After ending the call, Davis felt conflicted about his sudden decision, even though Jessica had insisted he accept the invitation.
It was clear that they never wanted him, they never regarded him as a member of the family. It was as though, he had been removed from the family tree. Nobody cared if he survived—he wouldn’t doubt it if they planned to drug him to death.
After the betrayal he had decided and ensured to limit his contact with his family. He stared at the phone in his hand, debating whether to call his grandfather back and change his plans. But as his gaze shifted to the shut door of the walk-in closet, he hesitated.
"I think she should have the opportunity to meet them, and the family reunion dinner is the only time they’ll all be present," he mused.
He had once believed his family could stand together in unity, facing challenges side by side. But his accident had stripped away that illusion, revealing the harsh reality. It seemed he had been the only one blind all along. He closed his momentarily to shut off the thoughts that were struggling to spring forth but —the moment Davis closed his eyes, the memories surged back like a violent tide, dragging him into the depths of despair.
The sterile scent of the hospital. The blank canvas that greeted his sight the moment he woke up. The dull ache that spread through his body as he stirred from unconsciousness, the eerily silence that welcomed him back to life proved it all—there is no warmth, no love or care, no familial tie.
Then the bitter truth, the news that he wouldn’t want to revisit. The disappointment from his bride to be, the loss of his leg as the doctor’s voice echoed, the betrayal meted out to him by the people close and dear. The news echoing in his subconscious they have taken away everything....
The pain was enormous and suffocating. His felt his chest tightened, his fingers clenched into fists. He found himself plummeting into an endless abyss, the cold seeping into his bones—His lonely, all lonely in this situation.
...to crown it all his life major decision that has to be his sole responsibility to decide was dictated, a bride he never knew.
Jessica... Jessica, the only name he couldn’t hold a grudge against. He struggled to be free, to feel alive, to feel the need to be wanted...but then betrayal, loss and helplessness.
Davis sucked in a sharp breath, forcing himself back to the present. But even as he sat there, gripping the armrest of his wheelchair, the past still clung to him like a ghost, refusing to let go.
Jessica stepped out of the walk-in closet, dressed in a simple off-white shirt tucked into a pair of comfortable blue jeans. She completed the look with a pair black sneakers, a casual yet an elegant style that effortlessly complemented her figure.
Her hair was neatly tied into a ponytail, giving her a fresh and youthful look. A light makeup so subtle that it was almost unnoticeable, yet was enough to enhance her natural beauty.
She adjusted the hem of her shirt "I’m ready", she said and turned to Davis and her breathe hitched at the sight before her. Panic surged through her as she quickly analyzed the situation before her.
His eyes has lost focus, his knuckles turning white from forcefully gripping the armrest of his wheelchair tightly, his chest rising and falling in an uneven gasps. A deep frown creased his forehead as he clutched it with his right hand due to the pounding headache, his entire body tense.
She reached a conclusion "He’s having an episode." She muttered as she rushed toward him. "Davis?" she called, her voice laced with concern.
"Davis! Davis!!" He called while she pushed him lightly. "Davis, look at me," she urged softly, her voice steady despite the worry gnawing at her.
Hearing the voice around him, Davis felt his consciousness returning , slowly he followed her instructions. Gradually his breathe evened out, his grip loosened, his shoulders sagging as he tried to match her breathing and after while his tensed body relaxed and his unfocuzed clouded gaze flickered back to clarity.
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