Fated To Three, Betrayed By All… Until She Rose novel Chapter 121

**Healing Slowly But Surely**
*By R. Joseph*

Do they love her?

Chalice,

As I knelt there, tears cascading down my cheeks, I found myself adrift in a sea of confusion and hurt, grappling with the weight of his words. He had turned away, retreating to a chair, leaving me stranded in my own turmoil.

And that stung deeply.

It stung because it felt as though I had become invisible to him, as if my anguish meant nothing at all. His indifference was a sharp blade, cutting through the fragile threads of hope I clung to.

His gaze swept across my face, slow and deliberate, as if he were searching for some flicker of emotion, some sign that I was still there, still fighting. The silence between us stretched, heavy and taut, until he finally broke it with a hesitant voice. “I want to believe you, Chalice. I want to believe that your actions were in self-defense, but the footage tells a different story. It shows her trying to walk away, and you kept pursuing her. You even laid hands on her first—”

Oh, of course!

I fought the urge to roll my eyes, a wave of contempt bubbling up inside me. But I stifled it, forcing my head down in a mock display of hurt, my voice tinged with exasperation as I exclaimed, “Yes, I did!” I lifted my chin defiantly, adding, “But that was only because she was hurling insults at me as she walked away! She called me stupid, said my IQ was so low that it was the only thing we had in common—our lack of functioning brain cells. If you think I’m lying, then you need to listen to her taunts! Don’t just focus on what we did! For the love of God, turn up the volume!”

I knew the footage was silent; I was painfully aware that most recordings lacked sound. But in that moment, I didn’t care. I wanted to sound pitiful, to elicit sympathy, even if it made me appear foolish. And it worked—his expression shifted, concern etching itself into his features as he glanced away, clearly troubled.

I could see the conflict churning within him, the confusion that clouded his thoughts. He opened his mouth, perhaps to ask more questions, but before he could utter a word, the sharp beeping of Kael’s monitor sliced through the air, jolting us both from our conversation.

My head snapped toward the sound, my heart racing as Zevran rushed past me, his anxious eyes darting over every detail of Kael’s condition—his face, the monitors, the tangled wires that connected him to the machines. Zevran turned to me, his expression stormy and commanding. “Fetch the doctor, Chalice!”

For a heartbeat, I was frozen, as if an invisible force had tethered me to the spot.

But panic quickly took hold, breaking the spell. I sprang to my feet, my heart pounding as I dashed out of the room, calling out for a doctor, my voice echoing down the sterile corridor.

Moments later, I returned to Kael’s room, breathless, with a doctor and two nurses in tow. They pushed Zevran and me aside with practiced ease, their focus entirely on Kael as they began to assess his vitals.

The silence that enveloped us during those agonizing minutes felt like an eternity, each second stretching painfully long as we waited, hearts in our throats.

At last, the doctor turned to us, her expression a mix of relief and professionalism. “He’s fine. His blood pressure just dropped momentarily, but it’s nothing serious. It has stabilized.”

As she spoke, I couldn’t help but notice the way her gaze lingered on Zevran, a flicker of something unspoken passing between them. My frown deepened.

Desperate to pull her attention away from the man who was supposed to be mine, I asked, “What does that mean? Will he be okay?”

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