The hospital was Bailey's least favorite place. She would like to never step foot in this building if she could. The sterile smell of the hospital and the sound of cries in the other rooms as she passed earlier reminded her of all the things she lost.
She loathed it even more that Caleb was on the hospital bed. Why him? She thought.
Bailey sat at the foot of Caleb's bed. Margaret and Richard had left after spending hours at his side. It was way past 11 p.m. now, but she didn't have the heart to leave him in the hands of the nurses.
She wanted to be around him. The steady rise and fall of his chest assured Bailey that he was alive, but it also tightened the knot in her stomach as it could stop anytime.
Her mind spun thoughts she couldn't control, and her emotions were like a dam waiting to burst. Her face was devoid of emotions, like the usual her, but deep down, her emotions threatened to overpower her.
Slowly, everything that she had been holding back pressed on her like an elephant. Bailey's shoulders sagged and her hands trembled as she tucked a strand of wayward hair behind her ear. As if it took a lot of energy, she moved closer to Caleb, her fingers brushing slightly against his.
Reverently, she caressed his warm but lifeless hand. The lack of response sent a wave of sadness crashing over her.
She fought bravely, trying her best to keep her emotions in check. Bailey needed to be strong for Caleb and for the company. His enemies were like sharks waiting for the moment to strike, and if they found out the extent of his injuries, it would cost him everything.
Under her watch, Bailey wouldn't let it happen. She would do anything to prop up the company he worked so hard to build and to keep all those vultures away.
But now that she was all alone in the room with Caleb, there was no one left to pretend for. Her chest tightened as if she were suffocating and couldn't breathe.
"Caleb," a heartbreaking cry spilled out of Bailey's mouth. "You have to wake up, please. You have to get better. Don't be like this."
She kneeled, grabbing his hand as if praying. Unbidden tears fell from her eyes like a torrent. She had spent years hiding her feelings. The layers of professionalism buried her love for him, but now, with him lying on the bed, unmoving and unconscious, everything she did seemed so... pointless.
"I don't know what to do," she admitted quietly, her voice breaking. "I... I don't know how to help you. Tell me..."
Bailey's knees buckled, and she sank to the floor. She stopped caring about her as she leaned her head on the metal railing. As her emotions ran wild, she didn't care if anyone saw her falling apart.
"How much more can I take?" Bailey choked softly as sobs wracked her body. "Why does everything I love end up taken away from me?"
"Why?"She grabbed her hair as if pulling them out would lessen the pain in her heart.
With the very real possibility that he might never wake up, regret washed over her. Maybe she should have told him how she felt. Professionalism and boundaries be damned.
Suddenly, the door opened behind her. But Bailey didn't move. She couldn't stop crying long enough to lift her head.
"Bailey?"
The voice was soft and familiar, and Bailey slowly lifted her head, wiping at her tear-streaked face with the back of her hand. She turned to see Vincent Johnson standing in the doorway, his brow furrowed in concern.
"Vincent?" she whispered, her voice hoarse from crying.
"I knocked, but no one answered. I'm doing my rounds," he explained.
He stepped into the room, closing the door gently behind him. He was wearing his coat, a stethoscope hanging around his neck. His dark hair was slightly tousled from a long day at the hospital.
Bailey was surprised to see him. She hadn't seen him in what felt like a decade. Vincent and her... they were together in the past. He was her first boyfriend and her first heartbreak.
Vincent left to study abroad and pursue medicine. As for her, she had to work hard to make ends meet.
"It's been a while," Vincent said softly, coming closer to her. He gave her his hand, but Bailey didn't accept. "I didn't expect to see you... like this." He pulled his arm back with an awkward smile.
Bailey let out a shaky breath, trying to pull herself together as she stood up. She forced a weak smile, but it quickly faded. "I didn't expect it either."
Silence reigned between them. Bailey was in no mood to converse, and Vince was checking up on Caleb.
"Caleb's a friend," he said as he finished checking the IV. "I didn't know that... you're involved with him."
It was as if his eyes were asking if they're "involved" in a more personal relationship.
It seemed he got the idea when he saw her crying like there was no tomorrow. She was embarrassed, so she didn't correct him.
