A palm-red imprint manifested on the mistress's pretty face. She touched her face over and over again, and having only snapped back to her senses, she widened her eyes at Lilian.
"You b*ch! How dare you hit me?" She pounced on Lilian, grabbing and yanking at her air.
Lilian returned her vigor. "You're asking for a good beating!" She fought back.
By now, this commotion had attracted so much attention. Many nurses had gathered. They tried many times to separate the two women, but none of them succeeded.
Finally, Caesar, who could no longer take it, stormed towards the two women. He reached specifically for Lilian to pull her off the mistress, and perhaps it was by accident, but she smacked him so hard on the face, his nose instantly bled.
Caesar Stoman touched his nose. He looked at the yelling Lilian. "You little Nemesis!" He was fed up.
He snaked his hand around her waist. For a 190-centimeter man, picking up a woman who was many inches shorter than him was an easy feat. The problem was, this woman had not had enough. Not only did Lilian struggle in his hold, she kicked her feet about, whipping her hair back and forth into his face.
"Put me down!"
"Will you calm down?"
"Put me down or else—!"
"Or else what?" he snapped at her. "What are you going to do?"
Lilian's shoulders rose and fell in heavy breathing.
Caesar took this opportunity to order the nurses out. The mistress met his gaze. "Caesar–"
"Leave," he ordered.
"But Caesar–"
"Don't make me repeat myself, Vivian!" His face turned more frosty than it'd initially been.
Caesar was rarely ever this cold. And so, the mistress, Vivian, knew better than to stick around. Though indignant, she stormed out of the room. Now, it was just the husband and wife who remained.
Lilian had quit thrashing, hanging where he held her off the ground by a few inches. "Put me down."
"Have you lost it?" he questioned. "Don't you know how to behave?"
Lilian twisted her head to meet his gaze equally. "Do you think I need advice from a man like you? Who doesn't know how to behave between the both of us, huh? You came to see your wife at the hospital and brought your mistress. Not only that, you proceed to call her condition a budget act. You shameless bastard!"
Caesar had had enough. He never let her down. Instead, he crossed the gap between the door and the bed, and tossed her into it. He did not allow her to get back up, bounding her wrists above her head.
"What are you doing?" She glared at him.
"Are you done? Are you done acting insane? If so, go ahead and tell me why you are so irritated."
Maybe it's because I only wanted a good nap. But no, I just had to dream of a show I hate, and for whatever reason, it just feels so real, like I exist here.
Of course she didn't say it out loud.
Lilian could not struggle her hands free. She said, "You are lucky to have my hands trapped. I'd have cut your throat by now. Maybe then I'd wake up from this dream."
Caesar was starting to feel that maybe, just truly, misery had driven her to madness. "You really hate this divorce that much?"
"What are you talking about? Let go of me?!" Lilian stumbled.
He would not let go. He stared deeply into her pitch-black pupils, blacker the more you gazed into them. Those eyes had never been sharp before, but all of a sudden, it felt that way, and for a moment, he felt that this was not really his wife.
Lilian's lips stayed apart as she breathed in and out.
"I said, 'Let go.'"
"Since when did you have such a horrible temper?"
"Are you deaf?! I said let go!" Lilian, in this moment, dragged her head back. Then she moved forward and directly knocked her forehead into his.
The collision sent a searing headache coursing through their skulls. Caesar nearly staggered. He rasped, "What the heck is your forehead made of? Concrete?"
"Would you like another evaluation?" She had a crazed look in her eyes. "Unhand me! Now."
He did. He finally did and took a step back. But he would not take his eyes off her.
Lilian sat up and rubbed her wrists. "Get out."
He stood still. He kept watching her.
"What more do you want? Get the hell out!" She glared daggers at him, her gaze hostile.
Caesar frowned slightly.
He brushed his fingers through his black hair. His lips parted every now and then as if he had something to say. Eventually though, he gave up on the idea and stormed out, his cold, straight, cruel figure receding.
Lilian breathed out. She plopped back into the bed and stared at the ceiling.
"What is this? What kind of a dream is this? Why have I not woken up?" She could not understand. She felt a splitting headache follow up. And so, on that hospital bed, she proceeded to sleep it off.
Again.
By the time she woke up, it was already very early in the morning. One of the nurses had strutted over to discharge her.
She said, "We have looked through your symptoms, and although there is heavy stress and lack of proper nutrients, everything else is fine. You need to eat more properly as well, young miss. You're losing weight too rapidly. It is not good for you."
But Lilian, who was still seated on the bed, was not hearing any of this. She finally had realized upon waking up that something was wrong.
Very wrong.
She'd slept, but not only had she not woken up in her body, everything felt even more real.
Just what exactly is going on?
She pushed herself off the bed. She paid no heed to the nurse and picked up a pen lying on the desk. Lilian had no second thought as she lifted the object and stabbed into her own hand.
Pain jolted through her body; if she truly was dreaming, she would have woken up by now. The pain was real, too real, but to her horror, she never woke up from this supposed dream.
"It couldn't… there is no way."
Realization was starting to dawn on her. She staggered and dropped to the floor on her bottom.
"I have lost it. I have definitely gone insane. Otherwise, how… HOW AM I IN A TV SHOW?!"