Chapter 13
Cullen was astonished by what had just happened. His heart sank faster when he caught her in his arms.
He was speechless with shock, and his whole body trembled. He parted his lips to scold her but zipped them up again when he saw her eyes tightly shut, and her skin paler than before.
Sweat broke out of his back.
Cullen glared at her. Kneeling properly, he wrapped her warmly into his arm like a cocoon to a Pupa and stood from the floor.
"You're something, Amelia," he growled out with a low frown. He stared straight ahead, fighting the urge to give her a tight knock on her head.
He felt remorseful. He had no idea what to do. He can't take her to the hospital because of her status and condition. The media would have things to say if they saw him carry her this way down there. He doesn't care about the fucking media or anyone. He cares about her feelings, and since she's unconscious, he has to wait. She might not be happy to be in the hospital with lots of bruises when she wakes up.
He can relate so well with her, he has been in this phase of life before. If he could go back to his younger self, he would have corrected a lot of things and protected himself.
No one would believe her husband caused it. He might even be a suspect, giving people the wrong idea of why she wasn't conscious.
Kicking against taking her to the hospital this way, he decided to wait until she regained consciousness. At least, that would look less suspicious.
Gently, he carried her through the rows of staircases. Reaching the second floor, he opened one of the doors and entered the room with her.
He gently laid her on the bed and stared at her pale, weak face deeply. He had a lot of thoughts running in his mind, and a lot of games arranging themselves.
He let out a low sigh when he remembered the scene at the bridge. The reason why he wanted to save her without batting an eyelid and became overly sensitive toward her feelings was because he saw his mother in her.
Back then, if his mother had had someone to stop her, maybe… just maybe she would have been alive until this day.
Her predicament triggered him. When he saw her bruises, they took him back to those days when he was a kid. Those days he would watch his parents argue, abuse themselves bitterly, and fight. Those days he would watch his mother weep while adding makeup to her swollen eyes, or drying up her bloodied fingers.
If he had a chance, he would have protected his younger self from those scenes. He would have just run to his room whenever their argument started, rather than standing to watch.
Those constant fights abused and broke him more than he ever imagined. Right until this day, he lived with a heavy guilt in his chest.
His eyes fell on Amelia again. His mind wandered back to where she spoke about losing a child. If you ask him, the child did a good thing by letting go. Cullen was 99.5 percent sure the future of that child wouldn't be blissful, no matter how anyone tried.
Parents hurts themselves in an abusive home, but destroy their child beyond repair. He doubts they even realize it.
The child would see his/her childhood snatched away if he/she had stayed. So if Amelia should know, losing the innocent child was the best.
When Cullen was younger, he hated his mother. Until the day he held her cold body in his arms and wept on it, he never wanted to hear anything about her. His hate grew from anger.
All through his years as a kid, he felt his mother was the reason for his suffering. He wondered if she never saw good men like his friend's dad to get married to.
As time went on and he began to understand things vastly, his anger turned into sympathy, and then guilt. He slowly understood that his mother had no one except him.
Cullen sighed softly with a clenched heart. Whenever he remembered his mother, he wished he could go back to hold her hands tightly and comfort her, rather than crying louder than her and asking her why she brought him into the world.
With a soft gulp, Cullen refrained from thinking about how his words broke her back then.
His parents were teenage sweethearts. But when they had him without plans, his mother's family pushed her out, and so did his father's family. The two teenagers had no one except themselves.
The first three months were fine and well. They supported each other and waited for his arrival. However, when the hardship began to hit them, their love turned sour, and questionable attitudes began to crawl into the relationship.
Cheating started, and many more. Everything held Cullen's mum in a chokehold, and she decided to confront him about it. When she did, she received her first beating from him.
At that moment, Cullen was six months old in the stomach. A very nice period for miscarriage. This continued this way until he came back from school one day and held the dead body of his mother and cried.
He was just seven years old.
His large hand cupped Amelia's small one and he played with her fingers. She was burning down to her fingers, and he had no other choice than to call his doctor. At this rate, things might get worse if he waits for her to be conscious first before taking a move.
"God," he let out a low sigh. He aggressively combed his hair backward with his fingers. He hated this feeling of pity. Lately, he was beginning to feel it more than necessary.
Taking his phone out of his pants pocket, he dialed his private doctor's number at the speed of lightning.
"Mr. Hansen? I need you at my house right now. It's an emergency," the moment Cullen finished saying these words, he hung up.
He gave the old man at the other end no chance to object or accept his order. Cullen's eyes fell on Amelia again.
He stared at her face for a couple of seconds before leaving her all alone in the room.