The Donna Rose Buried in the Snow Chapter 04

The Donna Rose Buried in the Snow Chapter 04

The digging stopped. 

I floated above the withered rose branches. 

Damien stumbled forward. 

His expensive suit dragged through snow and mud. 

But he didn’t seem to notice at all. 

A guard brushed away a thin layer of snow, revealing the corner of my cream–colored coat. 

Damien froze. 

His throat moved. 

But no sound came out. 

“Don… this-” 

The guard’s voice shook. 

Damien suddenly dropped to his knees. 

He dug with his bare hands. 

When his fingers touched my frozen sleeve, he jerked back. 

Like he’d been burned. 

Then he went mad. 

Digging faster. 

Harder.. 

Blood seeped from under his nails. 

Mixed with melted snow. 

Stained my clothes. 

His breathing hitched. 

“No… that’s impossible…” 

His voice was hoarse. 

“She was just arguing with me yesterday… how could she-” 

“Alison Hayes!” 

He shouted my name. 

His voice shattered. 

“Get up!” 

“Stop playing games with me!” 

“If you don’t get up right now, I’m going to be mad!” 

I floated behind him. 

Watched as he pulled my stiff body into his arms. 

Awkward. 

Clumsy. 

Nothing like the calm, untouchable Don. 

My head lolled in his arm. 

The ice that clung to my hair brushed against his chin. 

He shuddered. 

Lowered his head. 

Pressed his forehead against mine. 

His breath was hot. 

Mine was gone. 

“Why are you so cold…” 

He whispered, pulling me tighter into his chest. 

“You always begged me for a hand warmer… 

remember?” 

“Why aren’t you saying anything now?” 

Mrs. Andersen handed him a blanket. 

He wrapped me in it hurriedly. 

His fingers brushed my wrist. 

The torn skin. 

The bruises. 

Rope marks. 

Rose thorns. 

Frozen dark purple. 

His breath hitched. 

His arms tightened suddenly. 

Like he wanted to crush me into himself. 

“Call a doctor! Now!” 

He roared at the guards. 

Panic seeped into his voice. 

“Move! Get a doctor here!” 

But everyone knew–it was pointless. 

He carried me inside. 

Passed the dining table. 

His eyes flicked over the untouched dishes. 

Cold. 

Congealed. 

All my favorites. 

Everything he had ordered just for me yesterday. 

He paused. 

Just for a second. 

His grip loosened slightly. 

Like he was afraid of breaking something fragile. 

He laid me on the bed. 

Then rushed to grab my hot water bottle. 

Filled it. 

Placed it in my hands. 

I watched him sit by the bed. 

His fingers brushed my cheek. 

Then pulled back quickly. 

Like he was afraid of what he’d feel. 

Snow kept falling outside. 

His shadow stretched across the wall. 

Thin. 

Fragile. 

Nothing like the man who controlled everything. 

His voice dropped to a whisper. 

Like he was afraid of disturbing me. 

“I’ve brought you home.” 

“Stop being mad… okay?” 

“Please… wake up.” 

“I’ll listen to you. I’ll do anything.” 

“Just wake up.” 

I floated beside him. 

And suddenly, I wanted to laugh. 

This wasn’t love. 

He was just used to me. 

Used to me orbiting around him. 

Used to me smiling the moment he turned back. 

Used to me softening every time he found me after I 

ran away. 

Now that I was gone, he panicked. 

Like losing something familiar. 

Not heartbreak. 

Just discomfort. 

But it was too late. 

I didn’t want to watch him pretend anymore. 

I drifted toward the window. 

And then, a scream tore through the room behind me. 

“Alison!” 

“Please–wake up!” 

The sound shook me to my core. 

But what was the point? 

Damien, where were you before?