Bailey bit her lip to keep it from trembling again. "He's... he's important to me. I'm actually working for him..." she trailed off.
Vincent nodded, his eyes staring at her as if he could see through her soul. "That's good to hear. Having you around will probably make him better faster."
Bailey smiled sadly, hoping in her heart that his words were true. She thought that Isabelle's presence would probably help him more.
But a selfish part of her agreed with Margaret. Isabell was a problem.
He explained to her his current condition. If they wanted to ensure that he recovered to normal, he must wake up within the next 48 hours. If not, it would be touch and go for him.
Bailey swallowed hard, her eyes welling up again. "But what if he doesn't wake up?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "What if…"
Vincent touched her arm, and he leaned in closer, his voice low and soothing. "He's strong, Bailey. And he has you here, fighting for him. That means something."
Bailey shook her head, the tears spilling over again. She had a lot of words she wanted to say, but she couldn't bring herself to say them.
Vincent's eyes softened, and for a moment, there was something there—something unspoken. He looked at her the same way he did in the past.
"Do you really think he'll make it?" she asked, her voice trembling.
Vincent hesitated, glancing at Caleb again. "I don't know," he admitted, his honesty cutting through the air like a knife. "But I've seen people come back from worse. And Caleb... he's a fighter."
Bailey's shoulders slumped. "I don't know how to get through this. Everything's falling apart."
Vincent's expression softened even more, and his hand slid from her arm to her hand, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary. "Bailey, you're not alone in this. I'm here for you. Whatever you need."
His words softened the blow in her heart. Their gazes locked, and his familiar smile made her heart skip a bit. But she looked away immediately, stepping back.
"Thank you for your advice, but you should instead talk to Margaret about this. They're his family." She cleared her throat, avoiding him.
Vincent, seeing that he seemed to have overstayed his welcome, told her, "I'm going now. I still have rounds. I'll be at the station."
She heard the door close behind her.
Bailey closed her eyes and took a deep breath. How bad was fate playing her that when she was having her breakdown, it was her ex who saw her? And her ex happened to be a friend of her boss—her unrequited love.
___
Bailey drove home at around 2 a.m.
As she was driving at the intersection near her place, her phone rang. It was a red light, so she stopped.
"Hello?," she answered, but there was no sound on the other end. Prank call? She checked the number, and it was unfamiliar.
Bailey canceled the call and placed her phone on the dashboard. The light turned green, and she sped up, eager to rest as she had an early start tomorrow. She missed her bed.
Suddenly, a glaring light blinded her, and she could make out something speeding toward her due to the sound of the engine. Her heart jumped into her throat, but a freezing calmness took over her in a blink of an eye.
Bailey turned the wheel to the right as a truck barreled toward her. Her tires screeched against the pavement as it missed her by mere inches. It roared past her like an unstoppable bullet.
Bailey's car spun out of control, her body jolting from side to side as she fought to regain control of the vehicle. The world almost tilted violently as her car skidded across the road, coming to a stop on the shoulder.
She sat there, frozen, unable to move. Her mind was a whirlwind of shock, fear, and adrenaline. She checked the rearview mirror, expecting to see the truck, but it had disappeared down the road, its taillights fading into the distance like a nightmare.
Her phone rang on the dashboard, jarring her out of her daze. She glanced at the screen—it was the same unknown number that had called her earlier.
With a shaky hand, Bailey picked up the phone and answered, her voice rough from the shock. "Hello?"
This time, there was a voice on the other end, low and distorted, almost as if someone was speaking through a voice modulator.
"Stay away from Caleb."
Bailey's blood ran cold. "Who is this?" she demanded, her voice rising.
The line went dead.
The phone slipped from her hand, falling onto the passenger seat with a dull thud. Bailey stared at it, her mind racing. Who called her? Was it Isabelle?
She pieced together the events. The truck... the phone call... It wasn't a coincidence. Someone tried to kill her. Someone who wanted her to stay away from Caleb.
"Isabelle Laurent..." she murmured. "Did she do it?"
Bailey's hands trembled as she started the car again, her mind spinning with questions. Then a nagging thought surfaced in her mind.
What if Caleb's accident wasn't an accident at all?
She needed answers.