Hate to love S2

12.

3rd person PoV
A lady passed by the jail, her presence commanding attention despite her attempts at anonymity. Her face was partially obscured by a mask, preventing recognition. As she approached Kirk, a cold aura surrounded her. Kirk's eyes lit up with a malicious gleam as she drew near. The lady's voice was icy as she spoke, "My son, I've secured your bail. It's time for you to exact your revenge. Don't let Becky escape this time. Also, there's some good news—she's recently been in an accident, so she's vulnerable."

She winked at him conspiratorially. Kirk's smirk widened. The thought of abusing the spoiled brat who had sent him to jail for supposedly doing nothing was exhilarating. Now that Becky was weak, he could finally take advantage of her.

As they walked out of the jail together, the lady headed towards her car, casting a final glance back at Kirk. He watched her leave, his mind already formulating his plan. For the next week, Kirk stayed hidden in a secret location, meticulously plotting his next move. He knew Becky had been discharged from the hospital and was now recovering at home. The thought of her vulnerable state made him smirk with anticipation as he envisioned his revenge.

Becky's PoV

It had been a week since the accident, and I still couldn't believe the way things had changed. I never imagined I'd be lying in a hospital bed, recovering from a head injury with my leg suspended, feeling so vulnerable and exposed. But even more unbelievable was the person who had been by my side every single day: Freen.

From the moment I woke up in the hospital, Freen had been there. She hadn't left my side for even a moment, always ready with a comforting word or a gentle touch. She held my hand through the pain and the confusion, and it was her voice that reassured me when I was too scared to face the reality of my injuries. Her presence was like a soothing balm to my battered soul.

Freen was different. She was different from my parents, who had always been too wrapped up in their own lives and problems to notice me. She was different from the few friends I had, who seemed more interested in what I could do for them than in actually caring about me. Freen was here, truly here, and that meant everything to me.

She helped me with the smallest of tasks, things that I usually took for granted but now struggled with. She'd cut my food into small pieces and feed me, always with a smile. I could see the fatigue in her eyes, but she never complained, never hesitated. Each gesture, each act of kindness, felt like a revelation.

One morning, as the first rays of sunlight filtered through the hospital blinds, I found myself watching Freen sleep. She was slumped in the chair next to my bed, her hand still holding mine even in her sleep. My heart ached at the sight. I had never had anyone care for me like this. It was such a foreign feeling, but it was a feeling I never wanted to lose.

I felt a lump form in my throat as I thought about how she had been there every time I woke up in pain or confusion. How she had patiently explained the doctors' updates, even when I was too groggy to understand. How she had made sure I was comfortable, her own needs always secondary. It was overwhelming.

I never knew I could feel this way. For so long, I had built walls around my heart, protecting myself from the pain of being neglected, ignored. But Freen was breaking through those walls, one act of kindness at a time. And I couldn't help but let her in.

My parents visited, but it was different. Their visits were filled with awkward silences and strained smiles. They asked about my health, but it felt like a formality. They were present physically, but their minds were elsewhere. It made me realize how different Freen's care was—genuine, heartfelt, unwavering.

As Freen stirred and opened her eyes, she caught me staring. She smiled, and my heart skipped a beat. "Good morning," she said softly, squeezing my hand.

"Good morning," I replied, my voice a little shaky. "Thank you, Freen. For everything."

"You don't need to thank me, Becky. I'm just glad you're getting better."

But I did need to thank her. I needed her to know how much it meant to me. "No, really. No one's ever taken care of me like this before. It means a lot."

She looked at me, her eyes softening. "You deserve to be cared for, Becky. Don't ever think otherwise."

In that moment, something shifted inside me. I felt a warmth spreading through my chest, a connection forming that I hadn't expected. I realized that I had grown attached to Freen, more than I thought possible. And for the first time in a long time, I felt like I wasn't alone. Freen was here, and she cared. That was all I needed.

..............