Love beyond the mask101-200

Novel Catalog

Chapter_172

Whitney had rushed to Ludwik’s side, her heart racing as she heard his anguished cries. But just as she was about to reach him, Elaine shoved her inside and slammed the door shut, locking it with a force that made Whitney’s breath catch in her throat. Stumbling, she leaned against the door, gasping for air. Her eyes immediately sought out Ludwik. There he was, in the midst of self-inflicted agony, dragging sharp porcelain shards across his arm, each stroke a desperate attempt to escape the violent throbbing pain ravaging his mind.

“Ludwik, stop!” Whitney cried out, rushing toward him. “You can’t do this to yourself! Please, let me help you. Let me ease your pain.”

His bloodshot eyes barely registered her presence, his expression contorted with unbearable agony. In his delirium, he lashed out, striking her with the shard. The jagged edge tore through her skin, sending a sharp sting of pain up her arm. Blood began to bead on her skin, but despite the injury, Whitney forced a strained smile.

“At least you didn’t go for my belly,” she whispered, her voice tight with effort, trying to make light of the situation.

“I need to get out!” Ludwik mumbled, his voice hoarse and frantic, pushing past her in a wild attempt to escape.

It seemed he recognized someone was on the other side of the door, but his mind was too far gone to focus. Whitney quickly grabbed his arm, pulling him back, her heart pounding with urgency.

“You can’t leave, Ludwik. You can’t go out there, you can’t let them win,” she pleaded, her voice trembling with raw emotion. “Your father… he wants to lock you away. You can’t let him do that!”

Her hands gripped his, her eyes filled with a mix of desperation and compassion for the broken man standing before her. “Please,” she whispered, her voice softer now, “You have to trust me. I’m here to help you.”

Ludwik’s face twisted in confusion and fear, his forehead veins bulging as his body trembled with the internal storm that raged within him. For a fleeting moment, she saw the child in him—the boy who had suffered so much over the years. His arms wrapped around her in a shaky embrace, a desperate grasp for control, as though the weight of his own mind was too much to bear.

“I don’t want to go there,” he whispered, his voice cracking with fear. “Please… save me.”

Whitney swallowed the lump in her throat, her own sense of helplessness fighting to break through, but she refused to let it. She couldn’t allow herself to falter now. The situation was too fragile. Too dangerous. She couldn’t—would not—let him slip any further into the abyss.

Her voice, though shaken, was laced with unwavering resolve. “Elaine… there has to be something you can do. I need to get better, to stand up to them… I need to help Ludwik!”

The mention of Elaine stopped her in her tracks. For a brief moment, Whitney froze. Her heart ached, and tears began to well in her eyes. She had always known the bond between Ludwik and Elaine was strong, but in this moment, her jealousy seemed insignificant. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—let Ludwik destroy himself. She couldn’t let the Lippert family tear him apart when he was at his most vulnerable. She would save him, no matter the cost.

“Leave it to me,” she murmured, her voice soft yet firm. “Give me your hand.”

Ludwik’s fury began to subside at the sound of her steady words. His tense body gradually relaxed as he collapsed onto the floor, his large, muscular arm stretching out toward her. Whitney gently took it, feeling the fevered pulse beneath his skin—chaotic, fast, and erratic, a sure sign of the internal battle he was losing.

As she held his arm, memories flooded her mind—of a man she had treated years ago, in a similar state of delirium. She had healed him then. She would heal Ludwik now.

With a steady hand, Whitney picked up one of the silver needles Elaine had left on the table. Carefully, she positioned it against a pressure point at the base of Ludwik’s skull, hoping to ease the torment that seemed to consume him.

The moment the needle touched his skin, Ludwik jerked violently, his body protesting the sudden intrusion. Whitney spoke softly, her voice a comforting balm to his shattered mind. “Don’t be afraid, L. I’m here. Just imagine you’re lying in a meadow, safe and peaceful. You’re going to be okay.”

