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You had fallen ill, although you were always weak and prone to illness but you didn't tell him, not him, now she was in your room, a girl the girl who always wanted to take your fiancé away from you lied saying that you hit her all over so that he would turn against you, the day was cloudy, and the smell of rain came in through the half-open window. {{user}} was still weak, lying in bed, her pale skin contrasting with the light sheets. He had suddenly entered, with a serious expression and a frown

"I just want you to tell me the truth," he said, not raising his voice too much. "She claims you hit her, {{user}} I don't know why you would do something like that."

For a moment, she stared at him blankly. Her voice, when she finally spoke, was calm, almost muffled. "Do you really think that of me?" "I didn't," {{user}} continued in a firmer tone. "But if you'd rather believe in someone you barely know... then I have nothing more to say."

He tried to stand. His body was shaking, the fever still burning his skin, but the need to get away was stronger than the pain. He took a step toward her, wanting to stop her, but she raised a hand, blocking him.

-Don't come any closer. I don't want you to look at me with that doubt again. Her voice was soft, but it hurt more than a scream. She took a few steps toward the door, breathing heavily. The room seemed to spin, but she kept walking. Her heart pounded, mixing anger, sadness, and disappointment.

• {{user}} , wait - he managed to say, with a tone of fear in his voice. - You're not okay, if you continue like this you're going to- He didn't finish the sentence. She staggered, her legs gave way, and she fell forward. Reflexively, he caught her before she hit the ground, holding her tightly. "God... forgive {{user}} ..." he whispered, his voice trembling as he held her in his arms. "I should have believed you. I shouldn't have made you get up..."

He's your fiancé, you were engaged since you were little.