CHAPTER 185: CHAPTER 185 ONLY FOUR MONTHS REMAINED

Clara wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "You scared us, Bella. You really scared all of us."

Bella gave her a small, tired smile—soft around the edges, though her lips were still cracked and a little pale. Her voice came out gently, like a whisper wrapped in warmth. "I’m okay now, Aunt Clara," she said, trying her best to brighten her smile, to ease the heaviness in Clara’s gaze. "Really. I promise."

But that fragile reassurance did nothing to stop the trembling in Clara’s hands.

She shook her head slowly—then leaned forward and held Bella’s hand more tightly, careful not to press too hard against the bandages. The tears she’d been holding in finally spilled down her cheeks. Her voice broke as she spoke, every word heavy with emotion. "No... no, you’re not okay," she whispered, brushing a loose strand of Bella’s hair back with trembling fingers. "Do you even know how you looked when I first saw you in that hospital ward? Your hands were wrapped in gauze, your face was bruised, your dress was torn to pieces... it looked like you’d walked through a battlefield. I couldn’t breathe...."

Bella’s eyes blinked slowly, her throat tightening. She didn’t know what to say. Seeing Clara cry now, like a mother would for her own child, made her heart ache in a different way.

"I’m sorry..." she murmured, her voice shaking just a little. Her eyes were wet now too, glistening under the soft hospital light.

Clara shook her head, her voice firmer this time, though still thick with tears. "No, sweetheart. Don’t say sorry. You saved two people with your bare hands. You have nothing to be sorry for." She cupped Bella’s cheek gently, eyes filled with pride and pain all at once. "But don’t ever... ever do that alone again. If something had happened to you—"

Her words broke off. But Bella understood. So she squeezed Clara’s hand back.

"Where’s Jay Jay and Leo?" Bella asked softly, her eyes wandering around the quiet room.

Aunt Clara gently smoothed the blanket over Bella’s legs and replied with a calm tone, "The sirs had to go to the office. There was an emergency meeting—they left just a little while ago."

Bella nodded slowly, lips pressing together in understanding. "And where is—" she started to ask about Lina and Alessandro, but before she could finish, Aunt Clara answered with a kind smile.

"They were here with you all night, sweetheart. Stayed until the sun came up. But they got an emergency call too... had to step out."

"Oh... okay," Bella said quietly. She didn’t mind. Work was important. And honestly, she was used to it—being left alone during injuries, healing in silence, getting used to her own company when her body was in pain.

But this time... Aunt Clara was here.

After Bella was discharged from the hospital, she returned home with Aunty Clara by her side.

The car ride was quiet. Bella leaned her head against the window, watching the trees pass by slowly. Her hands were wrapped in soft bandages, and her arms still ached every time the car bumped slightly over the road. Aunty Clara sat beside her the whole time, holding a small thermos of warm soup in her lap, glancing at Bella every now and then.

Once they reached home, Clara opened the front door and helped Bella out of her shoes.

"Go lie down, sweetheart," she said softly, brushing the back of Bella’s hair. "I’ll bring your things to your room."

Bella didn’t argue. Her legs were tired, her body still heavy. She went straight to her room, the familiar walls greeting her like old friends. She stepped inside, breathing in the soft scent of her bedsheets and the gentle warmth of sunlight peeking through the curtains.

She didn’t even change.

She just lay down on the bed carefully, curling under the blanket and resting her cheek against her favorite pillow. It was quiet. So quiet that she could hear her own breath.

The day passed slowly.

She stayed in her room the whole time.

Her laptop sat untouched on her desk. Her fingers hurt too much to type, and honestly, her mind was too tired do anything. Every time she moved her hands, they throbbed in dull waves.

So instead, she followed her usual routine in small pieces.

She drank her warm soup when Clara brought it.

She washed her face slowly with her soft towel, careful not to hurt her cheek.

She brushed her hair gently with her wide comb, wincing now and then when her wrist bent too far.

She just moved quietly through her little habits, one by one. The same way she always did when her body was tired but her heart needed peace.

***

A few quiet days passed like petals drifting on still water—slow, delicate, and strangely heavy.

Bella’s wounds had begun to heal. The bandages were gone now, replaced by soft creams and gentle care. Her skin was still tender, especially where the wounds on her arms had been, and faint bruises lingered across her shoulder and knees like little shadows of pain that hadn’t fully said goodbye.

But something within her still remained untouched. It wasn’t the skin or the bruises—it was deeper, quieter. A part of her that no bandage could reach, no gentle hand could soothe. It stayed there, silent and aching, like a bruise on the soul that hadn’t yet learned how to fade.

A hollow pressure sat in her chest like unshed tears, quiet but heavy, waiting for time to loosen its hold.

Since returning home, she had quietly drawn a line between herself and Leonardo.

And she never crossed it.

She stayed polite. Quiet. Distant.

She walked the halls like a guest, careful not to let her footsteps echo too loud. Her words were always gentle. Her chores were done on time. She kept her distance, never lingering too long near him—never allowing herself the luxury of closeness.

Because something had returned to her memory.

Something he had once said, in a voice that now haunted her more than it should.

"This marriage is for one year only."

He had said it early on. Back when everything was colder. Simpler. When she was just the quiet girl thrown into a strange house with powerful people and names that made headlines.

She had forgotten those words.

But now, they came back like a quiet punch to the heart.

Eight months had already passed.

Which meant... only four months remained.