Chapter 6 Chapter 6 Saving Him from the Future

Hatred tangled with fear inside her.

Just stepping near the hospital made Delia feel like she'd fallen into ice water.

Her fingers clenched tight, cold sweat breaking out on her forehead.

That pain flashed back-her skin being peeled like it was on fire, the sting of chemicals-all of it burned into her memory like scars branded on the soul.

Noah opened the car door and moved to help Curtis and Delia out.

But suddenly, Delia latched onto Curtis's arm.

"No... I can't go in!" She shook her head frantically, tears streaming down her cheeks uncontrollably. "Please, honey, take me home!"

Watching her melt down again, Noah had obviously run out of patience.

"Ma'am, you insisted on coming because you felt unwell, and now we're at the entrance and you refuse to go in."

"Are you actually sick or not?"

Curtis's brows drew together slightly.

He gently held her icy hand, trying to calm her down.

He hesitated for a second before speaking in a softer, more personal tone. "Delia, we're already here. Let's just have the doctor take a look, that way we can treat it if something's really wrong."

Delia's heart was racing wildly.

She couldn't possibly explain that her fear came from the trauma of her past life.

But without a convincing excuse, Curtis might decide to go back to that meeting.

Everything she just did would be for nothing.

Clinging to Curtis, she looked up with teary eyes.

"Babe, I really don't feel good... but hospitals freak me out... It's just too much..."

Her voice trembled, full of pleading.

Curtis looked down at her tear-streaked face, unsure.

Right then, Noah's phone buzzed.

He stepped aside, frowning as he picked up.

As he listened, his face grew serious in an instant.

"I understand," he said, then rushed back toward them, lowering his voice. "Sir, there was an incident at the venue. Someone sneaked in with a knife and attacked another person... at your table. It's chaos over there. I think we should-"

Noah cut himself off, a worried look in his eyes.

"It's fine. Let's go back," Curtis said, calm as ever.

His brows furrowed a little tighter. He let out a cold breath in silence.

He'd gotten wind that something might go down, but he didn't expect they'd be this bold.

And as for who was really behind it-he had a few pretty solid guesses.

"Want me to find out who got hurt?" Noah asked casually, though he was really probing for permission to dig deeper.

Talking openly in front of Delia wasn't ideal, so he just made a face, slightly annoyed.

Curtis nodded. "Yeah."

Noah wasted no time, wheeling him back into the car in case more trouble came their way.

They'd dodged a bullet this time, but for all he knew, someone else could be after Curtis right now.

He started driving toward the Stockton villa, fast.

Curtis sat in the back, Delia close against him.

Seeing her just sitting there, spaced out, he instinctively put an arm around her, trying to comfort her.

But Delia wasn't calm at all.

She did it. She really changed what happened in her past life.

She blinked, holding on tighter to Curtis's arm.

Curtis gave her a thoughtful glance.

Was it just coincidence?

Delia tensed slightly under his gaze.

She quickly shoved down her excitement and snuggled closer, hiding her face in his chest. "Honey, my head's still spinning..."

That look of reliance in her eyes instantly softened Curtis's doubts.

His expression melted into something gentler.

As long as she was okay-and he was okay-nothing else mattered.Curtis thought for a moment, then said to Noah up front, "Grab some meds for Delia on the way back."

"Got it, sir," Noah replied.

Honestly, he still thought Delia was overly dramatic most of the time.

But weirdly enough, her little episode ended up keeping them out of serious trouble.

The whole thing put him in a strange mood.

Like, sure-she had no idea what was going on, but it kind of saved their necks.

So, credit where it's due.

Delia leaned against Curtis's chest, soaking in his body warmth.

She shut her eyes, her mind finally starting to settle.

Maybe fate wasn't set in stone after all.

Maybe... just maybe, she had a shot at fixing everything she'd messed up before?

*****

When the car stopped, Delia let go first.

Noah was just setting the wheelchair down outside and was about to help Curtis out when Delia stopped him.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly confused.

She got out first and bent slightly toward the car. "We're home. Let me help you out," she offered, already reaching for his arm.

That simple move made Curtis visibly stiffen for a second.

He looked up at her, hesitation written all over his face.

It didn't take long for Delia to figure out why.

Her throat tightened.

Back then, she'd tossed some of the cruelest words at him because of his leg-

Called him useless, broken... couldn't even stand to be touched by him.

Now, suddenly offering to help must've felt... weird. Unbelievable, even.

No wonder he flinched without thinking.

"I..." Delia's voice caught.

She caught the quick flash of disappointment on his face and instantly softened her tone.

"I just wanted to help you out a bit, you know? You let me lean on you the whole ride back. Think of this as my turn. Fair's fair."

"Babe, let me give it a try, I promise I'll be super careful," she added, giving him wide, hopeful eyes.

Curtis stayed quiet, lips pressed together, unreadable emotions flickering in his dark eyes.

Finally, he gave a tiny nod.

He didn't lean on her, but he didn't push her hand away either.

Delia's heart lifted a bit. She gently steadied his arm, guiding him from the car to the wheelchair.

She was a bit clumsy, sure, but every movement was slow, cautious, and full of care.

Meanwhile, Noah stood by, eyes locked on her, ready to jump in if anything went wrong.

Only when Curtis was safely in the wheelchair did Noah finally relax with an inaudible sigh.

Delia glanced at him, catching the way he stared at her like she might explode at any second.

She gave a light sigh herself.

Well, she'd earned that suspicion.

It was her own fault for acting like a hurricane before. Now, she'd just have to slowly rebuild that trust.

Inside, the house manager Edith Dalton had already heard the car and was waiting at the door.

She stood up straight the second the door opened. "Mr. Stockton, welcome back. You're home early today."

She reached out, intending to take over the wheelchair from Noah-

Only to realize he wasn't the one pushing it.

Her gaze shifted-and froze when she saw Delia by the handles, smiling as she waved.

Mr. and Mrs. Stockton came back together? And she was helping him?

Edith's normally calm face morphed into one of pure disbelief.

She involuntarily looked at Noah, silently asking, "What's happening here?"

Noah just threw up his hands a little, looking more than a bit helpless.

He replied with the kind of look that said, "Don't ask me-I'm clueless too," and gave his head a small shake.

Honestly, who knew what Delia was planning?

Whatever it was, both Noah and Edith secretly raised their guard a notch.

Because let's be real-when someone that volatile suddenly starts playing the perfect wife, something's definitely up.

Chances were, she had some new drama cooking.