Jessica walking away had a faint smile on her lips. The night has been fruitful. She didn’t expect Desmond to come to the balcony—making him believe she was genuinely uncertain about Davis’s fate, that she was probing for answers because she lacked confidence in his recovery.
That was exactly what she wanted him to think.
Who would wish their enemy a long life, let alone a chance to rise again? His confidence in Davis’s permanent state of helplessness only confirmed what she had long suspected—he wanted Davis out of the picture entirely.
The more he assumed Davis was doomed, the less cautious he would be. He would slip, make mistakes—mistakes she could use to her advantage.
Desmond might have planned well but like the old man said she will remain an unknown factor in this battle of wits. Her naivety will be her best trump card.
Davis sat in his wheelchair at the center of the room he had been most familiar with, his bedroom from childhood till the time of his accident. His eyes slowly tracing the familiar furnishings and fittings with memories preserved on each of them.
The sky blue coloured wall, the large mahogany table sitting by the window with its surface polished by years of use was once a place he had read and studied on, several photos of the important people in his life were framed and placed on it.
The curtain had been carefully chosen by his mother, an embrace he will never get to hold again, he felt his heart hurt as the memories he never wanted to revisit surfaced.
The bookshelves lined the walls had books he had read and studied to be a better man whose parents should be proud of. Several awards standing on a space in the shelf, a reminder of his efforts and achievements which had all gone down the drain.
Time seemed to stand still in this room, as if the years had frozen in place, unwilling to move forward.
Each corner of the room held traces of the past he had left behind—echoes of laughter, whispered conversations, and moments of peace long lost to the changes that had swept over his life.
A faint knock echoed through the room before the door creaked open, revealing Jessica. Davis rubbed his forehead lightly, his fingers pressing against the tension he could never fully escape, before his gaze slowly settled on her.
Jessica stepped inside, quietly clicking the door shut. She surveyed the room, taking in the simple vibrant decoration of the room that is in stark contrast to the cold and distant man on the wheelchair.
Her gaze flickered to the table with three photo frame, she walked slowly to the table as she studied each of the frame. They are all women but each with its own distinct features.
She recognized one as Vera but the other two she guessed must be his mother and sister. She remembered hearing someone say the Allen’s family daughter was missing and had not been found for years.
Her gaze drifted to Davis, studying him with a mixture of curiosity and concern. His still presence, his once-commanding figure now diminished by the wheelchair seemed to hold secrets only he knew. Their eyes met, and for a moment, the silence between them was heavy, full of unspoken words.
"Is he asleep?" he asked softly, his voice breaking the silence that hung in the room.
Her gaze remained fixed on Davis, observing the subtle changes in his expression since she entered the room.
"Yes, he has expended much energy and needed all the rest." Her voice gentle and firm. He nodded lightly, thinking about the incident earlier he felt complicated.
"Thank you." He muttered almost inaudible.
"I just did what anyone will do." She replied as she dropped the last photo frame in her hand. She had held the photo frame for a longer time because of its striking resemblance to her friend Bella but that’s all.
With no response coming from him, his expression blank Jessica was a bit worried, she came closer her hand on his shoulder "Are you okay?" She asked as she searched his face for answers.
Davis, however, didn’t break his gaze, watching her with an intensity that felt almost palpable. In his still, cold, and colorless world, Jessica had become the only thing that make it vibrant.
Every corner of the room, every quiet moment, every solitude, seemed to come alive in her presence, it’s as if she brought a warmth that transcended the walls that had trapped him for a long time.
Her barrage into the study room where he has locked himself up, her taunting that forced him to sign the marriage documents, her insistence that made him take a tour around the home he had long dreaded, her anger at him being called a cripple... she is really one of a kind.
It is as though everything around him always subtly shift whenever she entered, just like now—dull and lifeless before, now radiating with something he couldn’t quite name but felt deep within.
He lifted his hand slowly holding her wrist gently and without a word, Davis pulled her onto his lap with one swift motion, his arms wrapping around her tightly.
He buried his head in the crook of her neck, the warmth of her skin, the scent belonging to her that he had gradually became accustomed to wrapped around him as he sighed in relief.
For a brief moment, the world outside seemed to have faded, and all that existed was the steady rhythm of her breath, the softness of her presence, and the comfort of her embrace.
His tensed body melted, replaced by a weak vulnerable soul—a quiet longing he hadn’t allowed himself to acknowledge for a long time surfaced.
Jessica noticed the shift in his mood almost immediately. The weight of his silence, the tightness in his embrace, spoke louder than any words.
Her hand moved instinctively, patting his back with a soothing rhythm in a gentle reassurance, as though comforting a child. She understood his mood well, she had experienced over and over in her life.
In silence she accompanied him, Davis clenched his jaw, fighting against the vulnerability that surged within him. He didn’t want her to see him this way—weak, broken, exposed—but the walls he had so carefully built around himself seemed to crumble in her presence.
He recalled the stares at the dining table—the cold, judgmental glances, the mockery hidden behind polite smiles. The cruel words, the eyes that saw nothing but his crippled body.
And amidst all that, Jessica had been the only one who didn’t turn away, the only one who didn’t join in their silent condemnation. She made sure he didn’t feel their stare, patting him, whispering to him, handing him whatever he wants without asking and without question.
Yet, even with her close, Davis felt the crushing weight of helplessness. He couldn’t protect her. He couldn’t shield her from the same world that had tried to break him. The same world that had taken his mother, sister and fiancée from him. The guilt gnawed at him.
Davis’s eyes stung, a sharp pain rising in his chest as the emotions he’d buried for so long finally began to surface. Jessica felt the dampness on her neck, the warmth soaking into her skin. She didn’t need to think to know what it was.
Her heart tightened, but she remained still, understanding that this was something he had to face in his own time.
Slowly, she let her hand slide into his hair, her fingers gently caressing the soft strands, her touch soothing and steady. She massaged his scalp, her movements slow and deliberate, giving him space to let go.
"You know it’s okay to hurt once in a while," she whispered softly, her voice low and tender. "And it’s okay to cry because you are human."
Her words were simple, but they carried a weight that seemed to wrap around him like a comforting embrace, breaking through the walls he had built.
After a long while, his breathe became steady and even. She slowly stopped patting him, giving him time to gather himself before she gently pulled away from him.
His eyes though reddened was much brighter, calm and peaceful. Jessica made to stand up but he held her back.
"Not really." She replied her gaze not leaving his. "Do you care to let me see your legs?" she asked softly.