Chapter 5
11 Vinters
Sylvie lay in a pool of blood, her vision fading in and out.
Through the haze, she saw Alaric shielding Clarisse in his arms, and a lifetime of memories flashed before her eyes.
The first time they met, his gaze behind those gold–rimmed glasses had been been cold as ice.
When they clashed, she’d once poured salt into his coffee, but he drank it down without so much as a flinch.
The first time he pinned her against his office desk, she bit his shoulder so hard it broke the skin.
As time went on, she fell for him–so deeply that she decorated an entire villa for his birthday, only to be greeted with rumors of him and Clarisse…
And then there was the night she walked five kilometers alone to the cemetery to visit Paige, her heels rubbing blisters raw on her feet.
Alaric had found her, quietly slipped off her ruined shoes, carried them in one hand, and given her a piggyback ride all the way home.
She’d cried into his neck, thinking, “If I could walk through life like this, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.”
After Paige passed, someone finally brought her home again.
But in the end, every memory dissolved into that single image–Alaric holding Clarisse, protecting her.
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***
Beep, beep, beep!
The sound of medical equipment pulled Sylvie back to the present.
She opened her eyes slowly, just in time to hear Clarisse’s tearful voice drifting from the next room.
“It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have argued with Sylvie in the street… I just wanted to give her a ride home… Alaric, why did you save me first?
Sylvie will be so angry when she finds out…”
ン
Alaric gently wiped away her tears. “It wasn’t your fault,” he said softly- the kind of tenderness Sylvie had never heard from him.
“If I had to do it all over again, I’d still save you first,” he murmured. “Your health is fragile. I couldn’t let you get hurt.”
He paused, then added, “Besides, she has no reason to be angry.”
Sylvie’s chest tightened, as if an invisible hand was wringing her heart.
“Of course. Who am I to Alaric, anyway? What right do I have to be angry? Whom he saves, whom he doesn’t–that is his choice alone.”
“Stop crying. Go home and get some rest,” Alaric soothed her.
He kept comforting her in that gentle tone until Clarisse finally left.
Once the door closed, Alaric turned back–only to realize Sylvie was already awake, watching him quietly.
He showed no guilt, his expression calm as ever. “It’s just a flesh wound. But I know you’re vain and afraid of pain, so I called in the best medical team. There won’t be any scars.”
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11
In the past, Sylvie would have cried and thrown a fit, demanding to know why he saved Clarisse first.
But now, she just replied calmly, “I understand. Thank you. I’ll pay you back for the medical bills in two weeks.”
Alaric’s brow furrowed slightly, surprised by her gratitude.
And why did she keep mentioning “two weeks“?
He didn’t ask, chalking it up to her usual spoiled attitude and sarcastic streak.
***
For the next few days, Alaric–uncharacteristically–put all his work on hold to stay at the hospital and care for her.
Strangely, Sylvie no longer clung to him or made a scene.
She quietly accepted her treatments, quietly ate, and slept–so quiet it unsettled him.
“Still mad at me?” Alaric finally asked while sitting with her during an IV drip.
“Mad about what?”
“Mad that I didn’t save you that day.” He hesitated. “It made sense for me to save Clarisse first. She and I…‘
Before Alaric could finish, a commotion erupted in the hallway.
“What’s going on?” a nurse rushed by.
“I heard the Ainsley Group CEO’s stepdaughter fell down the stairs,” another whispered. “Just brought her into the ER. Mr. Ainsley looked
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Chapter 5
In the past, Sylvie would have cried and thrown a fit, demanding to know why he saved Clarisse first.
But now, she just replied calmly, “I understand. Thank you. I’ll pay you back for the medical bills in two weeks.”
Alaric’s brow furrowed slightly, surprised by her gratitude.
And why did she keep mentioning “two weeks“?
He didn’t ask, chalking it up to her usual spoiled attitude and sarcastic streak.
***
For the next few days, Alaric–uncharacteristically–put all his work on hold to stay at the hospital and care for her.
Strangely, Sylvie no longer clung to him or made a scene.
She quietly accepted her treatments, quietly ate, and slept–so quiet it
unsettled him.
“Still mad at me?” Alaric finally asked while sitting with her during an IV drip.
“Mad about what?”
“Mad that I didn’t save you that day.” He hesitated. “It made sense for me to save Clarisse first. She and I…”
Before Alaric could finish, a commotion erupted in the hallway.
“What’s going on?” a nurse rushed by.
“I heard the Ainsley Group CEO’s stepdaughter fell down the stairs,” another whispered. “Just brought her into the ER. Mr. Ainsley looked
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Chapter 5
terrified–he carried her in himself. Honestly, a man who treats his stepdaughter so well is rare…”
Sylvie glanced at Alaric, catching the subtle shift in his expression.
“I have something to do,” he said, standing up, more hurried than usual. “I’ll check on you later.”
Sylvie watched him rush away, knowing exactly where he was headed.
She closed her eyes, exhaustion washing over her, her heart feeling utterly hollow.
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