Weight of Words Untold

I collapsed by the roadside, the chill biting through my bones.

Someone nudged me, lifting me gently into their arms.

"Veronica… Veronica…"

I could barely tell if it was Dean or Fred.

When I slowly opened my eyes, I was met with a stranger's face.

It was then I realized it was all just my imagination.

I touched my face and forehead, feeling like they were boiling with fever.

The blood smeared all over my face startled a kind-hearted passerby, who had woken me.

With every ounce of strength, I pushed myself up, my head feeling as heavy as a lead ball.

The passerby asked if I needed an ambulance, but I shook my head, declining his offer.

I forced my battered body to make it to the hospital on my own.

As dawn broke, warmth began to seep into my frozen limbs.

After registering with a few other doctors, I sat quietly waiting.

When Keith White spotted me sitting alone on a bench in the corridor, confusion spread across his face. "Why are you sitting here? Are you not feeling well?"

I looked up at him, a bit sheepish. "I have a fever. I just need a prescription."

"Come on. Let me take a look."

Seeing that I didn't move, he stopped and asked, "What's wrong?"

"I registered with other doctors. It's nothing serious. I just need some cold medicine."

"Veronica!"

Seeing the anger flash in his eyes made me finally get up and follow him inside.

I just didn't want to trouble him; every time I visited Keith, he either waived the consultation fee or fronted my medication costs. I owed him too much already and was afraid I wouldn't be able to repay him before I died.

After assessing my condition, Keith's brows knitted together. His tone turned serious. "It's getting worse. You should check in to the hospital."

I registered my appointment with him on my phone, trying to sound nonchalant. "No need. It's not like it can be cured anyway. I might as well make some money first.

"Dr. White, can you prescribe me something to stop the bleeding? It seems like it's happening more often lately."

Keith fell silent, knowing my situation well. I could see the corners of his eyes redden, and he turned his head away for a moment before speaking again.

"You still need to be hospitalized. Don't worry about the money; I—"

"Maybe next time," I interrupted, not letting him finish.

His mouth opened and closed, unable to find the words for a while.

Eventually, I broke the heavy silence. "Dr. White, you mentioned introducing me to a case. Can I still take it?"

He rejected me immediately. "You shouldn't work in your condition."

I had to plead with him for a while before he reluctantly agreed to send me the contact information for his friend.

Seeing the concern in his eyes, I reassured him, "Don't worry. I'll do my best to help your friend win this case."

After thinking for a moment, I knew what he was worried about and promised again, "As soon as I make some money, I'll check into the hospital."

The last couple of weeks had gone smoothly; Keith's friend's case was easy to handle with solid evidence. In just a week, it would be settled.

As I looked at the remaining balance in my bank account, I knew it was because of Keith's trust in me.

So, I called to invite Keith to dinner, wanting to express my gratitude properly.

At the restaurant, I coincidentally ran into his colleagues, and we ended up sharing a table.

Just as everyone settled in, someone walked in from outside. I looked up and saw Dean.

He glanced at me, his expression unreadable, and pulled out a chair to sit down.

He was friends with the head of Keith's department, but there was a noticeable hostility in his gaze when he looked at Keith.

During the meal, Keith shielded me from drinking, while Dean insisted.

"Ms. Byrd, I remember you have a good tolerance. Why aren't you playing along today?"

Keith's face darkened as he declined for me. "She can't drink."

Dean, refusing to relent, poured me more wine.

"Ms. Byrd knows what she can handle." His tone was laced with threat.

I understood that if I didn't drink today, he would soon turn his ire on Keith. He had always been ruthless like that. I didn't want to drag Keith into this, so I raised the filled glass and downed it in one go.

The harsh alcohol burned my throat and lungs.

With each drink I took, Dean matched me.

After several rounds, I was completely intoxicated.

Seeing how things were unfolding, others started to intervene. "It's obvious Ms. Byrd can handle her drink. Let's save some for next time; that's enough for today."

But Dean seemed unwilling to let me off the hook, continuing to pour.

One of his friends tried to block him, joking, "If you keep this up, your wife will come looking for me."

Dean paused, staring intently at me.

My heart raced, panic coursing through me. Aside from Keith, they didn't know that I was the one Dean married five years ago.

"We're divorced. She has no right to manage me."

In that moment, I felt a strange sensation; his tone sounded almost jealous, but when I looked up, his eyes were filled with obvious hatred.

It hit me—he had always hated me.

Since that day five years ago when I had torn him apart from Elaine.

Keith helped me out the door.

He wanted to take me home, but I had no fixed address anymore, and I had no idea where I should go. So, I refused.

The effects of the alcohol were heavy on me. While suppressing the urge to throw up, I decided to find a nearby hotel to spend the night.

In a daze, I thought I saw Dean following closely behind me, but the dizziness clouded my vision, making everything indistinct in the dark.

I managed to book a room, and just as I was about to close the door, someone barged in, grabbing my arm and throwing me onto the bed.

My stomach churned, and I rushed to the bathroom to vomit.

In the mirror, I saw Dean standing unmistakably behind me.

He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look up at him.

His voice dripped with malice. "Ms. Byrd, it seems like you've been getting quite popular among the gents since our divorce."

I wanted to explain, but it felt unnecessary.

Seeing my silence, Dean suddenly lost his temper and violently shoved me aside.

"Veronica, don't forget we're still married!"