She began to hum a gentle lullaby, the melody soft and soothing. Gradually, Ludwik’s tense body began to relax, the music sinking into his soul, bringing him a sense of peace that had eluded him for days.

His furrowed brow softened, his trembling hand reaching out to grasp hers. Slowly, his eyelids fluttered closed, and he drifted into a fitful sleep, his head resting on her lap. His hand remained gently over hers, resting on her swollen belly, a soft and tender touch that stirred bittersweet emotions in Whitney’s heart.

Her voice trembled as she whispered, “Baby, your daddy’s right here. But he’s sick. Mommy’s healing him. Once he’s better, when you’re born, he’ll be able to hold you. I hope he’ll love you. I hope he’ll accept you.”

The baby shifted within her, a small reminder of the fragile hope she clung to. Whitney closed her eyes, feeling the life inside her, and promised to protect it. But as Ludwik’s hand lingered on her belly, she couldn’t help but wonder if he would ever truly accept their child.

“L… do you feel that?” she murmured softly. “The baby’s growing so much. Will you love this child, even though it’s not your choice?”

Ludwik’s body trembled in his delirium, his fingers tightening around her, his grip seeking warmth. “Mother…” he mumbled, his words a blur of confusion.

A sharp pain pierced Whitney’s chest. The word stung, reminding her of the painful truth: in his fragile state, he had confused her with his mother. The chill that washed over her was bitter.

“The cost of love is too high,” she whispered, her heart breaking for him. “I hope you get better, Ludwik. I hope you smile at me again someday.”

Tears welled in her eyes as she held the silver needle in trembling hands, prepared to continue the treatment. She could feel the weight of his body grow heavier in her arms as he sank deeper into sleep. For a moment, she wondered if he would ever truly wake from the pain that had consumed him for so long.

“I miss the cookies you used to make,” Ludwik murmured sleepily, his words soft and disjointed. “I could never get enough of them when I was a child.”

His words broke Whitney’s heart, the memory of the boy he had once been, before all the trauma, flooding her mind.

The silver needle trembled in her hands. She couldn’t bring herself to pierce his skin just yet. Finally, the needle slipped from her fingers, falling to the floor in a quiet symbol of her own helplessness.

“I’m sorry, Ludwik,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I didn’t hurt Natalie. But I promised her… I promised I’d stay by your side. I’ll carry this child for both of you, and I’ll bring you warmth. I will fulfill her dying wish.”

Tears streaked down her cheeks, but she wiped them away and picked up the needle once more, this time with renewed resolve. Slowly, carefully, she continued the acupuncture. She could feel Ludwik’s violent agitation begin to subside as she worked.

Outside, the Lippert family stood by the door, grim-faced. Parker and Ashton lingered near the threshold, worry etched into their expressions. Elaine watched from the small window, knowing Whitney was in the room but unable to confront her. She could see that Whitney’s methods were working, that much was clear.

As the night dragged on, nearing midnight, the tension in the hallway began to ease. The Lippert family retreated, leaving Elaine to watch over Ludwik. Whitney continued her work, undisturbed.

By dawn, Ludwik’s condition had stabilized. His pulse was steady, his breathing even. Whitney let out a long, exhausted sigh of relief, her eyes scanning his calm face.

Just as she was about to step back, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She silenced it quickly, noting it was a call from the Banyan City Police Department. Her heart skipped a beat as she answered.

“Hello?” she said, her voice tight with apprehension.

The officer on the other end spoke urgently, “Miss, this is Officer Zhao from the Banyan City Police Department. We have an update on Ludwik. You need to come down here immediately. It’s urgent.”

A cold rush of panic gripped her chest. What had happened to Ludwik?

“I’ll be there soon,” she replied, her voice steady despite the fear that churned within her.

As she hung up, she glanced down at Ludwik, his breathing calm for the first time in days. The road ahead would not be easy. But Whitney knew that whatever came next, she had to face it—for Ludwik, for herself, and for their child.

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