Samantha Pov

The quiet hum of machines had faded into the background, replaced by the muffled voices of nurses beyond the half-closed door. The sterile scent of antiseptic clung to me like a second skin. I need to freshen up. I hope Uncle Henry persuades the doctor to release me early. This place… it’s a reminder of the past. I need to get out of here.

I must’ve dozed off after Tom left. He’s kind—gentle in a way that makes me feel safe. I think he sees me as more than just a colleague. *Maybe he has feelings for me.*

*Should I stop him before it goes too far?*

As I tried to sit up, a wave of sharp pain surged through my body.

“Oh God, this pain is unreal,” I muttered. “They say I’m fine, but why does my body say otherwise?”

My throat was parched. I reached for the glass of water on the bedside table when I heard voices—low, familiar.

Through the thin wall and slight gap in the door, I heard them.

Uncle Henry’s thick British accent.

And then—**his** voice. The one I could recognize in my sleep.

**Liam.**

Even after all these years… even after his betrayal… my heart still accelerated at the sound of his voice.

I strained to listen.

> “I want to check on her.”

> “Why are you so concerned now?”

> “Who even are you?”

> “Someone who cares more than you ever did.”

Then silence.

A door clicked. Footsteps faded.

I walked back to bed, heart pounding, wounds reopened. I sank into the pillows.

*So it wasn’t a dream. Liam had come. He stood just beyond the door… and Uncle stopped him.*

I didn’t know whether to feel grateful that he came, or furious for everything he had done—for leaving me when I needed him most. He broke me from the inside out.

The accident left its scars. The betrayal left deeper ones.

He should’ve been the one to hold me, to console me, to put the balm of love back into my fractured soul. And yet… if not for all that pain, I may never have found my father’s side of the family. There’s some grace in that, at least.

A gentle knock interrupted my thoughts.

“Miss Blake?” A nurse peeked in. “We’ll begin your discharge prep now. Dr. Blake said you’ll continue recovery at home.”

Home. But where was that now? I thought.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

Later that evening…

The city blurred through the tinted window of the car. I sat in the back seat, wrapped in a beige shawl, half my face hidden—as if the fabric could shield me from the truth.

Uncle Henry drove in silence, his jaw clenched. I didn’t blame him.

Neither of us spoke until the car pulled into the gated driveway of a beautiful brownstone nestled on a quiet New York street. *Home—for now.*

Uncle stepped out and opened the door for me.

“Are you sure this is safe?” I asked quietly, still seated.

He met my gaze in the rear-view mirror. “Safer than anywhere else. And if he comes again… I’ll be there.”

I knew exactly who he meant.

As he helped me out, a kind-faced woman with short blonde hair opened the door.

“Welcome home, sweetie. I’m Hannah Drew—your uncle’s childhood friend,” she said warmly. Her kindness wrapped around me like a blanket.

Uncle chuckled. “Hannah, are you going to let us in?”

“Oh! Of course,” she smiled. “Come in, come in.”

The interior was stunning. A grand chandelier glistened from the ceiling. The walls were adorned with rich paintings and intricate artefacts. A plush beige sectional sat at the far end, and a matching marble-top coffee and dining set completed the luxurious space. A carved spiral staircase curled up to the first floor. Heavy curtains covered a wall-to-wall window.

As I looked around in awe, Hannah tapped my shoulder.

“You’ll love the morning light through that window. But first—let’s get some food into you,” she said, guiding me to the dining table.

“Uncle,” I said as I sat, “could you arrange for someone to pick up my things from the hotel?”

“They’re already here,” he replied. “And once you’re fit to travel, I’ll arrange for our return journey. If we stay here too long, the past will keep haunting you. I won’t let that happen.”

I simply nodded.

We ate in silence until a staff member burst into the room.

“Madam, there are people outside—press. They want to come in.”

“Press?” Hannah frowned. “Why are they here?”

“We don’t know, ma’am.”

Hannah looked at Henry, then stood. “Alright. Let them in.”

She stepped out, Uncle Henry closely behind.

Samantha pov

Following them took more effort than I expected. Every step was a battle, but curiosity outweighed the pain.

" Gentlemen, I appreciate your concern, but my niece isn’t in a condition to answer your questions right now. Give her a day or two, and I’ll personally arrange a more private setting. Thank you for your concern and patience." He dispersed them tactfully. The real question is am I ready to face them.

" Sam dear, what are You doing here? You were supposed to eat your meal?” He asked me.

" I was curious. Why do they want my interview? I don't want to face them. " I replied with a hesitant voice.

" You’re a journalist, Sam—you understand this world better than I do.” I nodded.

" I never wanted you to come here. But you are stubborn. You never listen to me. He is a bad omen. Whenever he is near Something bad happens." There was a concern on his face.

"I needed closure. Something to make my heart finally believe he’s really gone." I kept my head on his shoulder and he held me tightly.

The day of the Press conference

I adjusted my pale blue blouse and brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, and I painted my lips with a nude lip paint. After giving me a few days to heal, uncle had decided today was the best day. I was feeling overwhelmed.

After assuring me that it is just a small interview with only few journalist uncle dropped me at the hotel entrance.

The private lounge at The Avalon Hotel, where Uncle had made arrangements, was quiet but elegant—crystal chandeliers, velvet sofas adorned the hall.

As he had promised me, he had arranged everything with precision: only two selected reporters, no paparazzi, and a time limit of fifteen minutes. His words that he had spoken before we came here echoed ,

“Stay calm. Don’t let them poke where they shouldn’t. And if you feel even slightly overwhelmed, walk away. I’ll be right outside.” Calmed me a little bit.

