Chapter 258
Chapter 258:
There she was, fast asleep in the living room, as if she’d never left.
“Anak, you’re home already p>
Nanay Emily’s soft voice behind me startled me. I turned and found her holding a tube of sports gel, her expression calm but worried.
“Nanay, why is Sophia sleeping here? And what’s the gel for?” I asked, nodding toward her hand.
She took a breath, about to answer, but Sophia shifted on the couch right then, her blanket sliding to the floor.
B𝖾 𝗽a𝘳𝘵 𝗼𝗳 оu𝘳 с𝗼𝘮𝗺𝗎nі𝗍𝘺 o𝘯
Nanay stepped closer and lowered her voice. “She got home a little while ago. She’s absolutely exhausted. She didn’t even make it to the bedroom before she passed out p>
I crouched to pick up the blanket, but as I knelt beside the couch, something on Sophia’s leg stopped me cold: a dark, ugly bruise spread across her right thigh.
“What happened to her leg? How did she hurt herself?” My eyes swept over her arms and her other leg, finding another bruise on her right arm and two more scattered along her left leg.
“She told me she got hit during rehearsals p>
“Forget those rehearsals, Nanay Emily! She’s not going back to that competition—not if she’s getting hurt like this!” I clenched my fists as anger rose over my concern.
Nanay let out a sigh and patted my arm gently.
“Daniel, you can’t stop her now. She’s poured everything into this. All those hours, all that hard work, just to reach the final.” Nanay sat on the edge of the couch and uncapped the gel, carefully applying it to Sophia’s bruised legs.
“And what if she ends up bruised from head to toe? Is it really worth it p>
“These things happen during rehearsals, anak. Now, why don’t you carry her to the bedroom? I’ll help her change and take care of the rest p>
“I can handle it, Nanay p>
She looked at me, surprised. “You’re going to help her change p>
“No. I mean I’ll handle her bruises myself. You don’t need to worry p>
“All right, if you’re sure you can do it p>
“I am,” I said quietly, carefully lifting Sophia into my arms and carrying her to the bedroom.
For nearly twenty minutes, I sat beside her and applied gel to every bruise I could find. Watching her sleep—so fragile and drained—I knew I needed to talk to her in the morning. I might not feel anything for her, or at least that was what I kept telling myself, but seeing her battered for a dance competition didn’t sit right with me.
Was this really the only way she could help the typhoon victims in Amador? Was it worth all this pain?
If that truly was her only reason, I’d rather match the prize money myself and distribute it among the survivors than watch her end up like this.
I checked my watch. It was past eleven. With a heavy sigh, I took the tube of gel and headed quietly toward the door.
That was when her voice broke the silence, barely above a whisper.