Obsession His Runaway Bride (Noelle and Adrian) novel Chapter 84

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Chapter 84 Bitter Taste

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Chapter 84: Bitter Taste

Chapter 84: Bitter Taste

Marco had barely stepped through the door to Grace’s hospital room when the scene before him made his breath hitch.

Grace was sat upright in the hospital bed while her expression was twisted in frustration. Her body was trembling as her hands clawed at the bandages wrapped tightly around her torso. Her movements were erratic and reckless, driven by pain. Her breath came in uneven gasps and her was turning skin pale, yet there was no hesitation in the way she ripped at the bandages, as if the very act of being patched back together was an insult.

The medical staff around her scrambled to stop her.

“Miss Blackwood, stop-

“You need to keep those on-!”

Anurse reached for her wrists, trying to restrain her, but Grace tore her arm free. The doctor stood nearby calling for assistance in an urgent but steady tone. But none of them could get through to her.

“Get off me!” she snarled as her voice cracked from the sheer force of her emotion. Her fingers curled around the edge of the bandage, pulling, tearing. The gauze stretched under her grip, barely holding against her determination.

“Why the fuck did you fix me up?!” Her voice rang through the sterile walls, raw and agonized. “I was supposed to be dead!”

Marco’s blood ran cold.

For a second, he stood frozen while his mind barely processed the words that had just left her lips. His stomach twisted violently and his pulse pounded.

“Grace!” He yelled and shoved past the nurses without a second thought while keeping his entire focus on her. The panic clawing at his ribs was foreign, unfamiliar, but he had no time to acknowledge it. He reached her in seconds, his hands wrapping tightly around her wrists, forcing them away from her wounds before she could do any more damage.

“Enough!” He roared at her.

She flinched slightly and her body stiffened beneath his grip.

Marco stared at her while keeping his grip firm but careful. But the moment her hollow, red–rimmed eyes locked onto his, something cold settled in his chest. There was no warmth, no irritation, just a distant, sharp glare that cut straight through him with an emptiness he had never seen before.

“Which part of ‘do not touch me‘ do you not understand?” Her voice was cold and detached, as if every ounce of feeling had been

drained from her.

For a moment, Marco hesitated. It was a fraction of a second, barely long enough to register. But that moment was all she needed.

Grace yanked her wrist free, tearing herself from his grasp without another word.

And before he could react, before he could stop her from doing anything else reckless, she reached for the IV still embedded in her hand and ripped it out in one swift motion. Blood welled instantly, trailing down her pale skin, but she did not even flinch. The pain should have been sharp, should have made her gasp, but she barely seemed to notice. It was as if the sensation meant nothing to her, as if she had long since stopped feeling it.

Marco barely had time to process what he had just seen before she moved again, pushing herself up from the bed.

“I am out of here. Pay the bills.”

His stomach twisted at the casualness of her words, as if she had not just torn out an IV, as if she was not still bleeding from wounds she refused to acknowledge.

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Chapter 84: Bitter Taste

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‘Grace

He managed to utter but she did not stop.

Her movements were sluggish, showing that her body was clearly exhausted. But her determination did not waver. Every step she took was slow and strained, but she pressed forward regardless, dragging herself toward the door and left.

Silence stretched across the room in her absence,

Marco remained standing there with fists clenched at his sides and jaw locked so tightly it ached. His chest was rising and falling with controlled breaths as though he was about to burst out in anger until the doctor’s quiet sigh broke through the tension in the room.

He barely turned his head and barely acknowledged the presence of the medical staff still standing around him. The nurses had already begun cleaning up the mess Grace had left behind. Used gaze and bloodied IV tubing littered the floor, discarded reminders of her self–destructive defiance.

Marco exhaled sharply, his voice tight and controlled when he finally spoke and turned to face the doctor.

“I apologize. What happened to her?”

He already had a vague idea. He had already pieced together some of the story the moment he saw her, but there were too many gaps. Too many questions without answers. He needed to know everything.

The doctor shook his head slightly, rubbing his temple as he glanced down at the medical chart in his hands. There was a certain exhaustion in his posture, the kind that only came from treating a patient who had no intention of taking care of themselves.

“She had a stab wound,” he began. “A concerned citizen found her bleeding and unconscious in a dark alley. From what we can tell, the wound was deep. If she had not been found in time, she would not have made it.”

Marco’s jaw tightened and his entire body tensed at those last few words.

He had not even realized how tightly his fists had curled until his nails began to dig into his palms.

She had been found bleeding and unconscious. She had been dying in a dark alley, and he had not even known.

Clearly, it was an attempted murder. That was the only explanation. Someone had tried to kill her.

But before he could speak, the doctor continued. His tone shifted slightly, lowering, hesitating for just a moment before

continuing.

“That was not what concerned me the most.”

Marco’s brows furrowed.

The doctor’s hesitation was brief, but it was there. His fingers tapped lightly against the clipboard in his hand, his eyes scanning over the notes as if searching for the right words.

“When we treated her, we found something else. There were lacerations on her wrist. Almost half her arm.”

The doctor sighed before continuing, glancing up from his notes to meet Marco’s gaze directly. “At first, we considered the possibility of suicide attempts… but after examining them closely, that did not seem to be the case.”

Marco’s fingers twitched slightly, his breathing controlled but his pulse far from steady.

“It was not self–harm in the traditional sense… There were too many. Too methodical.”

He exhaled sharply.

“It wasn’t impulsive.” he continued. “The patterns, the depth, the precision–it wasn’t like most self–inflicted injuries we see in cases of suicidal intent. It looked…” The doctor hesitated, his eyes flickering toward Marco before finally saying it. “Like she had done it before. Repeatedly. Almost as if it had become a habit.

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Chapter 84: Bitter Taste

+25 BONUS

A heavy silence instantly filled the space between them.

Marco’s hands loosened slightly before he shoved them into his pockets, forcing himself to keep his expression calm. He did not speak. Did not react. At least, not outwardly. But inside, something was shifting, something that made his stomach twist in a way he could not ignore.

Because he had already seen those cuts earlier today but not the faced scars beneath the fresh ones. There were times he had glimpsed the way her sleeves had always seemed just a little too long, the way she always dismissed pain as if it was nothing.

If only he had known…

No.

If he had known, what would he have done?

Would he have stopped her? Would he have cared enough to ask, to demand answers, to pull her out of whatever darkness had consumed her? Would he have even tried?

Or would he have looked the other way, just as he always had?

Because deep inside, in the part of himself he refused to acknowledge, he knew the truth.

He had wished it was her who died instead of Faith.

Faith whom he dearly loved.

And that single, damning thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.

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