Chapter 115 Who Is She?
Edward lay on the bed, looking like a stiff breeze could blow him away. His face was ghostly pale, and the healthy glow he once had was long gone. His breathing was shallow and shaky, with a few messy strands of hair clinging to his forehead, making him look even more fragile.
He was shirtless, wrapped in thick bandages that were stained with blood in some spots. Despite that, his well-defined muscles could still be seen. But the sight of the blood seeping through the bandages was like a knife to my heart. His arm hung limply off the side of the bed, an IV line stuck in the back of his hand, the clear liquid dripping down with a soft, rhythmic sound. It was like a silent reminder of the pain he was going through.
The room was filled with medical equipment, their lights blinking and beeping like anxious guardians, constantly reminding me that Edward was still in danger. The once lively Edward now lay so fragile in that hospital bed. Seeing him like that made it hard to breathe; my heart ached.
I stood quietly at the doorway, my emotions all tangled up, and the room felt so heavy it was almost suffocating. Just then, it was like Aria had this sixth sense. She looked up, her gaze moving between me and Edward, like she understood the awkwardness in the room.
She gave a gentle smile, warm and natural, like a breath of fresh air. "I'll go see if Anne needs any help," she said lightly.
I watched Aria, feeling a mix of confusion and gratitude. How did she always know? My eyes were glued to her face, searching for answers. Her eyes seemed to say she understood my struggles. A humble smile played on her lips, adding to her warm demeanor. I was grateful for her graceful exit, giving Edward and me a rare moment alone.
Aria turned gracefully, her simple off-white dress fluttering like a soft cloud. She paused at the doorway, the dress hugging her slender waist and highlighting her elegant figure. Her long hair cascaded over her shoulders like a waterfall, shimmering softly under the light, giving her an almost ethereal glow. She turned to look at Edward and me, her eyes carrying a knowing look. "You two have a good talk! But remember, Mrs. Clara Howard will be back by noon, so don't let her catch you." With that, she smiled and left.
The room fell silent, leaving just Edward and me. My heart pounded like a drum, my brows furrowed, and my eyes filled with tension and unease, like a string ready to snap. Amidst this tension, there was also a faint hope, like a weak beam of light trying to pierce through the fog.
The room smelled faintly of disinfectant, a scent that was sharp yet oddly comforting. Sunlight streamed through the white curtains, casting soft shadows. I slowly walked to the bedside, each step heavy with thoughts. My gaze fixed on Edward, who lay there quietly, his face pale as if all life had drained from him. I reached out with a trembling hand, wanting to touch him but hesitating, afraid to disturb the fragile peace. My fingers trembled slightly before my fingertips finally came to rest gently on Edward's chest, feeling his weak but steady heartbeat—so faint, yet a spark of hope.
I sat quietly by the bed, listening to Edward's labored breathing, which sounded particularly clear in the quiet room. Each breath seemed like a struggle and a testament to his will to live. Looking at the frail Edward, I felt that my heart was flooded with a thousand words, yet I didn't know where to begin. Time seemed to stand still with just the two of us. The room was so quiet we could almost hear each other's heartbeats. I sat by Edward's bed, my gaze fixed on him. Edward's eyes were gently closed, and his long eyelashes trembled slightly, like an injured butterfly struggling to flutter.
My fingers lightly traced the bandages on his abdomen, my touch extremely gentle, afraid of causing him pain. After a while, Edward slowly opened his eyes. I lowered my head slightly, my hands nervously twisting together, occasionally glancing at him. He still lay on the hospital bed, his face pale, his eyes filled with fatigue and helplessness. His lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but no words came out.
For a long time, the room was filled with heavy silence.
Edward finally spoke in a hoarse voice, "How long have you been here?"
I was taken aback by his words. Then, I softly replied, "Just got here." The room fell silent again.
"Diana, did you overhear my conversation with Aria outside the door?" Edward's voice was weak, yet it was like a stone thrown into the lake of my heart, causing ripples.
I was momentarily speechless, not knowing how to respond. My hands twisted together unconsciously, my heart filled with panic. After a moment of silence, I decided to speak up. "Edward, whether I overheard or not, I need to ask you—are you hiding something from me?"
I stared intently at his pale face, my eyes filled with confusion and unease. I desperately sought answers in his expression, like a person groping in the dark, longing for a glimmer of light.
Edward frowned slightly, not answering me right away, his expression becoming more complicated. We stared at each other, the tension in the room growing thicker. My heart pounded like a drum as I wondered if he was really hiding something from me. I anxiously awaited Edward's answer, with each second feeling like an eternity.
Edward coughed lightly and turned his head away, a hint of helplessness in the movement. "Diana, I'm not hiding anything from you," he said, his voice still weak but stubborn.
I stared intently at him, clearly not believing his words. "Then can you tell me now, who exactly is she?" I frowned slightly, slowly extending my finger to point in the direction where Aria had left.
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