RED NOTES AND KISSES
Chapter 124: FRIDA - 124

Chapter 124: FRIDA: Chapter 124

Frida jolted awake, her heart pounding as her frantic eyes darted around the room. One moment, she was sipping coffee in a bustling café; the next, she was lying in her bed at her parents’ house.

Her mother, Evelyn, stood beside her, her face as cold and flawless as if carved from marble, betraying no emotion. The soft hum of the IV fluid dripping into the tube filled the room.

"Mom?" Frida croaked, her voice weak and raspy. Evelyn glanced at her briefly before returning to adjusting the IV with meticulous precision.

"You’re dehydrated, Frida," Evelyn said matter-of-factly, her tone sharp and devoid of warmth. "Only God knows what reckless nonsense you’ve been indulging in, but it’s affecting our family’s reputation and the company’s image."

Frida’s head throbbed as she struggled to sit up, tears slipping silently down her cheeks. "What... what did you do to me?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

Evelyn arched a perfectly groomed brow, her expression one of mild irritation. "Do to you? I didn’t have to do anything. You’ve driven yourself to the point of collapse, running around like this. Exhaustion, dehydration—it’s all self-inflicted."

Evelyn returned her attention to the syringe in her hand, administering a dose of medication into the IV line. Frida’s body felt heavier, the drugs coursing through her veins with a dull warmth.

"I had high hopes for you, Frida," Evelyn continued, her voice calm but cutting. "I thought you and Laz would grow out of your childish infatuation with each other and focus on what truly matters. Clearly, I overestimated you."

Frida’s glare hardened, defiance sparking in her tear-streaked face. "What are you talking about?"

Evelyn gave her a cold, calculated look. "You’re betrothed to the son of the CEO of John Marks Hospital. Once you’ve recovered, you’ll meet him. It’s time for you to fulfill your duty to this family."

Frida’s chest tightened as anger bubbled within her. "I have a boyfriend," she snapped.

"Yes, and now you need a husband," Evelyn replied smoothly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Mom, I’m a second-year medical student—I’m not getting married!" Frida snapped, attempting to sit up, but her limbs betrayed her, weak and unresponsive.

Evelyn’s expression remained cold, her voice calm but firm. "I believe you’re under the impression that you have a choice in this matter," she said. "Your father and I have indulged your whims long enough, letting you play at free will all these years. But it’s time to step up and fulfill your duty to this family."

"Being married at 22 is no different from being single," Evelyn continued, her tone hardening. "This isn’t about you, Frida—it’s about the family. By marrying into the John Marks family, you’ll help elevate our hospital to the best in America, perhaps even the world."

Frida’s hands clenched into weak fists as she glared at her mother. "You can’t force me into this. I won’t do it."

Evelyn sighed, shaking her head as if speaking to a petulant child. "Frida, you’re intelligent. You must see the bigger picture. There’s nothing wrong with Laz, but he’s not in the medical field. He offers no advantage to our legacy. If your elder sister were still alive..." She trailed off, her voice softening momentarily before regaining its edge. "Never mind."

Frida’s frown deepened. "I had an elder sister?"

"It’s irrelevant—she’s gone," Evelyn said curtly, dismissing the subject with a wave of her hand. "Now, rest. Regain your strength. You’ll be meeting your fiancé this evening."

Frida’s heart sank. "What?"

"We’re hosting a small dinner party. He’ll propose to you," Evelyn said, her tone as final as the click of her heels against the tiled floor.

Frida’s glare sharpened, her voice a venomous whisper. "You can’t be serious."

"Oh, I’m very serious," Evelyn replied without a glance back, heading toward the door.

"I won’t marry anyone," Frida spat, her voice trembling with rage. "I’d rather die."

Evelyn paused in the doorway, glancing at her daughter with icy detachment. "Dramatics don’t suit you, Frida," she said, then slammed the door shut behind her, the sound echoing like a gavel pronouncing judgment.

Frida lay motionless for hours, her body aching and her mind racing. Finally, she began to feel a faint tingling in her limbs. With great effort, she willed herself to move, struggling to sit up. Her arms trembled as she pushed herself off the bed, but her legs gave out, sending her crumpling to the floor.

