Chapter Thirty Nine: Guilty And Regret

Monday arrived faster than Maxwell expected, bringing with it a heavy, humid atmosphere that clung to the city. The weather did little to alleviate the tension that Maxwell felt as he stepped into the hospital, his mind still haunted by the violent incident that had occurred weeks ago. He had been so certain that Amelia was dead—her lifeless body in a pool of blood was an image that had burned itself into his memory. He had been too frightened to follow up, too scared to find out whether she had survived. And now, as he walked through the corridors of the hospital, a sense of dread gnawed at him.


Severely, he had wanted to check her after he left her house that day but he couldn't risk anyone knowing that he was anywhere close to her.
The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed softly, casting a cold, sterile glow on the white-tiled floor. Nurses and doctors moved around him, their footsteps echoing off the walls, their faces obscured by masks and preoccupied with the demands of a busy hospital morning. Maxwell moved through the familiar chaos, trying to maintain his composure. He couldn't afford to let anyone know that he as disturbed.

He reached his office, his hands shaking slightly as he unlocked the door. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the anxiety knitting within him. He couldn't let anyone see how rattled he was. Maxwell was a senior doctor here, a man of authority and respect. He couldn't afford to let anyone suspect that he was anything less than in control. Or he had attempted murder.

As he settled into his chair, he tried to push thoughts of Amelia out of his mind. He had more pressing matters to attend to—patients to see, reports to write. But even as he reviewed his notes and planned his day, he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that hung over him.

Suddenly, there was a soft knock on his door. Before he could respond, the door opened, and there she was—Amelia. Alive and well, standing in the doorway as if nothing had happened. Maxwell felt his blood run cold.

Amelia stepped into the room, her presence commanding and unyielding. She looked healthier than he had ever seen her—there was a brightness in her eyes, a strength in her posture that seemed almost unnatural given what she had been through. Maxwell's heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing with questions and fears.

"Good morning, Maxwell," she said, her voice calm and steady. She could see the shock on his face, and a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Surprised to see me?"

Maxwell struggled to find his voice. "Amelia... I—" he stuttered, unable to say a sentence.

She took a step closer, her smile widening. "I'm not a ghost, Maxwell. I'm very much alive."

Her words sent shivers down his spine. He felt a wave of terror wash over him, his hands clenching the edges of his desk. "How... How are you here?"

Amelia raised an eyebrow, as if amused by his question. "It's a long story. But let's just say, I had a little help." Her eyes narrowed slightly, her gaze piercing through him. "You look like you've seen a ghost." She teased him.

Maxwell swallowed hard, trying to regain his composure. "I thought... I thought you were dead."

"Clearly, you were mistaken," she replied, her tone icy. She leaned against his desk, her eyes never leaving his. "You must have been very scared, Maxwell. Scared enough not to check if I survived."

Maxwell's mind raced. He felt trapped, cornered by her presence. "I... I was afraid. I didn't know what to do."

Amelia's smile faded, replaced by a look of cold determination. "You tried to kill me, Maxwell. And now, you have to live with the consequences of your actions."

He felt a surge of panic. She could destroy him with a single word, report him to the head doctor, and his career—his life—would be over. "Amelia, please," he pleaded. "Don't report me. I'll do anything."

She tilted her head slightly, considering his words. "You think I'm going to let you off that easily? After what you did to me?"

Amelia was happy, happy to see the terror in his eyes but for her, it wasn't enough for what he put her and Jonah through.

Maxwell felt a lump in his throat. "I was desperate. I didn't know what else to do."

"Desperation is no excuse for violence," she said sharply. "You attacked me, left me for dead. And now you expect me to just forget about it?"

"I... I don't know what to say," Maxwell stammered. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry isn't enough," Amelia replied. "But I'll give you a chance to make things right."

He looked at her, hope flickering in his eyes. "What do you want me to do?"

"First, you need to understand that I have no intention of letting you ruin my life," she said. "I came here today to show you that I survived, that you didn't win. And now, you need to live with the knowledge that you failed."

Maxwell felt a crushing weight settle on his chest. "What do you want from me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Amelia straightened up, her expression resolute. "I want you to keep your distance from me. I don't want you anywhere near me or my work. And if I hear even a whisper that you're plotting against me again, I will report you to the head doctor. Understood?"

He nodded quickly, relief mingling with fear. "Yes. I understand."

"Good," she said, her tone softening slightly. "Consider this your second chance, Maxwell. Don't waste it." She said and walked out of his office.

She barely walked a few steps when she was held back in her tracks, she turned to ascertain what she felt and she was filled with rage upon her confirmation.