Please Come Back, My Love novel Chapter 195

Chapter 195

Victoria: POV

I tried to peel off the ruined Chanel with one hand, but the zipper was in the back and I couldn’t reach it. After three agonizing attempts, I gave up and just

left it on, bloodstains and all.

My broken hand needed medical attention. The fingers were bent at unnatural angles, the swelling so severe the skin looked ready to split. But going to a hospital meant questions. Meant police reports and explanations I couldn’t give.

I grabbed my phone with my left hand and scrolled through my contacts until I found Dr. Harrison. My personal physician. The one who’d been prescribing

me Xanax and Prozac for the past month.

He answered on the third ring, his voice thick with sleep.

“Victoria? It’s nearly midnight. Is everything-”

“I need you to come to my apartment.” My voice was flat. Dead. “I’ve been injured. I need… I need help.

“What kind of injury? Should I call an ambulance?”

“No ambulance. No police. Just you. Please.”

A pause. Then: “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

He arrived in fifteen, black medical bag in hand, his face tight with concern. Iet him in without a word and led him to the bathroom, where the overhead

lights made everything look even worse.

*Jesus Christ, Victoria.” He grabbed my hand gently, examining the damage. “What happened?”

“I fell.”

“You fell.” His tone made it clear he didn’t believe me. “And broke four fingers, scraped both palms, and bruised your ribs in the process?”

I looked away. “I was wearing heels. It was dark.”

“Where? Where were you that this happened?”

‘Does it matter?”

He sighed and opened his bag. “I’m going to need to set these fingers. It’s going to hurt. A lot. I can give you something for the pain, but-

“No.” I shook my head. “No drugs. I need to stay alert.”

“Victoria, with injuries this severe, the pain will be-”

‘I said no drugs.” My voice came out harsh. Desperate. “I need to stay awake. I need to… I can’t let my guard down.”

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1:30 pm

Chapter 195

p p

He studied my face for a long moment, taking in the paranoia written across my features, then nodded slowly. “This is going to be excruciating.”

It was.

He set each finger methodically, the bones grinding back into place with sickening cracks that made me see stars. I bit down on a towel to keep from

screaming, tears streaming down my face, my whole body shaking.

When he was finally done, my hand was splinted and wrapped, the fingers immobilized in a grotesque claw.

“You need to see a specialist,” Dr. Harrison said, packing up his supplies. This is just temporary. You’ll need surgery to repair the damage properly. There’s

significant ligament trauma, and I suspect some of the smaller bones in your palm are fractured as well.”

“I know.”

“And Victoria?” He hesitated at the door. “Whatever you’re involved in… whatever’s happening… you need to be careful. This wasn’t an accident. Someone

did this to you deliberately.”

I didn’t respond. Just closed the door behind him and locked it. Then locked the deadbolt. Then engaged the chain.

Someone did this to me. Catherine did this to me.

2

I walked back to the bathroom and stared at my reflection. Pale. Hollow. Broken.

My phone buzzed.

Not an unknown number this time.

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