Chapter 29 – Pain & Panic
Isabel’s POV
I never imagined Emerson could muster such strength in his weakened state. Maybe it was I who was the weaker one. Caught off guard, I was pushed down by him. My body hit the cold, hard ‘floor with a force that knocked the wind out of me.
The impact sent a nearby glass tumbling from the table. It shattered against the floor. Before I could react, sharp shards dug into my skin. A cry of pain escaped my lips, piercing through the tense silence.
The sound seemed to snap Emerson out of his rage. His eyes widened in shock. He looked at me as if he couldn’t believe what he had just done. Tears welled up in my eyes as I looked up at him. The man I had once loved and admired more than anyone. The man who had hurt and betrayed me, more than anyone.
The maid rushed in, having heard the commotion. She quickly helped me to my feet. Her hands trembled as she took in the sight of the blood seeping from my wound. “You’re hurt!” she exclaimed, her voice full of concern and fear. “You need to lie down, and wel need to get this cleaned up.”
Emerson was still frozen. His gaze was locked on the red streaks staining my arm. “Call Eric,” he finally muttered, his voice devoid of its usual confidence. “Yes, call him now,” he added, as if the words would somehow make everything right.
The maid nodded and led me out of the study. With each step, I felt a sharp pain in my stomach. But I forced myself to keep walking, pretending nothing was wrong. My legs trembled slightly beneath me. The pain from my stomach and the stinging cut on my arm. nearly overwhelmed me. I just needed to make it to my room, away from all the pain and confusion.
19
Behind me, Emerson called out, “Isabel, I…” His voice wavered, uncertain, unlike the Emerson I knew.
I stopped, but I didn’t turn around. If you want to apologize,” I said, my voice cold and steady, “you’d better apologize for everything you’ve done to me. And… for our baby.” The words felt heavy on my tongue, laden with all the hurt he had caused.
I stood in the hallway, right next to the room that should’ve been our baby’s nursery. I couldn’t stand it. The grief was overwhelming. I didn’t wait for a response. I didn’t want to see the look on his face. I just kept walking, leaving him behind.
The pain in my stomach intensified as I made my way to the bedroom. It was almost too much to bear, but I couldn’t let him see how weak I felt. Once inside, I collapsed onto the bed, clutching my abdomen. The pain was sharp. Almost like a knife twisting inside me. I closed my eyes, trying to will it away. But it only grew worse.
A short while later, Eric arrived. He was quick and efficient. He treated the cut on my arm with the practiced ease of someone who had done this countless times before. “Are you okay, miss White?” He asked, his voice gentle. But I couldn’t bring myself to answer. All I could do was nod. I didn’t trust myself to speak without revealing how much pain I was truly in.
Eric finished bandaging my arm and left the room to speak with Emerson. I could hear their voices just outside the door, low and urgent. I tried to ignore them, focusing instead on the rhythmic throbbing in my arm. But then 1 caught a few words that sent a chill down my spine.
“Did you bring the necessary devices?” Emerson’s voice was low, almost a whisper. But I heard it clearly. “I want you to do a physical examination on her.”
My heart skipped a beat. What was he planning? Why was he so
obsessed with my health? I had to find a way to avoid it.
I couldn’t let him discover the truth–not yet. Not until I fully understood the implications of my illness myself. Right now, only Emma and Robert knew. And I planned to keep it that way.
Knowing Emerson, he wouldn’t stop until he found out. And if he did, he would try to control and coerce me into doing whatever he ‘deemed best. I wasn’t going to take it. I couldn’t handle him
meddling in my life anymore. I had to find a way out.
I lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying to think of a way out. The walls of the room felt like they were closing in on me. The air grew thicker with each passing second.
I knew I had to act fast. But I was exhausted. Both physically and emotionally. How could I possibly outmaneuver Emerson in this state?
My mind raced, but my body refused to cooperate. I could feel the fear creeping in. I had to keep calm, had to find a way to regain control. But all I could do was lie there. Waiting, dreading what would come next.
Would Emerson keep pushing? Would he keep digging until he found out everything? Or would he, for once, leave me alone?
As I heard the men’s heavy footsteps getting into action, the panic within me rose. “Oh no! What should I do?”