Chapter 35 I Don't Care What Others Think

Once Victoria had finally fallen asleep, Eleanor tiptoed out of the room.

She pulled out her phone, not hesitating in the least to dial Vincent's number.

"What the hell do you want, Vincent?"

His low chuckle on the other end snaked through the line,. "What to do? I still haven't gotten even."

"If you have a problem, come at me, not my mom. This isn't over between us!"

Vincent scoffed, "A daughter's failure is the mother's fault. Your mother didn’t raise you right, turned you into a classless tramp - doesn't she deserve to be taught a lesson?"

"You've been throwing yourself at Aaron over and over again. Do you think I’m dead?"

Her words came through gritted teeth, furious enough to tear Eleanor apart. The faux genteel facade of the demure debutante cracked, revealing the sharp bitterness of a jealous shrew.

Eleanor stepped into an empty stairwell, "Wouldn't have had to if it weren't for you, now would I?"
"You have the nerve to pin this on me?"

"You know exactly what went down last night, Aaron might have let you off easy, but don't think I'll do the same!"

Vincent sat in his car, squinting slightly, toying with his freshly done nails. "Such a shame to waste a golden opportunity. It's beyond me how Edward could fail to seize it—what a lost cause!"

Eleanor clenched her fists, "It was you all along!"

The previous night, she had slumped on the couch, the alcohol fogging her memory. She could only recall Edward supporting her, but how it ended up being Aaron was a blur.

"So what if it was me? You think Aaron's gonna blame me over you?" Vincent smirked triumphantly.

She was seething with jealousy at the thought of Eleanor leaving with Aaron last night, only to emerge from the Manor in the afternoon. Just the idea of what could've transpired between them—given Aaron's physique—was enough to send her imagination raging.

"You were practically throwing yourself at Aaron last night, and no man would turn down an offer like that. He used you and then tossed you aside, treating you like a cheap trinket. Just remember your place before you dare compare yourself to me!"

Triumphant, she hung up the phone.

The screen went dark, the stark white light of the stairwell fell upon Eleanor's ashen face reflected on the screen.

When she heard the nurse call out, she quickly composed herself and left the stairwell.

The nurse handed her a form; Victoria's admission had been rushed, and some procedures were incomplete. She needed to head to the front desk to settle the payment.

No sooner had she completed the formalities than the hallway erupted with noise. Victoria had awoken, not seeing Eleanor, and her cries of panic filled the quiet floor.

Traumatized and disoriented, she had slept thinking she was still trapped in that godforsaken restroom. In the end, both the doctor and nurse had to hold her down to administer a sedative. As her eyelids slowly surrendered to rest, she finally found her way back to sleep.

Gazing at her mother's disheveled, pale complexion, Eleanor's heart clenched with empathy, haunted by the thought of her mother's despair for nearly twenty hours.

The ringtone jolted her, Aaron's name flashing on the caller ID sent a shiver down her spine.

Suddenly, a surge of complex feelings rose in her chest—grievance, resentment—threatening to choke her.

She exited the patient room hastily, wary of waking Victoria who had just fallen asleep, and didn't stray too far. She answered the phone near the utility room.

"Hello?"

His voice was cool, "Why are you picking up just now?"

"My momr just fell asleep."

She thought he knew already, Blake would've told him.

But she had misjudged the intent behind his call.

"Remember to take your medication."

A sharp pang shot through Eleanor's heart, spreading to her throat, she managed to choke out a "Yeah, okay," before ending the call.
Before Aaron could reply, her hands trembled as she hung up the phone.

He had called her to remind her to take the morning-after pill.

Eleanor stood still, tilting her head back and drawing a deep breath, her chest aching fiercely. Leaning against the wall, she gasped for air like a fish out of water, taking a while to fully recover.

Retracing her steps, she only left the hospital room after confirming that Victoria had fallen into a deep sleep, then stopped by a nearby pharmacy to buy the morning-after pill.

Without water, she popped two pills directly into her mouth.

The tablets clung to her throat, caught in limbo, prompting her to retch, nausea overwhelming her. Tears fell as she almost wished to slap herself.

Resting her hands on the planter, she hung her head and laughed at her own recklessness.

Never learning her lesson, doing the same mistakes over and over.

Edward found her sitting on a planter not far from the pharmacy, cradling her knees, trembling in the wind like a flower battered by a storm.

"Eleanor!"

She turned, and in his black windbreaker, Edward jogged towards her.

As he drew closer, Eleanor noticed the heavy bags under his eyes; he appeared to have not rested well, emanating a sense of despair.

"What’s wrong with you?"

"How are you?"

They spoke at the same time.

Eleanor shook her head, "I’m fine, it's my mom who’s feeling unwell."

"I mean last night," Edward hesitated, grinding his molars, fixing his gaze on Eleanor's eyes, "you and Aaron..."

The wind tousled Eleanor's hair into her face, stinging her cheeks.

The mention of Aaron's name brought a rush of emotion to her eyes. She quickly glanced away, understanding why Edward was so troubled.

"You know." She looked back at him.

She had never figured out how to gently reject Edward; he was a good man, so good she didn’t want to just let him down easy, and today seemed like an inevitable junction.

A frown creased Edward's brow, a sharp pang at the heart.

Time and again, he told himself that last night was perhaps a misunderstanding, that perhaps Aaron's lips had brushed Eleanor’s by accident, but not a thousand excuses could stand against Eleanor's own admission— "You know." —shattering his beliefs in an instant.

"Even if there’s no blood relation, in everyone else's eyes, you are family! How could you..."

Eleanor clenched her fists, only managing a strained, "Hmm. I’ve liked him for many years now, I'm sorry."

"I knew you had someone in your heart, but I never thought it was him." Edward’s voice carried a moment of resignation.

He had fallen for Eleanor at first sight, during one of Grayson's fencing competitions.

Grayson would bring Eleanor to the fencing club during his training, and Edward would watch her from a distance, never daring to draw close.
He'd hinted to Grayson, perhaps inadvertently, perhaps with intent, that he was tired of being single, his anticipation mounting when Grayson offered to set him up with a friend—Eleanor. God knew he couldn't wait.

Grayson had mentioned that Eleanor was hung up on someone else, but he didn't care. He figured that given enough time, he could edge out the competition for her affection.

But now, it seemed not that he couldn't do it, but rather that Eleanor wasn't giving him the chance.

"He's getting engaged, Eleanor. Have you ever thought what kind of situation you're getting yourself into? Doesn't it bother you?"

Eleanor's response was dismissive, as if she didn't have a care in the world. "It doesn't bother me."

"You're wallowing in self-degradation!" Edward hissed, his teeth clenched. Always gentle and polite, this was the first time he'd lost his cool.

She was his first love.

Eleanor's face turned pale, the cold wind lashing at her relentlessly, as if piercing her heart with a thousand arrows. Witnessing the sheer disappointment in Edward's eyes, she felt a short pain would be better than prolonged suffering.

She managed a smile. "Now you see me for who I am, Edward. I'm not as wonderful as you thought. You idealized me. I love Aaron, and I want to be by his side no matter what. I don't care what others think."

Edward held back tears, and chocked out

"Alright."
Fleeing the Embrace of My Obsessed Husband
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