It had been another long, unbearable day.
Mrs. Maron had increased the chores tenfold blaming Ava for a smudge on the glass table, a wrinkle in the cushion, even for forgetting to bow deep enough to one of her guests.
Ava didn't argue.
She just worked.
Worked until her knees gave out once. Worked until her palms stung raw from hot water. Worked until her vision blurred but she still forced a smile when handing Mrs. Maron her evening tea.
The house finally fell into silence by midnight.
Ava barely made it to her room.
Her breathing was uneven. Her lips pale. Every limb felt heavier than it should've She sat on the edge of the bed, trying to untie her hair with trembling fingers… and everything went dark.
The next morning
Devid didn't see her in the kitchen. or at the entrance like usual. She never missed his departure He frowned, stepping into the hallway and calling out once.
No answer.
A strange unease made his steps quicken. He knocked lightly on her door before opening it and froze. She was sprawled on the floor. Still in yesterday's clothes. Pale. Her forehead glistening with sweat. Her breathing shallow.
"Ava!"
He rushed to her side, lifting her fragile body into his arms.
"Damn it, look at me," he muttered, tapping her cheek gently. Her head lolled slightly, but she didn't wake.
His chest tightened as he carried her to the bed, laying her down and grabbing his phone.
"Dr. Sam now, Come to the Maron residence. It's urgent."
(Twenty minutes later)
Devid stood silently by the bed while Dr. Sam checked her pulse.
"She's severely exhausted. Malnourished. Probably dehydrated. Her blood pressure's low," the doctor said. "Did she eat regularly?"
Devid stayed silent.
The doctor sighed. "This didn't happen overnight, Devid. This is weeks of stress and neglect. She's physically drained."
He clenched his fists. Neglect. The word echoed in his ears like a slap. As soon as the doctor left, Devid sat on the edge of the bed, watching her fragile form. Her lips were chapped. Her lashes damp from fever tears.
For the first time since their wedding, he reached out… and gently brushed a few strands from her face.
"You idiot," he whispered hoarsely. "Why didn't you say anything?"
She didn't answer.
She couldn't.
And for once… Devid didn't want her obedience.
He just wanted her okay.
The room was dim. The only sound was the soft beep of the IV drip Dr. Sam had left in Ava's arm. Devid hadn't moved from the chair beside her bed for over an hour. He stared at her pale face, her lips slightly parted as she breathed faintly.
She looked… fragile. Like the smallest push might break her.
His eyes dropped to her wrists bandaged lightly by the doctor. The evidence of her quiet suffering. The quiet he'd always misunderstood as weakness or submission.
But now seeing her like this he realized something.
She never said no.
Not because she was weak.
But because no one ever cared if she did.
He sat there… the mighty Devid Maron, CEO of the most powerful conglomerate in Germany… feeling powerless.
And ashamed.
A glass of warm water sat untouched on the bedside. He had heated it himself. It was the only thing he could think to do.
Her forehead was still warm.
Her body hadn't moved.
But her hand… was cold.
He hesitated then gently slid his fingers into hers, curling them around her palm.
He never held her hand before.
Not once.
Now it felt like the only anchor keeping him from spiraling.
"I'm not..." he began softly, as if she'd hear him. "I'm not supposed to care."
His voice cracked slightly.
"But I do. Maybe I always did. I just didn't want to admit it."
He swallowed the lump in his throat.
"You should've screamed. Hit me. Hated me."
Still nothing.
His thumb gently traced the back of her hand.
"Don't do this again, Ava," he whispered. "Don't go quiet on me like this. Not like this."
And for the first time since their forced wedding.
Devid stayed the entire night by her side.
Not out of obligation.
But out of fear.
And something deeper… something dangerously close to love.
The sun slipped quietly through the curtains, painting golden shadows across the bed.
Ava's lashes fluttered.
Her head pounded faintly, her lips dry, throat aching. She blinked slowly then froze.
Devid.
He was there. Sitting in the chair beside her bed. Asleep.
But still holding her hand. Her breath caught in her throat.
Why was he here?
What happened?
Memories came rushing back burning skin, shaking hands, darkness swallowing her and now… him, next to her?
Her heart clenched.
He would be mad.
She made him worry. Probably ruined his sleep. He'd scold her. Maybe punish her.
She slowly tried to slip her hand away
"Don't."
His deep voice stopped her. It was hoarse from sleep, but firm.
Her gaze snapped to his face.
He was awake now, eyes fixed on her, unreadable.
"I'm sorry," she whispered quickly, lowering her eyes. "I didn't mean to make you worry, I just"
"Shut up."
His voice cut her off.
Not cold. Just… broken.
Her body stiffened.
"I'm not mad," he added softly. "I'm…" He trailed off, exhaling a breath that shook more than it should have. "You scared the hell out of me, Ava."
Tears brimmed in her eyes.
"I-I didn't mean to faint…"
"You fainted because you were treated like a damn maid," he muttered, voice hardening. "I should've seen it sooner."
She blinked up at him, confused.
"From now on, you don't answer to anyone but me," he said, his tone sharper now protective. Possessive. "No more overwork. No more silence. If something's wrong, you speak. Got it?"
She slowly nodded, lips trembling.
Just then a knock echoed through the quiet.
Devid stood, brows furrowing. "Stay here."
Downstairs, he opened the door.
"Yah! You asshole, you didn't even tell me you got married"
James stopped mid-sentence.(Devid's bestfriend)
His eyes landed on Devid's disheveled appearance shirt crumpled, eyes bloodshot, clear signs he hadn't slept.
"What the hell did someone die?"
Devid ran a hand through his hair. "It's… Ava. She collapsed last night."
Jmaes blinked. "What?"
"She's sick. Overworked." His jaw clenched. "Because I wasn't here."
James stared at him.
Then smirked slightly. "So… the Devid I knew, the 'I-hate-every-woman-but-my-mom' Devid… stayed up all night at his wife's bedside?"
Devid didn't reply.
The silence was enough.
"Damn," James said, whistling. "Hell really did freeze over."