"Ow."
"Oh... I'm sorry, does that hurt?"
"Yes." He replies in irritation.
"Oh- okay. Then let me do it again." I press the massive bruise on his arm.
"AH!"
"Did that hurt too?"
He looks at me in exasperation. "How many times do you want me to say, I'm sorry?! I already apologised to you for getting into this mess."
I poke the bruise beneath his eye making him hiss in pain. "You haven't apologised enough."
"Stop."
"No. Not until I feel like it."
"For the millionth time, Ayla... I'm sorry for not being more aware of my surroundings and getting drugged by a complete stranger." Ryler says as if he were a 12 year old boy.
"And you know how you could've prevented that from happening?"
He sighs in defeat. "It wouldn't have happened if I didn't go to Wiz Khalifa's after-party which still went on at 5 in the morning. Yes, and I've already apologised for that too."
He was being obedient and listened to what I said because he knows that without me... he wouldn't have been alive. And I'm not even exaggerating.
The doctor said that he received 16 stitches for his stomach, 6 stitches on his forehead and a cast for his broken wrist aside from dark purple bruises covering a huge percentage of his body.
The paramedic that helped him, told me that if he came any later than the time I brought him in, he would've gone unconscious and slowly bled to death.
When Ryler found out about this after he woke up, he apologised pathetically and went quiet afterwards.
Of course the videos of his car crash and me helping him at the scene went viral and journalists published stories of a 'secret love' while reporters spoke about how he called me his wife. Some videos and photos got me helping him to the car and others were of me ripping my shirt to help stop his blood.
When I watched the videos, I silently thanked no one in particular when I realised the footages didn't exactly catch my entire face. Since I was facing his car when I helped him, the camera only got my hair which covered majority of my face. Even when I helped him to my car, you could barely see my face again because of either Ryler's arm over my shoulders or because my face was buried in his side due to how heavy he was and how I struggled lifting him.
It's only been two days since he'd gotten surgery and I've been playing 'torture-the-idiot' since then.
All of a sudden, the door opened drawing my attention away from the stupid patient.
It was my mom and Fayne.
"Ms. Ayla!" Fayne shoots me a smile. "Have you been here long?"
With an innocent grin, I poke another one of Ryler's many bruises and feel the victorious satisfaction when he winces. "Not long enough."
"Too long." He seethes at me with a glare. "She's been making my injuries worse."
Faynes smile dropped into a straight line as she looked at him. "Well, that's your fault."
"Why is everyone always taking her side?!" He complains relentlessly.
"Because you deserve it." Fayne and I say in unison.
My mother pulls a chair over beside me and sits. "I think it's best you leave him alone now, Ayla. He needs to rest if he wants to recover faster."
YOU ARE READING
His Hidden Marriage
Dla nastolatków"I do." He answered in a monotone. It was to be expected from the boy who was forced into this marriage agreement at the age of 15. He could at least smile a little since we were on the same boat here. But it was hilarious really; not one person i...
