Chapter 14
The room was pitch black when a figure suddenly bolted upright in
bed.
Joanna gasped for breath, her chest heaving as sweat drenched her
forehead and soaked into the pillow.
The bedroom door creaked open, and in the next moment, the lights
flicked on.
George crossed the room quickly and pulled her into his arms. His
palm rested gently against her back in a quiet, steady rhythm meant
to soothe.
Joanna trembled violently, her whole body shaking as sweat poured
down her face and neck.
But George didn’t flinch. He just held her quietly, offering what little peace he could until her ragged breathing started to slow.
Joanna slowly looked up, her blurred vision finally settling on his
face. Then she looked away and dropped her head.
She whispered hoarsely, “I’m sorry. I’m bothering you again.”
“It’s fine. Another nightmare?” he said, his voice soft with concern.
“Did you take your medication today?”
Joanna was still in a daze, her movements slow as she reached
under her pillow for the pill bottle.
When she unscrewed the cap and saw it was empty, her shoulders.
slumped.
“I ran out. I forgot to buy more,” she said like a guilty student caught
cheating on a test.
George’s gaze darkened with worry. “I’ll get it.”
He gave her damp hair a gentle pat before walking out of the room.
Moments later, he returned with a new bottle in hand.
George kept copies of everything–Joanna’s prescriptions, her medical records, even the list of things her doctors said she needed
to avoid.
Joanna’s mental state had been unstable. Some days, she was
spaced out and silent. Other days, she would break down and sob
uncontrollably.
George had canceled all his business trips. He worked from home just to stay by her side.
He could still remember the day he picked her up at the airport.
Joanna had arrived on a stretcher, barely conscious. She was rushed straight from the terminal to the emergency room. Blood had soaked through her clothes, the sight searing itself into his mind.
Andrea had fainted on the spot, but it wasn’t out of concern for her daughter.
She was terrified that if Joanna died, the marriage alliance between
Chapter 14
the Malone and Schuman families would fall apart.
It wasn’t until George swore repeatedly that he would take care of Joanna no matter what, that Andrea finally calmed down.
Joanna eventually woke up, but the damage was deep. Her trauma
left fractures across her mind, fragile and unpredictable.
George was the one who sat with her through every silent hour, every
meltdown, every moment she drifted further from herself.
But in Joanna’s world, she was always alone.
Most of the time, she would just sit in silence, unmoving for hours.
She would spend the entire day like that, staring into space and being
unresponsive to others.
Andrea grew increasingly exhausted watching her like that. When
George offered to take Joanna home to recover, Andrea happily rushed to pack up her daughter’s things. She couldn’t wait for Joanna
to leave with George.
Though the Malone and Schuman families had privately arranged their engagement, it hadn’t been announced publicly. Even living under the same roof, George remained respectful and never crossed
any lines.
Under George’s careful attention, Joanna gradually began to improve. At the very least, she could now listen to people again, sometimes even hold a conversation.
But she remained constantly on guard, keeping everyone at arm’s length–everyone except George. He was the only person she didn’t
shut out.
He brought her a glass of water and held it out. Joanna reached for it. without hesitation. The movement was instinctive now, as if her body had grown used to his quiet care.
After she drank, George came back with a towel and gently wiped her
face. She blinked slowly and looked up at him, dazed.
She murmured, “Thank you. I can do it myself.”
George wrapped his hand around hers. “Just rest. I’ll take you to the
park tomorrow.”
For some reason, George’s voice always had a calming effect on her.
The moment she heard it, she felt safe again. She gave a soft nod.
George pulled a fresh set of sleepwear from the closet–the ones he
had recently bought for her–and placed them neatly by her bed.
As he turned to leave, her soft voice called out again. “Thank you.”
His chest tightened. This version of Joanna–quiet, gentle, and broken
-made his heart ache.
