Stuck in this wave of emotion

Chapter 15

Freya's POV

"I asked a question, Freya," my mom pressed, her voice firm. ''Who is whose husband?"

I finally tore my gaze away from Michael, my eyes drifting back to my mom's inquiring face.

"Mom...it's not what you think...Mom, it's a...," I stammered, struggling to find the right words.

But before I could continue, Michael stepped in, his voice smooth and confident.

"Mrs. Rogers, I ought to have done an official introduction. I'm Freya's husband, Michael Smith," he announced, his eyes locked onto mine.

I glared at him, feeling a surge of anger and rage.

"How dare you butt in?" I snapped, my eyes blazing with irritation. "You have no right to disrespect my mom in this manner."

My mom's voice cut through the tension. "Freya, have you been lying to me?"

I took a deep breath, feeling a pang of guilt. "I'm sorry, Mom. I just...I needed the money for your health. I had no choice." I whispered, my voice barely audible.

"You know I'll never keep secrets from you. Besides, our marriage is a sham." I spat out the last words, my eyes challenging Michael.

He looked undisturbed, but I sensed a hint of tension beneath his calm exterior. I wondered what he was plotting. Had he left his Emma to come drag me back to that prison-like mansion?

"I still don't get it. Since when have..." My mom's voice trailed off, interrupted by a fit of coughing. I rushed to her side, gently patting her back to calm her down.

"Mom, I'm sorry," I whispered, trying to soothe her. "Besides, it's not going to last long. He has a woman," I admitted, glancing at my mom's expression.

Her face fell, disappointment etched on her face.

"A wife! How could you be so desperate to enter a fake relationship with a man who's already committed to someone else?" she asked, her voice laced with sadness and anger.

I shifted uncomfortably, moving slightly away from her bedside, feeling guilty.

"Over to you, young man," my mom said, her eyes narrowing as she turned her attention to Michael. "What do you want with my baby?"

Michael's smile seemed to hold a hint of amusement, but I couldn't fathom what he found so funny. His secretary stood silently and patiently. I couldn't help but think that the secretary was more likable than Michael.

"Didn't Freya explain everything?" Michael asked, his gaze shifting to me.

"I thought you told your mom everything," he added, his tone laced with a hint of sarcasm.

I looked away, refusing to respond. To me, his question was rhetorical, and I wasn't about to indulge him.

"I'm so disappointed in you, Freya," my mom said, her voice trembling with a mix of sadness and anger. "I didn't raise you to be this cheap. How dare you give up your dignity and pride for money?"

Her words cut deep, and I felt a sting of shame. "How dare you think little of me?" she continued, her voice gaining strength. "Using me as an excuse to be with a man who has someone else in his heart. How much did he offer to pay you?"

I felt a surge of tears as my mom's words humiliated me in front of Michael and his secretary. "Mom! I..." I cried, trying to defend myself, but my voice was drowned out by my own sobs.

This was too much. My mother, the one person I wanted to protect and care for, was now turning against me. The pain and shame were overwhelming.

"Why did you lie to me?" my mom whispered, tears streaming down her face. "You said you were working, and that...that your boss bought you those things to impress him."

"Mom, you know..." I tried to explain, but she cut me off.

"Freya! Leave!" she ordered, her voice firm and commanding.

I was taken aback. This was the first time I'd seen my mom so angry. Tears flowed uncontrollably down my face as I burst into sobs.

But as I glanced at Michael, my demeanor changed. He looked shocked, his eyes wide with surprise. Something about his expression sparked a fire within me.

"It's over," I declared, my voice firm and unyielding. "This contract is terminated. As for my mother's medical fees, I'll work tirelessly to pay them off. Even if it kills me, I never want to see you again."

I glared at Michael, then turned and ran out of the ward, unable to bear the sight of my mom's angry and hurt face. Shame and guilt overwhelmed me, and I knew I needed time to beg for her forgiveness.

It was finally over. The pretense had lasted only a few days, but the consequences would linger.

