The Mistress Who Ran Away With The Twins-Chapter 169: Unspoken Past

Agh—what... what is happening?

Why does my forehead feel warm... but at the same time, cold?

The sensation confused me. Like someone was touching me, but I couldn’t understand how—or why.

I drifted in and out of consciousness.

At first, it felt like sinking. Heavy. Endless. Like my body was being pulled downward by something thicker than sleep itself. Then the nausea hit, sudden and violent.

I jolted awake with a sharp gasp, my stomach twisting painfully.

"No—" I groaned, barely managing to turn my head and push the car door open before bile surged up my throat.

Rome reacted instantly.

He cursed under his breath, unbuckling his seatbelt and lunging toward me just as I leaned forward, gagging. One hand steadied my shoulder while the other pushed the door fully open.

I threw up. Hard.

My body convulsed as everything I’d drunk came rushing out, burning my throat, my eyes watering uncontrollably. I barely registered the cool night air or the rough asphalt beneath my knees as Rome guided me down, one arm firm around my waist, the other holding my hair back so it wouldn’t fall forward.

"It’s okay," he murmured, his voice low and steady, too gentle, too real, like he was talking to something fragile. "I’ve got you. Let it out."

I didn’t understand anything anymore. I couldn’t even process what was happening or why I could still see him.

Rome.

Was he not a dream?

Why did he feel so real?

Why did his hands feel warm?

I didn’t have time to think further. Another wave of nausea hit, and I retched again dry this time, my whole body shaking violently. When it finally stopped, I sagged forward, weak and trembling, my forehead nearly touching the ground.

Rome kept me from collapsing completely.

"Easy," he said again. "Don’t move too fast."

"Don’t—" My voice cracked. "Don’t touch me."

But even as I said it, I didn’t have the strength to pull away. My limbs felt like lead. My head spun violently, the world tilting at strange, dizzying angles.

Rome reached into the car and grabbed a bottle of water and some tissues. He pressed the bottle into my hand gently, like I might break if he moved too fast.

"Rinse your mouth," he said. "Slowly."

I did, mostly because my body obeyed him before my pride could catch up. I spat onto the pavement, wiping my mouth with shaking hands.

Then the humiliation hit.

Bitter. Suffocating.

I laughed suddenly soft at first, then sharper, almost hysterical.

"Wow," I muttered. "Look at me."

Rome frowned. "Sylvia—"

"I must look really pathetic right now.." I continued, my words slurring slightly. "Throwing up... letting you hold my hair like this."

"That’s not—"

"I hate how you always get to see me at my worst," I snapped, finally turning my head to glare at him. "Do you enjoy that?"

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t let go of me.

"No," he said quietly. "You’re still drunk. You should rest. I’ll bring you home."

"No," I laughed bitterly. "I’m angry. And exhausted. And I hate you."

My vision blurred again.

"This is supposed to be a dream," I whispered. "But why does it feel so real?"

I laughed weakly.

"B-but whether it’s real or not...hikk"

The words started pouring out, unstoppable like vomiting had loosened something deep inside my chest.

"I still h-hate you so much, Rome."

He didn’t interrupt.

Didn’t correct me.

Didn’t defend himself.

So I kept going.

"You know what the worst part is?" I whispered, my voice shaking. "I blamed myself for everything...hikk.. For years. I thought I wasn’t good e-enough. That I was a coward..s-someone who always ran away whenever things became too hard, too painful."

My throat burned again, this time from something deeper than acid.

"I thought I did something w-wrong.." I continued, my voice breaking. "Even when I was carrying everything alone. Even when I never complained."

I laughed weakly.

"But it wasn’t just you," I said. "It was your mother."

Rome stiffened.

"What?" he asked.

That single word cracked something wide open.

"Oh,..hikk" I scoffed. "You didn’t know?"

I tried to push myself upright, swaying dangerously. Rome immediately wrapped an arm around my back, steadying me.

"She promised me," I said, my voice rising despite myself. "She sat me down. Smiled at me like I was already family. And she promised she would make sure you and I got married someday."

Rome’s brows knitted together. "My mother—?"

"She told me not to worry," I went on, tears blurring my vision. "She said I just had to be patient. That you were young, confused, busy—but that in the end, you would choose me."

My laugh came out broken.

"And then she married you off to another woman," I whispered. "No—worse. You married her as soon as I ran away."

