Charles finally pulled her off me, his voice sharp.
"Enough! Stop it. I'm taking Abigail home. If you keep this up, something serious is going to happen."
"For your sake, I'll spare her life."
Freya let out a cold laugh.
"But if I catch her pulling something like this again, I won't be so forgiving."
I watched, helpless, as Charles took the evidence from me.
In that moment, every last shred of hope shattered.
I was like a hollow shell as he helped me back to the room.
"Does it hurt?"
His tone carried a note of reproach.
"You're so stubborn. Let me put some ointment on that."
The concern in his eyes didn't look fake.
He carefully lifted my shirt and applied the medicine with gentle hands.
A few days ago, I never would have believed he could hurt me like this for someone else.
But the reality was right in front of me.
The one who loved me—it was him.
The one who hurt me—also him.
Maybe, if I just told him the truth, things wouldn't have to end this way.
Clinging to that last desperate hope, I looked steadily at Charles.
"Do you know? Five years ago, I was actually the one who—"
The phone on the dresser buzzed relentlessly.