"Today I realized—taking interviews is far easier than giving one."

The journalist who was across me was a polished woman in her early thirties, who smiled professionally.

“Miss Blake, thank you again for agreeing to this. Our readers are very moved by your recovery story. May I ask, how has this accident changed your perspective on life?”

Masking the pain arising across my ribs, I smiled politely and answered.

“I’ve learned that life can shift in a heartbeat. That healing isn’t just physical—it’s... emotional, too.

Satisfied with my answer, she threw another question on my way.

“And how are you coping now?”

Before I Could give her a befitting reply a sharp voice that could cut a glass echoed in the hall.

“Oh, this is what all the cameras were for?” Rose Hartley strode in, draped in an emerald cocktail dress, heels clicking, eyes sharp despite her smile. Her laugh was light, but her eyes narrowed slightly when they met mine.

For a second everything stood still. Reporters froze. Though I was unbothered by her arrival, Still her arrival shocked me a bit .

Rose tilted her head. “Sorry to interrupt, I didn’t realize that the press was after someone other than Liam this week.” She said sarcastically.

Thinking of showing her, her place, I got up.

“I believe this is a private session—” Before I Could speak any further, Rose interrupted me.

“Oh please,” Rose rolled her eyes . “You’re the British journalist from the engagement, right? I remember you. You vanished right after. You had met with an accident the same day. Poor you. Hope you are doing now. ”

I answered her with a stiff nod. “Yes, I was involved in the accident.”

“Well, I think you need a bit more sparkle in your life. Come out with me. One drink. ”

“I don’t—”

“Don’t make me drag you,” she grinned—and did exactly that, her hand already around mine.

Before I could protest, Rose had looped her arm through mine as if We were best friends and flashing a dazzling smile at the journalists, she spoke “You’ve had Your time with her now I’m borrowing her ”

Moving my head in all directions, I tried to search for uncle Henry but he Was seen nowhere.

She grabbed my arm and pulled me.

Just one drink. Then I’ll slip away quietly.” I thought and followed her

Rose took me to the rooftop disco. The place was smelling of sweat and different types of perfumes. It was packed with people.

Rose ordered a round of tequila shots before I could decline. “Loosen up,” she laughed, pushing a glass toward me.

“You look like a haunted doll.” She laughed mockingly.

“I don’t drink,” But my voice was drowned in the loud music.

..,“Just one.” Rose raised her glass in a mock toast. “To surviving car crashes and awkward interviews.”

With great effort I picked up the glass and toook a rip. . One sip wouldn’t kill me but may be help me to forget the ache in my chest . The ache of hearing Liam's voice , the look that Uncle give me like I am a porcelain doll.

I took another sip. The clear crisp liquid burned my throat just like my burning heart.

" I wanted to apologise for my behaviour that day. It was just that I was too newous and a little drunk. You know to loosen myself. This was one of the reason I brought you here " Rose offered me another glass which I took willingly.

" Apologies accepted. ” I replied with a smile.

“You know,” she said, twirling her straw, “you’re tougher than you look. I couldn’t believe it when I heard about your accident. I mean—gosh, you’re still standing.”

“Sometimes standing is all you can do.” Give her a befitting reply, I picked up my glass and we clinked our glasses.

I was trying to relax a bit when my head swayed . A wave of dizziness passed over me . I excused myself and went towards restroom.

... Liam Pov

I had stopped going to Pubs . and bars after I lost the love of my life but I don't know why today I was unable to reject Kabir ‘s offer like I always did.

Trying to loosen up, I wore jeans, a polo, and threw on a leather jacket.” Completing my look by gently combing my already gelled hair I went off.

After a long while I felt like driving my Ferrari So I gave the driver off. After setting the GPS I started driving towards the address Kabir gave. I don't know why Kabir has chosen this bar.

The bar was crowded. Familiar faces drifted past. Kabir was waiting for me at the entrance . We sat at the table that was at the far end away from the usual hustle bustle of the bar. Kabir had gone to fetch glass of wine but as usual hooked up with the beautiful bar attender leaving me all alone .

I was feeling bored. I took my phone typed him a message and got up to leave.

Third Person POV

The lounge’s dim hallway was oddly quiet. As she turned a corner, a sudden shove knocked her into the wall.

“Watch it,” growled a tall man—clearly intoxicated—his breath reeking of alcohol.

“I’m sorry,” Samantha murmured, trying to step past . But he blocked her.

“I know you… you were at the Turner party, weren’t you?” His eyes narrowed. “Thought you were *somebody*…”

“Please move,” she said firmly, trying to stay calm.

“Don’t act all high and mighty now…”

Suddenly, a hand pulled the man back with surprising force.

“Back off!” Rose snapped, stepping between them like a shield. Her face, no longer sweet, was sharp with fury.

Samantha clutched the wall, her breath short.

Before the man could lurch forward again, another voice cut through.

“Get away from her.” He stormed down the hallway, shoving the man aside and rushing to Samantha’s side. His eyes flicked to Rose, then back to Samantha’s pale face.

“What the hell is going on?”

Rose blinked. “I—I just found her. He came out of nowhere—”

Samantha’s knees gave way. Liam caught her just in time.

“Call security,” he barked

As Liam gently lowered Samantha into a sitting position against the wall, she clutched his coat in half-conscious panic. His heart thundered in his chest.

Rose stood a few feet away, phone to her ear, her face unreadable.

But Liam’s eyes were only on Samantha.

Just as Liam lifts her in his arms, Samantha murmurs something—barely audible.

“You left me…”

His breath catches.

And Rose… smiles faintly when she thinks no one is looking.