A Journey from Bitterness to Truth

When Matilda woke up, the last thing she expected to see was Adrian’s face hovering over her.

She blinked hard, thinking her mind was playing tricks on her. But when she opened her eyes again, there it was–that half–smirk, half–smug grin on Adrian’s face. His eyebrows arched in a roguish manner, dressed down in a hoodie and ripped jeans, his long legs stretched out beneath her hospital bed, holding a throw pillow and smiling at her.

That smile sent shivers down Matilda’s spine.

Adrian let out a whistle, “Hey there, Sleeping Beauty, decided to join the living?”

Matilda’s throat was dry as she tried to speak, but before she could utter a word, Adrian stood up, leaned in close, and assessed her with those unsettling turquoise eyes. “You’ve got some nerve, you know that? Downing a bottle of Hennessy in under five minutes.”

Pale and still looking unwell, Matilda retorted, “And what’s it to you?”

“It wasn’t any of my business before,” Adrian shrugged casually, “But it is now. I’m the one who brought you to the hospital. Don’t you think you owe me a little thank–you?” Whenever Matilda found herself in a mess, Adrian seemed to be right there in the

thick of it.

She clicked her tongue, her eyes brimming with defiance.

Adrian chuckled as he gently pinched her chin, careful not to hurt her. “You know, Matilda, if you’d shown that kind of reckless spirit with Yvan, maybe you wouldn’t be in this sorry state now.”

His words were a sharp jab to her heart, knowing exactly what would make her ache.

Matilda forced a mocking laugh knowingly, the sarcasm thick in her voice. “And what do you suggest I do? I love him. I can’t let go.”

The admission that she loved Yvan, though deliberately, made Adrian’s pupils contract, his sardonic smile turning frosty. His eyes seemed to glint like a wolf’s. “Pathetic.”

He summed her up in one harsh word.

Matilda replied indifferently, “Thanks for the compliment.”

Her impenetrable facade made Adrian grit his teeth. This woman was truly heartless, bearing any and all suffering, which made her terrifying.

The more one could endure, the deeper they buried their pain, and when they finally exploded, no one could stop them.

Adrian withdrew his hand, his smile playful yet predatory, as if Matilda was nothing more than a game to him. And why wouldn’t he? With women throwing themselves at him, he wouldn’t waste his energy on someone so broken. Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.

Matilda knew well of his angelic exterior, but what of his soul? Perhaps no different from a devil’s.

She closed her eyes, signaling she wanted him gone.

Adrian grinned. “That’s how you treat your savior?”

With no choice, Matilda opened her eyes and faced him. “How much? I’ll pay you back.”

His laughter was bitter. “And what about the time and energy I’ve wasted on you?”

Matilda smiled back. “Should I find you another girl right now?”

Adrian’s anger flared as he stood up abruptly, “Don’t be ungrateful, Matilda!” He had brought her to the hospital and looked after her, and she couldn’t even muster a

thank you.

But Matilda wouldn’t, couldn’t thank a man who had once hurt her, no matter how he tried to make amends now. It was too late to change the vile image she held of him.

With a light chuckle, Matilda played her final card. “Adrian, I just remembered that rainy night you held the umbrella for me. I think… you were more impressive back then.”

Memories couldn’t be relived, and she could no longer see the Adrian from that night. It was all an act, a scene set to resonate with her–a performance that had long since ended.