He Saw My Soul, Not My Scars

Celina POV: Jeremiah's face, contorted in shock and fury, was a sight I would cherish forever. Alec held me close, his presence a shield against the chaos. The officers led Jeremiah and Elena away, their protests fading into the distance. Elena, still trying to play the victim, glared at me, but her malice was lost in the triumphant relief washing over me. Alec gently placed me back on the bed, his hands carefully examining my injured hand, his brow furrowed with concern. "Are you alright, Celina?" His voice was a soft rumble, a stark contrast to the harsh shouts we had just endured. "I will be," I whispered, my voice still hoarse. "Thank you, Alec. How did you know?" He smiled, a gentle, reassuring curve of his lips. "I have my ways. Let's just say I've been keeping a very close eye on Jeremiah. And on you." He paused, his gaze softening. "You're safe now. Truly safe." The doctors and nurses, who had witnessed the dramatic scene, bustled in, tending to my injuries. Alec stayed by my side, a steadfast anchor in my tumultuous world. Jeremiah POV: The back of the police car smelled faintly of stale coffee and desperation. My head throbbed where Celina had caused the glass to shatter, a dull ache that mirrored the confusion in my mind. Alec. Peters. My rival. My enemy. He had been there, holding my wife. The image burned behind my eyelids. What the hell was going on? Elena, huddled beside me, was still sniffling. "Jeremiah, my face! She tried to disfigure me! And my poor kidney! The shock could affect it!" I barely heard her. My thoughts were a whirlwind. Celina. With Alec. It felt wrong, like a betrayal I hadn't anticipated. My wife, the meek, loving Celina, attacking Elena, smashing my awards, then breaking the glass in my presence? And Alec, strutting in like some damn hero. A flicker of something unpleasant passed through me as I looked at Elena' s bruised face. It wasn't the beautiful, unblemished face I remembered. A slight frown touched my lips. She looked... messy. My mind drifted back, years ago. I was on the verge of bankruptcy. My company, Nexus Innovations, was a ghost of its former glory. Then, one day, a miracle. Celina's family, through her, invested a massive sum, saving everything. I resented it. Her inherent privilege, my forced reliance on it. It felt like a blow to my pride, a reminder of my own failure. That' s when the resentment began, a slow, festering wound. Then Elena. She was my assistant, bright, ambitious. She told me she was my 'true love,' the one who had anonymously donated a kidney to save my life a few years prior when I was critically ill. She claimed she loved me from afar, didn't want any recognition, only to see me happy. She painted a picture of a shared, fated past, a spiritual connection. It was a story I desperately wanted to believe. It validated my existence, my struggles. It made me feel chosen, special. "I didn't want your money, Jeremiah," she had whispered, her eyes wide and earnest, when I tried to offer her a reward. "I just wanted you." That night, we became lovers. She was my escape, my fantasy. The perfect woman who understood me, who sacrificed for me. Or so I thought. "Jeremiah? Are you listening?" Elena' s petulant voice cut through my thoughts. "What are they going to do to us?" I sighed, irritation flaring. "Don't worry," I said, forcing a reassuring tone as I squeezed her hand. I felt a surge of guilt seeing her fear. "My family's lawyers will sort this out. They always do." And they did. Within hours, the family lawyers, sharp and ruthless, had us out on bail. But the relief was short-lived. Elena's face, due to the delay in getting medical attention for her minor wound, had developed a nasty infection. The doctor said the scarring would be permanent. Her perfect face was gone. My father, the patriarch of the Chase family, stood before me in the study, his face a mask of furious disappointment. "What in God's name have you done, Jeremiah? Assault? Fraud? This public scandal will ruin us!" He slammed his fist on the mahogany desk. "And to parade this... this self-serving opportunist, while your wife is in the hospital? Have you lost your mind?" "She's not a self-serving opportunist, Father! She's the woman I love! Celina was always just a business arrangement!" I retorted, my voice rising. "Elena saved my life! She donated a kidney for me! Celina was nothing but a cold, calculating opportunist who used her family's money to trap me!" Elena, ever the opportunist, quickly chimed in. "Yes, Mr. Chase. Jeremiah and I have always been in love. Celina was the one who forced herself into his life." My father' s face, already purple with rage, turned an alarming shade of crimson. He clutched his chest, gasping for air. "You ungrateful, disrespectful...!" He collapsed, his body hitting the floor with a sickening thud. "Father!" I rushed to his side, panic seizing me. The family doctor was called. My father was rushed to the hospital. A mild heart attack. Stress-induced. All because of my colossal screw-up. After assuring myself my father was stable, I returned home, the house feeling empty and cold. I couldn't sleep. My mind kept replaying the scene at the hospital. Celina's broken body, Alec's protective embrace. Why did that bother me so much? I kept seeing her face. Not the enraged, heartbroken face from the hospital, but the Celina I married. The one who believed in me. The one who would stay up all night helping me with presentations, her insightful comments always hitting the mark. The one who would bring me coffee when I was stressed, her touch light and comforting. The one who stood by me, even when I was at my lowest. I had been so quick to dismiss her, to call her opportunistic. But she had always been there. And what had I given her in return? Neglect. Abuse. A miscarriage caused by my selfishness. A public, personal violation ordered out of spite. My grandmother's death, used as a weapon by my own cruel hand. A cold dread settled in my stomach. The things I had done to her. The monster I had become. Was it truly because of Elena? Or was it something deeper? A seed of doubt, tiny but persistent, began to sprout in my heart. Had I been so blind, so consumed by my own wounded pride, that I had destroyed the one person who truly cared for me?