The Billionaire's Dangerous Obsession - Chapter 80: Chapter 80

Nivera stood there, unmoving for a moment, heart pounding.
When she returned inside, Marceline was on the floor of the kitchen, sitting with her back against the cabinets, her shoulders trembling as she cried silently.
“I didn’t mean to,” she kept whispering. “I didn’t mean to…”
Nivera knelt beside her but didn’t speak right away.
“Is he alright?” Marceline asked, lifting her tear-stained face.
Nivera swallowed. “I think so.”
That was a lie, and they both knew it was. No one would be okay after almost getting stabbed by their mother, but Nivera didn't blame the woman.
Marceline clearly wasn't in the right frame of mind, but sadly, that didn't change what had just happened.
“I don’t know what came over me,” Marceline said again, her voice small. “I was just cutting the lemon and then… then it felt like someone else was moving my hand.”
She looked down at her own fingers like they were foreign to her.
Nivera handed her a glass of water, watching as she took small sips. She wanted to ask questions. Why did you do it? What did you see? But none of it would come out.
It wasn't in her place to ask. Besides, that would just add salt in the woman's wound.
The minutes stretched thin before Marceline reached for her phone, unlocking it with shaky fingers and dialing Alejandro’s number.
One ring.
Two.
Three.
Voicemail.
She tried again. Then again. And again.
Nothing.
“Please pick up,” she whispered. “Please, mi hijo…”
She left voicemails, the kind that sounded half-lucid and full of half-sobs.
"Alejandro, please... please call me back. I didn’t mean to... it wasn’t me. You know that. Please.”
Nivera rubbed her arm gently, trying to calm her. But Marceline’s hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
“I didn’t know—I’ve never—I’ve never done that before.”
“Maybe you need to rest,” Nivera suggested quietly. “Come to the living room. I’ll make tea.”
“He must hate me.”
“He doesn’t hate you. He was shocked. Anyone would be.”
“I tried to kill my son,” Marceline whispered, voice cracking. “With a kitchen knife. Who does that? What kind of mother…?”
Marceline stood slowly, leaning on the edge of the counter for support. “I’m fine. I just need to…”
Her eyes flickered to her bag where the medication was and without wasting time, she headed to her bag.
Nivera followed her gaze, not missing the way her fingers trembled as she opened it and pulled out a small bottle of pills.
She immediately popped one into her mouth and swallowed dry.
Marceline's hands trembled as she tried to refill her glass of water. She missed, the stream pouring onto the countertop.
“I’ll do it,” Nivera said, quickly stepping in.
“No,” Marceline whispered. “No. I need to feel useful.”
Nivera didn't object as Marceline filled the glass and gulped down the contents in one go.
“I take them when it gets bad,” Marceline murmured, as though she had read the question in Nivera’s head. “Sometimes… sometimes the world moves too fast.”
“I understand,” Nivera nodded.
The silence between them grew heavier.
“Are you fine now?”
Marceline looked at her, and for a moment, her lips parted like she might say something. But then she just shook her head.
“I don’t know. I need to lie down,” she said finally.
“Come, let me help you.” Nivera immediately placed a hand on Marceline and guided her out of the kitchen.
“Where's your room?” She then asked.
“Upstairs,” was Marceline's short answer.
“Okay, let's go.”
Marceline hesitated, then nodded. Together, they made their way upstairs.
By the time they got to her room, Marceline’s steps had slowed considerably. The pill was taking effect—her shoulders slackened, her breathing evened out.
When they got to Marceline's room, she helped the woman who was still shaken up into her bed.
“ I’ll stay with you.”
“No, no—you don’t have to.”
“I want to,” Nivera said firmly.
There was no way she was leaving Marceline unattended, as there was no telling what would happen.
Nivera sat in the nearby armchair, watching her. It didn't take long for Marceline to fall asleep.
A part of her wanted to call Alejandro. A greater part of her wanted to go see him.
But instead, she sat. Still and quiet watching Marceline.
She would stay with her until Alejandro returned.
Nivera wasn't oblivious to the fact that Marceline's eyes always held a certain speck of sadness whenever she looked or even spoke about her son.
And with the way Alejandro was always dismissive of his mother? Something had happened between both of them and until the time they both addressed it and stop running away, neither of them would be completely fine.
The last thing she saw before closing her eyes for a brief moment was Marceline finally falling asleep, her chest rising and falling in rhythm.
She would just rest her eyes for a bit. Just a bit, she told herself.