I immediately grabbed some cotton from the kit, then reached for the alcohol and soaked the cotton with it.
As I prepared to clean the wound, I noticed Rome watching my every move. He looked tense—and even swallowed nervously.
That made me chuckle.
Was he… scared of alcohol?
"You better relax. I'm just cleaning your wound," I said with a teasing grin. "You're a grown man, and yet you're still scared of alcohol? Come on, it's not even that painful."
He frowned. "What are you talking about? I'm not scared. I'm just worried you'll drown my face in alcohol with how much you poured onto that tiny piece of cotton!"
I smirked as I raised the alcohol-soaked cotton toward his face.
Instinctively, he flinched and leaned away, but I was faster. I grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked him toward me, forcing his face closer as I pressed the cotton roughly against the cut on his cheek.
"Ow—what the—!" he exclaimed, jerking back as he glared at me with wide, furious eyes. His whole face twisted in pain and irritation.
I couldn't help it—I burst into laughter.
"Tsk… I know you're mad at me, but I didn't expect you'd get your revenge right after I saved you… Tsk! What a coldhearted woman!" he said, his glare still sharp and unrelenting.
"Haha… I'm so sorry, okay?" I replied with a laugh. "Alright, let me finish cleaning that wound. Come here."
"Tsk… and you're even laughing at me…" he muttered, but still moved closer.
"Be gentle, alright?" he added, making me smile as I began tending to the wound again.
Just like he asked, I was gentle this time. I only used a small amount of alcohol on the cotton and carefully dabbed it over the cut, softly wiping away the dried blood from the earlier scuffle.
I didn't even realize how focused I'd become—my attention locked entirely on treating the wound. It wasn't until I felt the weight of his stare that I noticed Rome looking intensely at me, his gaze heavy with unspoken emotion.
If not for that feeling, I might not have looked up and met his eyes—eyes that seemed to be silently pleading with me.
The moment I did, I quickly looked away, flustered, and hurried to finish placing a bandage over the wound I had just cleaned.
A heavy, deafening silence settled between us after I avoided his gaze and subtly stepped back. His eyes were filled with too much emotion—too much for me to handle in that moment.
"S-Sylvia… why?" he finally broke the silence.
I froze.
"Why?" he repeated, his voice low but aching. I found myself glancing at him.
"Why did you do that to me?" he asked. "Why, even after everything you did… even after you left me… why can't I forget you?"
His voice cracked.
"But what I really want to know is… why did you lie to me? W-Why did you betray me?"
I couldn't explain the look in his eyes. There was hurt, confusion—maybe even hope. But it only made something in me snap.
"Huh…"
I let out a sharp breath as I turned away from him, frustration bubbling in my chest.
"What do you mean why?" I snapped, my eyes narrowing at him. "You're asking me why? You're really calling me the one who betrayed you?"
I shook my head in disbelief.
"Wasn't it you who ruined our relationship first? Wasn't it you who chose to marry another woman—while I was left alone, judged, and humiliated by your family?!"
I took a step forward, my anger rising.
"And now you're asking why I hurt you? Rome, you were the one who broke your promises! You told me we'd get married—but instead, you married someone else!"
My voice cracked, but I pushed through the storm inside me.
"For God's sake, Rome! Don't look at me like that—like I'm the one who caused all this! Don't make it sound like I'm the only one at fault, when I don't even understand what kind of betrayal you're accusing me of!"
I shook my head, scoffing bitterly.
"You said I cheated on you? Really? Where the hell is that coming from?!"
I stared at him—breath heavy, chest heaving. The nerve—he had the nerve to claim I was the one who cheated?
Unbelievable.
He shot me a sharp glare—but I didn't flinch. I met his gaze head-on, just as cold, just as fierce. I stood my ground, letting him see that I was no longer the same woman he could intimidate into silence with just a look.
Not anymore.
I'd spent years fighting to keep my two children alive—scraping by, enduring judgment, loneliness, and the countless moments life tried to break me. And through it all, I learned to stand up and fight back.
"You're telling me I betrayed you? That I cheated on you?" I said, my voice trembling with restrained rage. "How dare you! You were the one sneaking around behind my back! While I was putting my full trust in you, you were already busy destroying it!"
His expression hardened.
"So now I'm the bastard?!" he barked. "You're accusing me of hiding things—when you're the one who cheated—"
"Damn right you are!" I cut him off, stepping closer, the fire in my chest blazing.
"You want to talk about secrets? You brought another woman into our house—into the home we shared—and introduced her in front of your entire family as your fiancée, while I was still wearing the ring you gave me!"
My voice cracked, but I pushed through. "And now you expect me to believe I was the one playing games?! You made me a fool, Rome. You humiliated me!"
"What?! You're calling me the fool now?!" he shouted, his eyes wild with fury.
"Yes! You're the biggest damn fool I've ever known!" I yelled back, my voice raw with fury. "A lying, arrogant, shameless bastard! A womanizer who hides behind his last name like it actually means something! You're just like the rest of your arrogant family. All you people ever do is belittle others and crush them under your feet!"
"What does my family have to do with this?!" he snapped. "This is between us! Don't drag them into it!"
His jaw clenched tight, the muscles in his face twitching as his fists curled at his sides. He was livid—seething.
But so was I.
And this time, I wasn't backing down.