“No, I’m fine,” she said, giving him a questioning look as to why he stopped her.
“He’s very… very sick,” Clinton exaggerated. “And I’m not so… good at rubbing his body, like his forehead and cheeks…” he chuckled nervously. “Would you mind doing it? His temperature is really high,” he said, looking at her with pleading eyes.
“Oh, okay, sure, I’ll do it,” she replied innocently, then went back to the bed where the pretending sick Christian lay. She noticed the bowl of water and knelt beside the bed.
Clinton found the sight disturbing. She wasn’t a slave or servant. “I think it’d be more comfortable if you sit beside him on the bed,” he suggested.
“Huh?” Clarisse nearly choked on hearing that. “Me? On the bed? No, I’m good,” she said, backing away.
“You’re his wife, Mrs. Charles, that way you can attend to him very well so he’d feel better.”
Clarisse swallowed hard, blinking rapidly, and stood up slowly. She sat on the bed, not very comfortably at first, but she slowly settled in. “I’m back,” Clinton said as she began to wipe his face and forehead.
“Huh,” she mumbled, not wanting to do it but feeling compelled to. She could only watch as Clinton left, leaving her alone with Christian. Her heart began racing. She wasn’t comfortable being alone with him in the room.
‘Nothing to worry about, Clarisse. He’s sick, he’s asleep, there’s no way he would do anything to you while he’s asleep,’ she thought to herself.
If only she knew.
Clinton returned to the maid’s quarters and spotted Sandra pacing back and forth, muttering to herself as if she was nervous about something.
Sandra was anxious, her nerves on edge. She couldn’t wait for Blue to return with the empty cup of tea, eager to see if her plan had worked.
“What are you doing?”
Sandra jumped at the sound of Clinton’s voice and turned toward him, looking very nervous.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, and just then, she saw Blue approaching and smiled. The cup she held was empty.
After Clinton left, Clarisse resumed mopping Christian’s face. While doing so, her finger brushed the tip of his lips, sending a shiver down her spine. She paused and took a closer look at his face.
‘Even though he’s sick, he’s still handsome,’ she thought to herself, taking her time to study his captivating face. His closed eyes revealed his long eyelashes, his moderately shaped nose, and his well-shaped lips-lips she was tempted to touch. Her heart raced as she remembered what they felt like. She gulped nervously, feeling chills spread throughout her body.
‘What am I thinking?’ she snapped herself back to reality and quickly withdrew her hand. ‘He’s not a good man. He’s just like the others,’ she told herself and attempted to stand up. But then, she felt a sudden grip on her wrist.
“Ha!” she gasped, looking at him, frightened.
“Stay, stay with me,” he said, his eyes still closed. For a few seconds, there was a deathly silence.
“Was he… sleep-talking?” she asked, but not to herself and not to Christian. After a while, there was no movement. She sat back on the bed, concluding that he was indeed sleep-talking. He still didn’t let go of her hand.
She looked at his hand holding hers, remembering every time he extended his hand toward her. Her eyes clouded with tears.
“I hate you so much. I hate everybody. I just want to die. It’s better than being used,” she thought, looking at Christian. “Why? Why are you always reaching out?” she asked aloud, just loud enough for him to hear. “Why are you always holding me? It makes me hate you more. Don’t make me think you can be any different,” she said, sobbing.
Christian felt a sharp stab in his chest. He couldn’t imagine what she must have been through. The little he knew made his blood boil. He knew she was broken, that she didn’t trust anyone, that she didn’t believe in kind gestures, that she didn’t believe in anything. She was clouded with emptiness, anger, and pain.
‘What can I do? What can I do, Ari? To mend your broken heart? What can I do, Ari? To heal your broken soul? What should I do to gain your trust? What should I do to prove that I’ll bring you down the mountain for you?’ Christian thought, remembering the one day he had seen her smile and what she had said to him.
“Hey, kiddo! Always take the hand that reaches out to you.” Her smile had been so broad when she said that, but now, there wasn’t even a trace left of it.
‘I’ll get them back, Ari. Then I’ll tell you who I am,’ he thought to himself.
After Blue showed Clarisse to the room, she returned to the other room to tidy up anything that wasn’t properly arranged. But the place was spotless. She spotted the cup of hot tea on the table and decided to take it back to the kitchen.
“This should not go to waste,” she murmured, drinking the contents before heading to the kitchen.
Sandra was pacing back and forth at the kitchen door, nervous and anxious at the same time. She couldn’t wait for Blue to return and see that her plan had worked. Earlier in the day, she had gone to the pharmacy, intending to do anything and everything to make Clarisse’s life miserable.
(Flashback)
After searching for a while online, she finally found the best choice and headed straight to the pharmacy.
“Hi, good afternoon,” she greeted the man behind the counter.
“Good afternoon, ma’am. How can I help you?” the man asked.
“I want to buy some medicine.”
“Do you have a doctor’s prescription?”
“No, but I have the names.”
“Okay.”
“I want to buy bisacodyl and omeprazole.”
“Both?”
“Yes.”
“Are you the one that wants to use them?”
“Yeah.”
“It’d be advisable to see a doctor. They both have different functions, and they’re not good for the body if consumed at the same time.”
“I know, thank you. One is for me, and the other is for my sister.”
“Oh, I see. A minute, please.”
“Sure,” she replied, eyeing him. “He should just mind his business.” A few minutes later, he returned with the two medications.
“Here,” he said, handing them over to her, and she left after paying.
Sandra laughed happily as she strolled back to the mansion. “Wait for it, Clarisse. You’ll be purging your liver, stooling out your intestines, and worshiping your ancestors if you survive this,” she said, laughing loudly. (Flashback ends)
“What are you doing here?” Clinton asked. “Why aren’t you at work?”
“Umm… I…” Just then, she saw Blue approaching and smiled. “I was waiting for her.”
“Me?” Blue pointed at herself, unsure of what they were talking about.
“Get back to work now,” Clinton commanded. He then went off to check other areas to make sure the cleaning had been done properly.
“What were you talking about?” Blue asked.
“He asked me what I was doing, so I told him I was waiting for you.”
“Waiting for me? Why?”
“To know if the master’s wife likes the tea I made,” Sandra replied, looking at the cup. “I’m so happy. She must love it if she drank it all,” she said, laughing loudly.
Blue cleared her throat awkwardly. Is she really that happy? Oh goodness! She’ll break my head if I tell her that I was the one who drank it, Blue thought to herself. But she had no choice but to tell Sandra the truth.
Just as she was about to speak, Blue’s stomach grumbled, and Sandra heard it.
“Is that your stomach? Are you hungry?” Sandra asked.
“I don’t think so…” Blue murmured.
“Don’t worry,” Sandra laughed. “I know you’re embarrassed. I’ll get you something.” She smiled and left.
“Wait… wait…” Blue tried to tell her she didn’t think it was hunger, but Sandra was already rushing off, leaving her to find the restroom. Meanwhile, Sandra was happily getting some snacks from the other kitchen staff and even tried to sneak some drinks as a thank-you gesture. She couldn’t wait to see Clarisse suffer.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.