The Scar He Left: Finding True Love

Aminda POV

The overhead fluorescent lights were aggressive, searing against my retinas.

I sat perched on the edge of the hospital bed, a bandage wound tight around my head. My suitcase sat by the door, a silent sentinel.

Jayden had retrieved it for me. My flight was in four hours.

The door clicked open.

I braced myself for a nurse.

Instead, it was Colton.

He was still wearing his tuxedo, though the tie was undone-a rare sign of disarray. He didn't look worried. He looked irritated.

"You're causing a scene," he said, shutting the door firmly behind him. "Leaving in the middle of the night? Really?"

I stared at him. My head pounded in rhythm with my heartbeat.

"I'm not on your payroll anymore, Colton. I don't answer to you."

He stepped closer, and his scent-sandalwood and expensive scotch-flooded the small, sterile room. It used to be my favorite smell. Now, it made my stomach turn.

"Charlie is distraught," he said. "She thinks you hate her."

"I don't hate her," I said, my voice flat. "I don't care enough about her to hate her."

"She sent you this." He gestured to a styrofoam bowl on the tray table. "Gourmet broth. Straight from the hotel chef. She wanted to make peace."

"I don't want it."

"Stop acting like a child," Colton snapped. "She didn't have to do this, especially after you tried to drag her into the pond."

"I didn't-" I started, then stopped. What was the point? He had already rewritten history in his head to protect his perfect reunion.

The door swung open again.

Charlie breezed in, looking immaculate. Not a hair out of place.

"Colty," she whined, latching onto his arm. "Is she accepting my apology? Even though she was the one who terrified me?"

She looked at me, her gaze sliding to the soup. "Oh, you haven't touched it. Are you afraid I poisoned it?"

She let out a giggle that sounded like shattering glass.

"She's just being stubborn," Colton said, dismissing me.

Charlie wandered over to the bedside table. "And look, I brought back the little wooden box you left in the cottage. The one Colton's dad made?"

She held up the intricately carved box. It was the only thing Colton had left of his father. I had spent months carefully humidifying the wood to keep it from cracking.

"Oops," Charlie said.

She opened her hand.

The box hit the linoleum floor.

It shattered into three distinct pieces.

"No!" I gasped, instinctively reaching out.

"You clumsy bitch!" Charlie shrieked, pointing a manicured finger at me. "You knocked it out of my hand!"

It was a lie so blatant, so stupid, I couldn't believe anyone would buy it.

Colton stared down at the broken wood. His face went pale, then flushed a deep, angry red. That box was sacred to him.

"I didn't touch it," I said, panic rising in my voice.

"She did!" Charlie cried, tears instantly welling in her eyes. "She slapped my hand! And she told me she hoped the soup was poison so she could sue us!"

Colton looked at me. His eyes were black holes.

"You broke my father's box?" His voice was a low, dangerous growl.

"Colton, she dropped it. She's lying."

"Why would she break it?" he roared. "You're the one who's jealous! You're the one trying to ruin tonight!"

He grabbed the bowl of soup. It was steaming hot.

"You think this is poison?" he yelled, looking completely unhinged. "You think Charlie is the villain? Eat it!"

"Colton, don't." I shrank back against the pillows.

"Eat it!"

He grabbed my jaw with one hand, his fingers digging brutally into my cheeks, forcing my mouth open. With the other hand, he rammed the spoon into my mouth.

The soup was scalding.

It burned my tongue, searing the roof of my mouth. I choked, coughing violently.

He didn't stop.

He shoved another spoonful in. "Swallow it! Prove you're not crazy!"

Liquid splashed onto my chin, dripping down my hospital gown. It blistered my skin on contact.

I gagged, flailing my arms, trying to push him away. My head wound throbbed, sending spikes of white-hot agony through my skull.

I couldn't breathe. I was drowning again, but this time in heat and humiliation.

He finally let go.

I collapsed forward, coughing up broth and blood. The hot liquid had blistered my lip.

Colton stood back, breathing hard, the spoon still clutched in his hand. He looked down at me with unadulterated disgust.

"You're pathetic," he spat. "You're not the woman who helped me heal. You're a monster."

"Colty, let's go," Charlie whispered, tugging at his arm. A smirk played on her lips, visible only to me. "She's dangerous."

"You're right," Colton said. He turned to me. "Get out of my city. If I see you again, I'll ruin you."

He turned to leave.

The door burst open.

Jayden and Isaias stood there.

They took it all in. The broken box. The soup soaking my gown. The blood dripping from my lip where the spoon had cut me.

Jayden's face went deadly, terrifyingly calm.

"What did you do?" Jayden asked, his voice trembling with suppressed rage.

Colton straightened his jacket, composing himself.

"I taught her a lesson."