*****

Michael's POV

I had left the mansion after Ambrose's threat, determined to win Freya back. Not because I intended to stay with her, but because I had no other choice.

"Jason, where are you? Come pick me up at Crystal Ice Cafe. I don't have my car. Let's head to the hospital together," I instructed my secretary.

Before long, we arrived at the hospital. But nothing could have prepared me for the scene that unfolded. Freya's mom was shocked, and I realized too late that my actions had made everything a disaster.

I never meant to cause a drift between Freya and her mom. But it seemed I had. And yet, what struck me most was the pain I felt watching Freya cry. It was a feeling I couldn't explain, and it weighed me.

"Aren't you too hard on her?" I finally asked, breaking the silence. Freya's mom looked taken aback, as if regretting the harsh words she'd spoken.

Freya wasn't that kind of woman. I remembered clearly how she'd turned down my offer initially, only to accept it when her mother fell ill. Throughout our time together, she'd maintained a distance, never once flirting with me; except nosy.

"She's a...good woman," I admitted, the words feeling awkward but true. Jason raised an eyebrow, but I avoided his gaze.

"You were too..." I began, but my voice was cut off by her own sharp retort.

"Don't you dare lecture me! She came in here in tears, and I had suspected that something was wrong with my child. Were you the one who made her cry?" Her mother's eyes blazed with a fierce protectiveness, and I was taken aback by the energy she possessed despite her illness.

Freya had clearly inherited her mother's temper.

"I...I didn't...hurt Freya. She was just too emotional," I stammered.

Freya's mom nodded, her expression softening. "It's fine. The amount of pain and rejection life has thrown at her will make her stronger."

Her words piqued my curiosity. What had life thrown at Freya? What was her story?

"Where would she have gone to?" I asked, my voice bold despite the somber atmosphere. Freya's mom sobbed, and I felt a pang of guilt within.

"She's my precious baby girl," Freya's mom whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. "Gentleman, please bring her back. I guess I went too far. It's late, and...I shouldn't have sent her out there."

I was taken aback by her sudden change in demeanor. Just moments before, she had been angry and defensive, yet now she spoke with a soft, pleading tone.

"The wedding still holds, Mrs. Rogers," I stated, trying to sound firm.

But she shook her head. "Let her decide that herself. Freya's heart isn't capable of a contract marriage. All she needs right now isn't fake love but real. Don't chase her. Just let my child be."

Her words struck a chord within me. For the first time, I truly understood Freya's situation. She wasn't just a woman bound by a contract; she was a young woman trying to survive the challenges life had thrown her way.

Jason and I arrived at Freya's home, and I instructed him to wait in the car. I stepped out and entered the house,searching each room, but Freya was nowhere to be found. The silence and emptiness of the house seemed to echo with my growing concern. Where could she be?

I recalled that I hadn't checked the washroom and decided to investigate, despite thinking it unlikely that Freya would be there. But as I entered, I was met with a terrifying sight. "Jason!!" I called out, my voice shaking, even though I knew he wouldn't hear me.

My gaze was fixed on Freya, who was submerged in the bathtub, fully clothed. I rushed to her side, pulling her out of the water. "Freya!" I exclaimed, tapping her softly on the cheek. But she was unresponsive.

"Oh, foolish girl, why would you want to die?" I asked, as my composure slipped away. Memories of Bella flooded my mind, and I knew I had to save Freya. I quickly removed my shirt and laid her on the floor.

As I prepared to administer CPR, Freya suddenly stirred. "You're so noisy, Mr. Smith," she whispered, her voice weak but sarcastic.

I was taken aback, shocked that she was okay. Had I overreacted? I stared at her, feeling foolish.

"When you've gathered yourself, Mr. Smith, I think you should put on your shirt," she said, still feeling sad and hurt.

I watched, still in shock, as she walked away from the washroom, her wet clothes clinging to her petite frame. This woman was crazy ; and the craziest woman I'd ever met.

"Freya," I whispered, staring into space. No woman had ever made me feel like a fool before. Had I been this foolish all along?