The loud bang that came from Aveline's exit, propelled their gazes over to Atlas, curious to see what he was going to do now.
They expected him to go after his woman. Maybe even defend her. Anything to show that she was really his, because they knew how possessive he could be.
Their disappointment and a little bit of shock was loud in their faces, when he only picked up his fork, and began to eat.
Theo tried to get his attention by shoving him with his legs underneath the table, but Atlas, fully aware of his and everyone else's expectations of him, blatantly refused to acknowledge him.
"You did good. She has to learn to stick up for herself." He patted himself internally.
"Is it just me, or is Aveline really cool?" Freya finally broke the ice.
"Huh?" Yasmin's forehead creased.
"Oh that's right. You were not there at dinner last night. She spoke French. And now she speaks Arabic? Atlas, your woman is so cool!" She lifted a hearty thumbs up, as she grinned from ear to ear.
"My woman?" He thought with a scoff within. "A lot of secrets too." He continued to chew, blanking out the rest of the people in the room with him.
In the hallway of the Sinclair mansion, Aveline staggered through like she was trying to claw her way through fog.
Her head banged. Her feet tingled like tiny spikes prickled them.
"He still didn't stick up for me. He didn't."
She was supposed to know better. That part she could admit. Still, there was a tiny part of her that had clung on to flimsy hope. Hope that he would for once, not leave her to the wolves.
As she struggled for balance, her hands found a wall. With the help of her back she placed against it, she moved haphazardly. Not sure where she was headed, only knowing she needed to breathe.
Her hand suddenly touched the handle of a door, and she paused. Twisting her body fully, she found herself staring at a white door.
"Is it white?" Her dizzy gaze questioned what she was seeing.
Her half curious mind took the better of her, and she proceeded to turn the doorknob.
Pushing the door open, she stepped into the room, and shut the door behind her.
The moment her eyes fell on the scene before her, all of the symptoms of a pending panic attack she was just experiencing, disappeared.
In replacement, was a gnawing feeling in her heart. With her clear vision, she moved forward, and stopped in front of the bed.
Her thoughts travelled back to that stormy night it had rained too. After the rain came this— and— "Oh no!" She gasped.
She had earlier wondered why Atlas looked at her the way he did when she initially walked into the dining room.
Now it made sense to her. She squeezed her eyes shut, remembering everything from last night.
"God no!" Her breathing became laborious all over again.
In her head, she had broken a rule. Perhaps, it was the reason he wasn't enthusiastic enough to come to her rescue.
She plopped on the seat beside the bed, and opened her eyes.
"Hey sir, I'm so sorry, but I'm a mess today," she said, and cleared her throat to rid of all of the choking emotions that pressed against it.
The beeping sound from the monitor squeezed her chest. Her mind again drew the similarities.
"Poor thing," she continued, her eyes scanning the oxygen mask covering the old man's face. "What should I call you then?" Her fingers stroked her chin as she thought.
When she immediately couldn't come up with a name, she decided to look around.
It just dawned on her that she had wandered carelessly, and stumbled into someone's room. A room that reeked off little life, but overwhelming lifelessness.
"Mr White!" Her eyes widened, as she whipped her head back to the old man. "I'll call you Mr White because you have lots of grey hair," she laughed. "I mean I could also just call you Mr Grey," she laughed even harder.
The switch happened so fast. One minute, she was choking with the grief that accompanied certain repressed memories, and now, she was intrigued by the old man on the bed.
"I'm Aveline, Mr White. I'm twenty four years old. If I should guess your age, you should be in your seventies. Surely not old enough to be in this situation you are in. But it's life right? Life has a way of humbling us. I'll know. I've experienced really terrible things," she paused, as an expression of sadness briefly crossed her eyes. But shortly after, it was replaced with a smile. "Yet I'm still here. Still fighting. I think that's what you need to do too."
Her eyes scanned the room again. The curtain blinds were so dark, no single ray of sunlight could possibly bypass it. The walls were painted a dull shade of blue.
It was painfully empty too. Even worse than it was in the hospitals.
"Are they trying to make you never recover?" She shook her head.
In her search, her gaze stumbled on a jotter, and her smile returned.
Rising to her feet, she grabbed the jotter which had a pen on it. She returned to the seat, and quickly began to draw.
In less than five minutes, she was done. Her eyes lit up, as she turned the drawing to the old man.
"Hey Mr White, this is called a dream or vision catcher. Some people don't believe it works, but it does. All of your bad dreams and visions will no longer exist as long as this is with you. I'll just place it underneath your pillow okay?"
She rose to her feet again, and carefully drew closer to him. Crouching, she gently began to place the piece of paper she had ripped out of the jotter under the pillow.
Just as she successfully did, the door pushed open. In shock, she jumped and twirled to see a woman with a look of horror on her face.
"What do you think you're doing?!" She asked sternly.
Aveline, realising the optics of the situation wasn't in her favour, swiftly stepped away. "I can explain. I stumbled into the room, and saw him. I was just trying to help. I meant no harm," she stumbled over her words, as she explained.
The woman, still furious, hissed loudly. "I have never seen your face in this house. Who are you? How did you get in here?"
"I'm Aveline. I'm marrying Atlas Sinclair," she quickly blurted out, even though she wasn't sure how that was supposed to help her.
Surprisingly, the woman's eyes instantly softened.
"You're miss Aveline? The whole staff has been talking about you. I'm so sorry I didn't recognize you because I'm always here taking care of the old man." She hastily strolled forward.
Cleaning her hand on her shirt, she pushed it forward for a handshake.
Aveline's face twisted with confusion at the sudden switch. The woman's eyes glowed, as if she was meeting a celebrity.
"I'm just Aveline." She made sure to point out as she shook her hands.
"Miss Aveline, I'm nurse Tessa. I take care of the old man. It is really nice to meet you!"
"Really? Why?" Aveline couldn't help but ask.
Nurse Tessa's eyes widened in shock at how unaware Aveline was. "You're marrying sir Atlas. We're all just happy it's not miss Faiza anymore. Thank—" she bit her lips, realising she had spoken too much.
Aveline bobbed her head, as she released her hand from the handshake. "I placed a dream catcher under the old man's bed. Little advice even though you're a nurse that knows better than I can ever dream of knowing. He's not going to return to life in a room this lifeless. He needs sun, and light. Sorry for intruding." Out of habit, she bowed a little to the older woman, before quickly disappearing out of the room.