Determined, she dragged herself across the room, her fingers clawing at the polished wood as every inch felt like a mile. She reached the door at last, gripping the handle and pulling herself upright with a sharp intake of breath.

Peeking outside, she scanned the corridor. It was empty. They hadn’t bothered to post guards—they clearly thought she was too weak to escape.

Frida leaned heavily against the wall, each step a battle as she dragged her useless legs forward. But soon, her strength faltered. Her legs gave out entirely, and she collapsed again.

Panting, she rolled herself down the hallway, her destination clear: the balcony. When she reached it, the shimmering blue of the pool below caught her eye. She rested her elbows on the edge, gazing at the water, its surface serene and inviting.

It had been a long time since she’d considered death. The thought lingered now, more tempting than ever. If she threw herself into the pool, would anyone even bother to save her?

Frida closed her eyes, letting the cool breeze brush against her face. The world felt still, almost peaceful, as she weighed her decision. The silence was deafening, and for a moment, she imagined what it might feel like to finally let go.

She sighed, her breath shaky, as a single tear slid down her cheek. The choice loomed before her, heavy and inescapable.

"How pathetic," a voice drawled, slicing through Frida’s thoughts like a blade. Her mother stood at the doorway, an imposing figure in an elegant dress, her posture regal, her gaze sharp, and her words dripping with disdain.

"I didn’t raise a child this weak," Evelyn sneered. "I knew it—you could never replace her."

Frida’s head shot up, her face a mix of shock and hurt. Evelyn stepped closer, shaking her head as if she were lecturing a disobedient child.

"I’ve let you live your life, have your fun, even date that boy you love. And now, I ask one favor, one sacrifice, and suddenly I’m the villain?" Evelyn’s voice turned icy. "You’re selfish, evil, and vile, Frida."

"You’re asking me to trade my whole life for your benefit!" Frida cried, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions.

Evelyn’s lips curled into a bitter smile. "I doubted it when Delancie showed me the family tree. I wanted to defend you, to believe—no, my mother would never!"

"Never what?" Evelyn snapped. "Sell you off? You want to know something crazy? I did it because you wouldn’t leave that rotten boy alone. His mother was a bitch, and he’s no different."

Frida laughed bitterly, tears streaking her cheeks. "Can you hear yourself? Do you even realize what you’re saying?"

"What? You deserved it. Why? Why did the child I love have to die, and you get to live?" Evelyn’s voice broke as tears welled in her eyes. "Why did my daughter—" She stopped herself, wiping her face with a trembling hand.

She straightened, her mask of composure returning. "Anyway, you’ve taken her place—her name, her identity. You’re nothing more than a shell filling Frida’s shoes."

Frida stared at her mother, disbelief and sorrow etched into her features. "Why did you do it?" she whispered, her voice hoarse.

Evelyn’s gaze hardened. "You act like you hated Laz’s mother, but you were working with them all along," Frida said, her voice trembling as the truth unraveled before her.

"Yes, I hated that damn woman," Evelyn hissed. "But do you think you could have this life, become a billionaire, if you didn’t get your hands dirty?"

Evelyn’s voice lowered, venom dripping from her words. "Everything I did, I did to get where I am. A mere doctor from a poor family—do you know what it took to marry that bastard you call a father? His mother was the devil, and she made me suffer every day."

She paused, her voice turning bitter. "I endured it all, but fate has always been cruel to me. My daughter died, and I couldn’t let him know. So I replaced her. I had no choice."

Frida felt a chill wash over her, her entire body trembling. The woman before her no longer seemed like her mother but a stranger—a cruel, calculating stranger.

Evelyn stepped closer, her eyes gleaming with malice. "Don’t you get it?" she whispered, her voice low and menacing. "You are an imposter. So go ahead, toss yourself into the pool."

Frida’s breath hitched as Evelyn leaned in, her smirk twisting into something sinister. "I’ll just replace you, just like I replaced my daughter with you."

She placed her hands on Frida’s shoulders, her grip firm but deceptively gentle. "Now," Evelyn said, her tone suddenly sweet and mocking, "make yourself pretty so you can get engaged."