Rome’s breath hitched sharply.

"She played me," I said. "She made me believe I had a future with you while she was arranging everything behind my back."

"That’s not—" He stopped himself, swallowing hard. "She never told me any of this."

"Of course she didn’t," I snapped. "S-she’s very good at pretending."

My hands curled into fists.

"You know how s-sweet she is in front of you?" I said bitterly. "H-how gentle. H-how kind. Like she’s the perfect mother?"

Rome said nothing.

"W-Well," I continued, my chest heaving, "she’s a completely different person when you’re not around."

The memories flooded back—sharp and cruel.

"She cornered me whenever we were alone," I whispered. "Smiling. Giving advice.... Acting like she was helping me."

Rome’s grip on me tightened.

"She told me I wasn’t worthy of you," I went on, my voice trembling with rage. "That you deserved better. That you were meant for a decent, rich girl—one of her friends’ daughters."

My tears fell freely now.

"She called me a rat," I spat. "Said I crawled my way into your life. Said I would never belong."

Rome’s face went pale.

"She told me you would leave me eventually," I continued. "That you’d wake up one day and realize how embarrassing I was to stand beside."

I laughed again—empty.

"And the worst part?" I whispered. "She was proud of it. P-Proud of how powerful she was...hikk...Proud of how easily she could crush me."

"Stop.." Rome said hoarsely.

But I couldn’t.

"She threatened me," I said. "Told me that if I didn’t leave you on my own, she would make you leave instead."

My breath came in sharp gasps.

"She said if I stayed, she would destroy you," I whispered. "Your future. Your name. Your inheritance."

Rome stared at me, shock written all over his face.

"And I believed her," I said quietly. "Because she already proved she could."

My knees buckled, and Rome pulled me closer so I wouldn’t fall.

"She’s the reason I couldn’t work anywhere," I went on weakly. "Every job I applied for was rejected. Every opportunity was blocked."

Rome’s eyes darkened. "What do you mean?"

"I was b-banned," I said flatly. "Blacklisted. No one told me why. I thought I was cursed."

I looked up at him through tears.

"But it was her," I whispered. "Your mother made sure no one would hire me."

His jaw clenched.

"She didn’t even know about the twins," I continued softly. "Because she told me she would never acknowledge my children as Haristons if I ever got pregnant."

My voice shook.

"She always made sure I drank contraceptives. Always."

I swallowed hard.

"So when I got pregnant..." I whispered, "...I ran."

I sagged against him completely.

"I hid them. I hid everything. I was terrified of what she’d do."

Rome shook his head slowly. "Sylvia..."

"She said she’d disown you," I whispered. "Said she’d rather lose a son than let him ruin his life with someone like me."

He closed his eyes.

"And I couldn’t do that to you," I sobbed. "So I ran. Pregnant. Broken. Terrified."

My strength drained away.

"I hated myself for loving you," I whispered. "B-Because loving you cost me everything..."

Rome didn’t speak for a long time.

When he finally did, his voice was tight, barely controlled.

"I didn’t know," he said. "You should have told me... I’m sorry I only learned everything now."

I laughed weakly against his chest.

"I t-tried," I murmured. "But you were your mother’s perfect son. Why ruin that image?"

My eyelids grew heavy.

"I hate her," I whispered. "And I hate you for not seeing it. For not protecting me."

His arms wrapped around me more tightly, like he was afraid I’d disappear again.

"I didn’t know," he said hoarsely. "I swear—I didn’t know."

I didn’t answer.

Sleep dragged me under.

"I’m so tired.." I murmured.

"I know," he said softly. "I’ve got you."

"I don’t want to wake up again," I whispered. "Not like this."

"You will," he said. "And I’ll be here."

"Liar.." I breathed.

But I didn’t fight him as he lifted me carefully and carried me back to the car.

The rest blurred together—streetlights, the hum of the engine, his voice on the phone.

"Alpheus," he said. "Go to Sylvia’s place. Stay with the kids tonight. Don’t let anyone in."

A pause.

"Yes. I’m taking her to my condo. She’s not well."

I drifted again.

The last thing I felt was Rome carrying me inside. And beneath the fog of sleep, one terrifying thought echoed in my mind.

If this is a dream...

Why does it hurt so much?

And if it isn’t—

Nothing will ever be the same again.