His response was quick, almost impatient. He adjusted her blanket with a hint of annoyance, his eyes narrowing. “As long as you behave and stop throwing these tantrums, I’ll love you just as much as I always have.”
Evelyn gave him a faint smile, one filled with a quiet resignation. She could feel the cold liquid from the IV drip seeping into her veins, mending her broken body piece by piece. Her voice was soft, tinged with helplessness.
“But Christopher... I’ve never changed.”
***
Evelyn spent the next month confined to her bed.
Some days she scrolled through her phone, other days she lost herself in books. Often, though, she just lay there staring blankly at the ceiling, her thoughts a jumble of tangled memories and emotions.
Charlotte came by daily, her presence like a bitter wind. Sometimes she would sneer, throwing taunts in Evelyn’s direction, but Evelyn never responded. Her silence seemed to frustrate Charlotte, as if she were punching air.
Eventually, Charlotte stopped trying to provoke her. Instead, she focused her energy on something else—planning Christopher’s wedding.