Joseph?" She asked, a smile peaking from her lips. " No no, I'm fine. What were you actually saying?" I asked, slightly hitting her head.

" I was asking if you are going to turn up to the party at the club?" She asked, half pleading. I sighed, thinking of an excuse.

" She'll turn up. Don't worry." Joseph shooed the nurse away. " I am not going," I replied, placing the diagnosis sheet on the table and started walking.

" No, you are. I am not going to let you rot in that rotting dump of yours." Joseph warned, gripping my wrist.

He's got to stop doing that.

" Can I have my wrist back?" I raised an eyebrow. His grip immediately disappeared but his body was in front of me. " I got a dress for the party. It is back home. Come with me." He announced.

" You are not going to budge unless I agree, right?" I sighed. The nod of his head made me sigh once again.

" Fine fine, I will come to the damn party. But I am wearing this!"

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2 hours later

" I am not comfortable in this, Joseph!" I shouted at him. " But you look nice, just stay in it. There is no way I am letting you wear a shirt and jeans for a clubbing party." He protested.

Joseph had pushed me into his big bathroom and threw a dress on my face shouting at me," If you don't change into that, I will lock you in my beautiful bathroom!"

I held it up against my chest looking at the romper that he threw at me. A black off-shoulder romper with stars scattered over the dress.

It looks cute but on me, I don't think so.

I wore it and came out with Joseph fangirling over me. He confirmed that he could also fix my hair and makeup. When I asked how he got all of the skills and the materials, he just shrugged and said, " That's a story for another day."

" Life really sucks when you are around." I sighed, earning a look from him. " You must be thankful that I did your hair for you." He argued, passing me a shot. " I didn't ask you to do it!" I slid the shot back to him.

" Come on, stop arguing with me and drink up!" He shouted, passing me the shot once again.

The bartender gave me a sympathetic face.

" Can you give me fruit punch or something?" I asked the bartender. He nodded before sliding me a cup of apple juice.

" Place it on my tab. Thank you." His voice slurred. " I think you've had too many," I whispered. He waved me off before stumbling to the dance floor.

I sighed once again before sipping on my juice. " Hey, beautiful." A new voice sounded. My head whipped to my side to see a very handsome guy. I gave him a sheepish smile.

" You have such a beautiful smile. What is your name?" His deep voice sounded loud. " I am not here to socialise. I'm sorry to give you the wrong idea." I replied, effectively moving behind slightly.

But he closed the gap in between us, his chest brushing against mine. My breathing hastened, as I blinked furiously at him.

" It's ok. I just want to give you company for tonight." He whispered, earning a gasp from me.

" I am sorry to disturb you but Mr Young is looking for you, Mr Smith." A new voice sounded behind me. I turned to face a man in a blue suit.

Wait, he's here?!

" Tell him that I will come in a few minutes." The handsome guy—Mr. Smith replied to the guy in the blue suit. He nodded before leaving us.

" I've got a meeting with Mr Young. I expect you to be here when I come back." He explained, picking my hand up. " If not, I will hunt you down, gorgeous. Don't underestimate me." He kissed my knuckles before rushing past me.

Just as he was leaving, loneliness hit me hard, bringing tears to my eyes. I wiped my face, effectively wiping my tears away. I sipped my drink when I felt a tap on my hand.

" Do you want to talk about it? I am a great listener." The bartender asked. I sighed once again shrugging.

" Do you have a wife?" I asked, flatly. He shook his head only to reply, " I have a husband." I nodded my head. " Even better."

He waved his hand, urging me to continue. " Who is your husband?" He pointed to the entrance where I saw a bouncer. " He looks nice," I muttered loud enough for him to hear.

" Do you need an actual drink for me to get you talking?" The bartender asked, getting annoyed with me.

" Imagine this. You are married to him because your parents asked you to. But you love him. He has not touched you or even talked to you properly. The only thing you do for him is to make him breakfast and dinner. He places money in your bank account as a fee for marrying him. Whenever you try to talk to him, he gives you short replies because he could not be bothered to listen to you.

Whenever you want to try and fix your marriage with him, he makes you think there isn't a marriage at all. He makes you think that you are like a book he has in his bookshelf for years. Every time your heart breaks because of your efforts. One day you tell him that you want to leave and he barely heard you. You walk to the door hoping he would stop you but he doesn't, because he was working. How would you feel? Because this is exactly where I am. It has been a month since I left and no word from him. Should I be socializing or just sulk at home?"

I took in a deep breath. The bartender gave me a sad look before thinking. " Maybe you should free yourself by filing a divorce. It will free you and I don't think it will bother him."  He suggested. " I can't. My parents set this marriage up. His dad helped my family and in return, they set me up with him." I sniffed, feeling the tears well up in my eyes.

" Then maybe you should start unloving him. Try being with another person. Since this marriage is nothing, there shouldn't be anything restricting you from being with another person." The bartender explained.

" Is the bouncer your first love?" I asked, dunking the apple juice. He nodded but turned his head away when another person called him. He raised one finger to me, signalling me to wait for a minute. He got the person their drink and walked back to me.

" Would you be able to forget him even if he hurts you?" My question had startled him. His silence itself gave me the answer.

" I am going to tell you something I have never told anyone."