novelnext Chapter 12
Chapter 12
Sonny's POV
A whirlwind of dark thoughts spun through my mind, and the sight of Bella holding Mark's hand tightly only made me more agitated. Though Bella seemed uncomfortable, Mark remained calm, almost as if he'd been expecting this moment all along.
Back in university, Bella had always stood by my side, opposing Mark. Now, it was Mark who was holding her hand.
As Bella turned to leave, Mark followed her naturally, like it was nothing. A surge of energy shot through me, and I impulsively moved forward, wanting to grab Bella's hand again. But before I could reach her, Mark stepped in front of me, blocking my path.
"Mark, I see you still like stealing other people's girlfriends, huh?" I lashed out at him, frustration boiling over.
"Whose girlfriend is she?" Mark asked, his tone calm. But his next words hit me right where it hurt.
"Yours? Didn't you push her away yourself?"
I muttered under my breath and swung a punch at Mark. He didn't move to dodge, maybe he wanted it. The punch landed square on his face, splitting his lip.
Bella's face went pale as she watched, horrified. She stepped in front of Mark, shielding him from me. Her eyes burned with fury, and her voice cut through the tension.
"You and your sister both have a thing for violence, don't you?"
Her words pierced through my anger like a needle, deflating all of it. I hadn't even realized I was staring at the faint scar on her forehead, the one that had long since faded, but the anguish in my chest flared up.
"You wanted to know how I've been, didn't you?" Bella's voice was steady, her gaze unwavering. It was as if she was determined to crush any lingering hope I had left, just as I had done to her.
"Since leaving you, I haven't been hurt or heartbroken," she said, her words sharp and cutting. "Seeing you now, I feel nothing, no love, no hatred."
She smirked slightly, the expression colder than I could ever have imagined. "All I feel is disgust. Nausea. That's it."
Bella's POV
That evening, Mark came to visit me for the first time since I'd moved into my new apartment. What had once been a cold, empty space was now warm and inviting, a home I had built for myself.
"Have a seat," I said, pouring him a glass of water. As I turned to grab the first aid kit, he spoke.
"Take off your jacket."
I looked at him, confused. "What? You want to wear my jacket? Are you cold?"
Instead of answering, Mark gently rolled up my sleeves. I inhaled sharply when he revealed the bruise on my wrist, a mark of Sonny's grip. It was red, tender, and there was even a scrape where his watch had cut my skin.
Embarrassed, I tried to pull my hand away, but Mark held it firmly.
"I'm fine. You should take care of your own injury first," I protested.
But Mark ignored me, his expression stern as he carefully disinfected the scrape with iodine, then covered it with a bandage. I felt self-conscious when I noticed the stark contrast between his bleeding lip and my minor wound.
I couldn't help but wonder why Mark was so upset. Was it really just because of a small scrape on my wrist? I stayed silent as he finished treating me, my mind racing with questions.
"It's done," he said, finally placing my hand gently on my lap. He hesitated for a moment before asking, his voice both protective and reluctant, "Did Sonny and his sister hurt you before? Did they really lay hands on you?"
So that's why he was so angry. I felt a wave of amusement mixed with warmth, Mark had picked up on my earlier words and actually cared enough to ask.
"His sister hated me," I said, exaggerating slightly for effect. "Once, she even threw a vase at my head."
Mark's eyes darkened as I spoke, and I couldn't help but laugh at his reaction. I grabbed a cotton swab and started cleaning the cut on his lip.
It was strange, this was the first time I felt like I wasn't alone. Mark's concern was real, and it made me feel seen in a way I hadn't felt in years.