Chapter 5 Josh is Back.

Melissa's POV

When I woke up, the first thing I heard was a tender voice which felt calm and low, almost whispering beside me.

"You were glowing three years ago," the voice said softly, "so full of visions and dreams that we planned on both achieving together. Now, you're covered in bruises."

For a moment, I wasn't sure if it was real or just part of a dream. My eyelids felt heavy, like they'd been glued shut. The voice carried something familiar - something that pulled me closer to consciousness. Then a gentle touch brushed my arm which seemed all warm and careful, like whoever it was didn't want to hurt me.

My eyes fluttered open with the bright hospital light stinging a little. Yeah, I could predict it was a hospital with the environment and I instantly recalled that I passed out because of some allergic reaction. I squinted, trying to adjust. At first, everything was blurry with the faint hum of machines and the smell of antiseptic. But when I finally turned my head, my breath caught.

'Josh.'

The same face I hadn't seen in three years. His hair was a bit shorter now, his jaw a little sharper, but his eyes - those eyes that once made me feel safe, hadn't changed one bit.

For a split second, it felt like I had fallen back into time - back to college, to late nights in the robotics lab, to laughter over instant noodles, to dreams written on scrap paper and stuck to our dorm walls. That same warmth rose in my chest, heavy and painful. I missed him - the version of me that smiled freely beside him, the life that could have been ours if things had gone differently.

But then reality crashed back. This wasn't the time to feel that way. I pushed those memories down quickly, burying them beneath layers of control I'd learned to perfect.

"Melissa." His voice was firmer now, a little worried. He leaned closer the moment my eyes opened fully. "Hey, you're awake."

I blinked, still trying to find my words. "Josh... are you back?" I whispered. The sound of his name on my tongue felt strange, unfamiliar after all this time.

He nodded slightly, his gaze tracing the bruises across my face and arms. I saw his expression change with his concern deepening and hardening into something close to anger. "Melissa," he said again, slower this time, "are these bruises... are they from your husband?"

My stomach tightened but there was no right way to answer that. Silence filled the space between us which felt all heavy and uncomfortable. I shifted on the bed, trying to pull the sleeve of the hospital blanket back down to cover the marks on my wrist. The doctor must have rolled it up for the injection earlier, which must have saved me from the allergic reaction Sophia had caused.

I could feel Josh's eyes studying me, searching for an answer I wasn't ready to give. My silence only confirmed what he feared. The bruises told their own story, one I had tried so hard to keep hidden.

He stood abruptly, fists clenching. "They're from your husband, aren't they?" His voice rose slightly, anger breaking through his calm this time. "I'll find him, Melissa. I swear I'll teach him a lesson. Nobody deserves to be treated this way."

Panic flashed through me. "No, Josh!" I said quickly, reaching for his arm. My voice shook. "Please don't do that."

He froze, looking down at me with his jaw tight.

"It's just... it's a thing of three days and I..." I stopped myself before saying too much. He didn't know about the contract that had trapped me in this nightmare. He didn't know that this marriage wasn't born out of love but out of obligation - a deal that cost me my freedom.

If he found out, he'd look at me differently. He'd see not Melissa the dreamer, but Melissa the woman who sold her own peace for survival. I couldn't let that happen.

I swallowed hard, forcing a small, shaky smile. "You know what, Josh," I said, softer this time, "I'll handle this. I can deal with it myself."

His brows furrowed as he stepped closer, the anger melting into worry again. He sat back down beside me and gently reached for my right hand. His touch was careful, almost hesitant, like he didn't want to cross a line.

"Three days?" he repeated quietly, his thumb brushing my knuckles. "Why wait for three days, Melissa?"

I looked at him, like I really looked at him. His face was filled with the same sincerity that had drawn me to him years ago. And for a moment, I almost wanted to tell him everything. That I was counting down to the day the contract ended. That freedom was so close I could almost taste it.

But I couldn't.

So, I looked away and gently slipped my hand from his grip. "Nothing really," I lied with a small laugh that didn't sound like me. "It's just... the robot launch for the company I work for is in three days, and I have a lot to put together before then."

He studied me for a moment, clearly not buying my excuse, but he didn't push further. He'd always been like that - patient when I built walls around my feelings.

I stood up from the bed quickly, pretending to be fine, pretending I didn't feel weak. "Besides," I added, adjusting my gown as I turned to him, "thank you for saving my life, Josh. I mean it. I really appreciate it."

He rose too, his expression softening. "You scared me, you know that?" he said quietly. "When I found you there, barely breathing..." His voice trailed off. He didn't need to finish... the memory in his eyes said enough.

I tried to smile, even though guilt pressed heavily on my chest. "I'm sorry you had to see me like that."

"You don't have to apologize for someone else's cruelty," he said, stepping closer. His tone was calm but firm. "You deserve better, Melissa. You always did."

His words sank deep into me, stirring feelings I thought I had buried. For a split second, I saw flashes of what could've been like mornings spent laughing in our dream apartments, long talks about our dreams, growing old beside someone who actually cared.

I shook it off before it could take root and I couldn't afford to feel that right now.

As I reached for my shoes beside the bed, a sudden dizziness hit me. The world spun slightly, and before I knew it, my knees gave way.

"Whoa, hey-" Josh moved fast, catching me before I hit the floor. His hands gripped my arms which felt firm and steady, pulling me close against his chest.

For a brief moment, I froze there. His scent was all clean and familiar, surrounding me. My heart reacted before my mind could stop it, beating faster and heavier. It felt like all those years apart disappeared in that single second.

"I'm fine," I whispered, even though I wasn't.

He looked down at me, his voice barely above a whisper. "You don't look fine."

I forced a small laugh, trying to lighten the air that had grown tense between us. "Guess the allergy took more from me than I thought." I teased.

He didn't laugh or at least chuckle like I had envisaged. Maybe, he didn't find all of it funny. Rather, his eyes stayed locked on mine, searching, like he was trying to read everything I wasn't saying. The silence that followed was thick - the kind that holds all the words people are afraid to speak.

I quickly pulled away, steadying myself. "Thanks," I said, forcing my tone back to something neutral. "But I can stand now."

"Melissa..." he started, but I cut him off gently.

"This isn't the time for all of this, Josh," I said, trying to sound stronger than I felt. "Please."

He looked like he wanted to argue but stopped himself. He exhaled deeply, running a hand through his hair. "You've changed," he murmured. "

I didn't respond. I just reached for my bag from the side table, pretending to check for my phone. My throat tightened again - not from the allergy this time, but from the ache of everything unspoken between us.

"I have to go," I finally said. "There's something I need to handle before it's too late."

He nodded slowly, but the look on his face told me he wasn't done trying. "Melissa," he said, his voice low and steady, "whatever you're caught in right now, I hope you know you can still choose to walk away. You're stronger than you think."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded without saying anything.

Because if I spoke, I might break.

And breaking wasn't an option for me at the moment.