Richard's POV
It's been two hours and twenty-five minutes since she lost consciousness.
Despite the doctor's assurance that she is fine and just asleep, I keep pressing my hand on her forehead and putting a finger in the middle of her nostril at intervals to check for some more assurance that she is indeed fine and alive. I don't want her to disappear, as she did years ago.
This is my chance to make things right. Seeing her fall to the ground with a thud got me extremely worried.
With Ashley's assistance, we rushed her to the hospital affiliated with the company. The hospital is conveniently located near the company.
My mother built the hospital there to care for employees in the event of an industrial accident.
Suddenly, two pairs of brown almond eyes meet mine, making me take my hand off her forehead and sit upright. It's been two hours and thirty minutes. She has been out for that long.
As I stare at her speechless, I notice beads of sweat on her forehead, reminding me of the doctor's demand that I let him know as soon as she was awake.
Without a word, I move out silently. If I wasn't the CEO of the affiliated company, he wouldn't have allowed anyone in.
I knew the rules, but I bent them for her sake. I was dying with curiosity and worry. It didn't feel right for her to lose consciousness all of a sudden.
Something was wrong somewhere.
“Mr. Giodano”, the doctor's familiar voice, calls to him. He approaches, and I stop walking.
“She is awake. Can you come to see her now?” I demand from him.
I'm sure she'd want to go home, considering leaving Daisy alone.
“Sure,” he nods before walking forward while I follow. I am tempted to ask him for the umpteenth time if she is indeed fine and if there is nothing to worry about.
That will arouse his curiosity. My show of concern is becoming too much. I didn't care about that when I panicked right in my office when she collapsed, and I screamed out Ashley's name before picking her up and running all the way here.
I must have looked like a crazy man. Perhaps I appeared as a young man who was deeply in love with the unconscious woman. My employees will talk.
The door opens from inside, and I raise a brow before exchanging glances with the doctor. Just before any of us can say anything, Arabel comes out looking extremely pale.
“What…”
“I'm fine,” she cuts me short with an assuring smile. I turn to the doctor, and she does the same.
“Doctor, I'm fine, aren't I?”
“Let's talk for a minute, Mrs. Portillo'', he answers sharply and she goes back obediently and moves to sit on the edge of the bed.
She is clasping her bag tightly and looking like someone who will soon make for the door if this takes time.
“When was the last time you went for a check-up?” The doctor demands, making my pulse spike.
Is something wrong with her?
Arabel also looks surprised at the question, but she is quick to disguise it as she replies with confidence.
“A year, I think”, she answers calmly.
“When was the last time you had at least 8 hours of sleep?” He asks again, looking serious and causing my heart to skip a beat.
She remains silent for a while before answering. “It's been a while.”
He nods.
“Well, your blood pressure is a bit high, and I will recommend you to a bed rest for the next two weeks. After that, I want you to come back for a check-up. Is that fine with you?” She looks thoughtful for a while before biting her lower lip.
She nods. “It's fine.”
The doctor turns to me. “She will be fine as long as she takes her medications and sticks to my advice.”
“Ok. Is that all?” I ask, hoping there is nothing more.
“Yes, she can go home already.”
With that, he nods at me slightly before walking out, leaving the two of us alone in complete silence. She is staring down and biting her lips.
For a moment, I want to ask if she knew about the blood pressure or if this isn't the first time she has collapsed out of the blues.
What exactly has she been doing that she hasn't been resting well for her blood pressure to go up that way?
I want to question her, but a reminder that we are both pretending to be strangers to each other hits me.
“I can take you home…”
“No, no!” She chants, shooting to her feet instantly. “I can go home on my own. I'm fine, really.”
“No,” I protest with a firm tone. “I am taking you home!”
Now is not the time to be stubborn and angry with me.
“Honestly, it's fine,” She rises up again, moving towards the door in a hurry. I am not quick enough to stop her until she is already out of the door, half-running out.
“Mrs. Portillo,” I call out, running after her. I know I am not supposed to be doing this. It is unlike me, but I am not letting her go alone. I won't let her take a cab home. I have to take her home myself.
She slumped in my office, and I must ensure she is back home safe and sound.
Just before I can get to her, she bumps into someone, making her stop running.
Glad at the fortunate bump, I slow down too, taking long strides towards her and thinking of how else to convince her to let me take her home when I see her hugging the man before her.
I halt.
It's the young dude from the other day. The one I mistook for her husband. Now I know he isn't her husband because my sources told me she is single, but there is no assurance they aren't dating.
Jealousy courses through my veins. I curse under my breath and move closer, feeling upset for no reason.
Well, I am mad at this guy. If he hadn't shown up, I would have succeeded in convincing her to let me take her home. I would have an opportunity to see Daisy again.
But now, he has ruined it.
Who the hell does he think he is?
“Hello,” I stop abruptly in front of them, interrupting their conversation.
Possessively, he pulls her to his side and wraps his left hand around her shoulder, stretching his right hand for a handshake.
“Hi,” he mutters, flashing a smile that does not reach his eyes. It makes me wonder if Arabel told him about me and everything about us, including the divorce. The anger flashing on and off behind his pupils says it all.
We are upset with each other for different reasons. I take his hand even though it is against my wish, but I have to keep up with this act, no matter how silly it is.
This is not the moment to reveal any secrets. I am aware that if I continue to witness this man acting possessively like a hero, I might lose my composure eventually.
“Thank you for bringing her to the hospital. I will have the bill sorted out,” he mentions, letting go of my hand as soon as we shake.
“I have that sorted out already,” I respond to him with authority.
The hospital is mine, and I will decide whether her bill is worth sorting out by someone like him or not. Besides, Arabel is family.
Suddenly, it hits me. Arabel was here once, before our divorce. She knew about the hospital. I guess this is why she was able to fathom what she was doing and how she quickly made to leave.
To evade my attention, she must have texted this guy to come pick her up.
Really? How long is she going to keep up with this pretense?
“I can sort it out if you don't mind. She is my responsibility…”
“Don't mind!” I am on the verge of revealing myself, confronting him directly, my eyes blazing with anger.
The word responsibility has my blood boiling. Silence ensues until she clears her throat, jerking us both out of our reverie.
“Thank you,” the guy says politely, making me narrow my eyes away and face Arabel. Before I can finish speaking, she seizes his hand and plasters on a phony grin.
“Thank you, Mr. Giodano. Bye.” She then hurries away with the lanky dude, who keeps throwing me a death stare. I watch in anger till they get into the car and drive off before my mind spins back to the doctor's instructions.
The medication.
Arabel forgot to take them. I turn back to go meet the doctor for the medications as a fresh idea makes its way into my head.
My heart swells at the new opportunity, and I grin widely in excitement.