Kidnapped to love

chapter 43

A girl in a faded hospital gown drifted down the road, her bare feet skimming over the cracked asphalt, unbothered by the honking cars swerving around her. She clutched a wilting rose in her hand, plucking its petals one by one, murmuring softly to herself, "He loves me… he loves me not… he loves me…"

Lost in her world, she paid no mind to the angry shouts and honking horns. Her eyes were glazed over, and her delicate lips trembled as if caught between joy and sorrow. A single tear traced down her cheek, glinting in the sunlight, though her fingers kept tearing petals in a rhythmic trance.

A silver car screeched to a halt just inches away from her. The driver stepped out, a young man with an incredulous look on his face, his heart still pounding from the near miss. "Are you crazy?" he called out, approaching her. "You almost got hit!"

But she didn’t respond, her focus unwavering as she plucked the final petal. Her breath hitched, her face crumpling. "He loves her, not me…" she whispered, her voice breaking.

“Are you even listening to me?” he yelled in anger

The man’s anger faded as looked up. She was breathtaking—pale, fragile, with an ethereal glow that seemed to belong to another world. Her hair framed her face in soft, disheveled waves, and her skin looked as delicate as porcelain under the sun. She gazed at him, her wide, innocent eyes filled with tears, and his heart tightened.

"He loves her, not me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, her gaze dropping to the crushed rose in her hands. There was a sadness in her words that felt endless, a heartbreak he could almost feel himself.

She looked at him again, her eyes full of raw vulnerability. Then, as if drawn by some invisible force, she took a small step forward and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face to his chest. He froze, his breath catching at her touch, the unexpected warmth of her embrace making his heart pound.

"He lied to me," she murmured, her voice muffled. "He told me he loved me. But he loves her… he loves her… not me…" Her words were broken, and he could feel her shoulders trembling.

Before he could respond, a group of people hurried down the street toward them, a woman at the lead looking frantic. "Oh my god, there you are!" the woman gasped, rushing forward.

“Please, let her go,” the woman said urgently, signaling the guards who moved to separate them.

"No! He doesn’t love me… he loves her!" the girl cried, tightening her hold on him, her fingers digging into his shirt as she sobbed. Her voice was filled with a desperation that pulled at his heart.

The young man put up a hand to stop the guards, his gaze flickering between the girl and the woman. “Who are you?” he asked, his voice protective.

“I’m her mother,” the woman replied, her face a mixture of exhaustion and sadness. “Please, she needs help. We’ve been looking for her everywhere.”

The guards moved in again, gentler this time, trying to coax her away. She clung to him, resisting their pull. “He doesn’t love me… he doesn’t…” she whispered one last time, her voice breaking as they finally managed to free her from his arms.

They led her toward a car, her cries soft but haunting, echoing in the young man’s ears as he watched them go. Just before they shut the door, she looked back at him, her tear-streaked face framed by the car window, her eyes locked onto his as if reaching out for something she couldn’t grasp.

“Elijah!” His friend’s voice called from the car, breaking his trance. Elijah blinked, still rooted in place as the car carrying her disappeared down the road, her final tear-stained glance etched in his mind.