Echoes of a Forsaken Heart (Natalia and Hamilton)

Hamilton's eyes lit up with a spark of hope.

But before he could bask in the feeling, Natalia's words cut through the air like a knife. "Eveleen committed a crime; she deserves to face the consequences. Why on earth should I break up with Ryan?" Her words were uttered through gritted teeth, and Hamilton's face instantly soured at the tone.

Before he could respond, he saw Natalia's pale face as she slumped in her seat.

"Natalia!" Hamilton's face was stern as he quickly scooped her up in his arms.

Only then did he notice the cold sweat on her face.

"What's wrong? Are you feeling okay?"

Natalia bore the pain in silence.

Hamilton, however, quickly realized what was happening.

His hand instinctively went to her abdomen.

"Period cramps?"

Almost reflexively, Natalia pushed his hand away.

"Could you get me some painkillers, please? Thanks."

Hamilton's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Even now, she wouldn't let him touch her.

If it wasn't for the painkillers, she probably wouldn't let him anywhere near her.

Hamilton didn't go for the painkillers.

Instead, he carried her out of the room.

She didn't want to be touched; well, he was going to touch her anyway.

"Hamilton, put me down," Natalia said weakly, still in pain.

But Hamilton just carried her towards the exit.

"Open the door. Caspian will handle the paperwork later."

The staff hurried to open the door, not daring to delay, especially when dealing with a man of Hamilton's caliber.

"Mr. Fowler, there's a clinic just outside. You might want to take Ms. Jenkins there," suggested a helpful employee.

Hamilton nodded and proceeded to carry Natalia out of the building.

Natalia lacked the strength to fight back, and, at this point, even if Hamilton had set her down, she wouldn't have been able to walk. Hamilton carried her into a nearby private clinic where a doctor administered an injection, and Natalia headed for the restroom.

She stayed inside for over ten minutes before she started to feel a bit better, though her body still shivered with chills.

As she emerged, Hamilton was waiting by the door.

"Cold?" he asked.

Before she could answer, he wrapped his arms around her.

Natalia's brows knitted in discomfort.

Seeming to anticipate her protest, Hamilton said, "A hug won't cost you a limb, and besides, I'm only warming you up because you look pitiful."

Natalia scoffed. "Hamilton, do you really think I don't know what you're up to? Let go of me!"

Hamilton's voice turned icy. "What? Afraid of giving Ryan the wrong idea?"

Natalia didn't shy away from the truth.

"Yes. I am afraid of misconceptions. I know too well how it feels when your significant other is getting cozy with someone else. I would never put Ryan through that." Hamilton felt a pulsing in his temples, his chest tight with frustration. "Natalia, are you telling me you can't move past those things?"

Natalia laughed coldly.

How could she move past it?

The wounds were still raw, the pain still crippling when recalled.

How could she possibly get past it?

But she didn't need to explain any of this to Hamilton. He wouldn't understand-those wounds, that pain, they had never been his to bear.

The clinic was bustling, and Hamilton, seeing Natalia's determined struggle, reluctantly let her go.

Natalia, still in pain, walked towards the police station.

It seemed unnecessary to wait there any longer, though her phone was still inside.

Upon leaving the clinic, she headed back to the station.

Hamilton followed behind her with a grim expression.

As they approached the entrance, he suddenly spoke up.

"Natalia, do you really think you and Ryan can make it? Let's bet you'll break up soon."

Natalia's brows furrowed, and after a moment, she laughed.

"Leaving aside whether we'll break up or not, even if we do, I won't give you another chance!"

With that, she entered the police station.

After retrieving her phone, her first action was to call Ryan.

Ryan must have been nearby; within minutes, he arrived.

"Ryan, how did you get here so fast?"

He smiled. "I made some chicken soup for you and was about to bring it over when you called."

Natalia nodded appreciatively.

"How are things now?" Ryan asked, concern creasing his brow.

Natalia shook her head. "Not sure of the details, but it seems okay for now."

It looked like Hamilton had simply had Caspian handle some paperwork.

"Hungry? Want to eat a bit now?"

Natalia shook her head again. "Let's wait until we're home."

Ryan didn't press her.

"Alright, when we get home, I'll make you something else, maybe some steak to help you regain some strength."

They continued talking as they walked to the car.

Hamilton stood to the side, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

Just as Ryan was about to open the car door for Natalia, Hamilton interjected.

"Need a pad? I can go buy you some."

Ryan paused, and Natalia's eyelids twitched.

"Don't mind him, Ryan. Let's go."

Hamilton raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "Mr. Holzer, you do know women shouldn't, you know, when they're on their period?"

Natalia's face darkened, and she pulled something from her purse and hurled it at Hamilton.

It was only after she threw it that she realized it was a bottle of perfume.

And Hamilton, he didn't even try to dodge.

The perfume bottle struck him, and the metal cap grazed his forehead, drawing blood.

Natalia paused, then muttered somewhat guiltily, "That's what you get for talking nonsense." Her voice trailed off.

Then, she pulled out a couple of twenty-dollar bills and slapped them against Hamilton's chest.

"Here's for medical expenses."

Hamilton's brow twitched fiercely as he gripped her wrist firmly.

"Natalia, do you really think you can get off the hook with a measly forty bucks? Do you have any idea how much this face is worth? You've wrecked it, and now you need to take responsibility!" Natalia's temple throbbed, and in the next instant, another hand reached out.

Ryan stepped forward, taking Natalia's wrist and forcefully pulling her hand away from Hamilton's grasp.

A red mark encircled Natalia's wrist.

Ryan's expression was stormier than a tempest at sea.

"If Mr. Fowler requires some form of accountability, I'll step in. Do you need to visit the hospital? Or perhaps you require someone to nurse you back to health? I'm at your service."