My dad stood frozen in shock, unable to speak as the police dragged Crystal away. Meanwhile, Raymond was bleeding heavily, and I had to apply pressure to his wound, desperately waiting for the ambulance. Devastation weighed heavily on me, but I kept talking to him, urging him to stay conscious until we reached the hospital.
I quickly instructed the new director to take charge of the surgery. Despite trusting him, my mind couldn't find peace. I kept a close eye on the procedure, watching every movement in the operating room. Each time the thought of losing Raymond crossed my mind, I slapped myself to stay grounded and remind myself that I needed to stay strong.
The surgery was a success, but Raymond didn't show any signs of movement through the night. I stayed by his side, anxiety gnawing at me.
After hours of waiting, I went home to check on my dad. I found him sitting on the floor, crying like a child who'd lost his candy. I did my best to comfort him, cooking his favorite meal and badmouthing Crystal to distract him from his sorrow.
Then, I received a call from the president. Raymond had gone back into the operating room. My heart sank. I rushed back to the hospital, my mind racing with worry. I went straight to the operating room, but there was nothing I could do.
I returned to his bed, sitting by his side, unwilling to leave him, watching and waiting for any sign of improvement.
"Madam, you've been here for three days now. You need to rest," Doctor Rex said gently. "Trust me, I'll take good care of your secretary until you return. He's in good hands."
"I'm fine, Doctor Rex. I just want to be here when he wakes up," I replied, my voice tired but determined.
He sighed, his expression softening. "I understand, but you don't look well. If you don't go home and rest, you'll end up on the sickbed too. I promise I'll call you the moment he wakes up."
I knew deep down that I was starting to wear thin, so I reluctantly headed home. When I arrived, my dad was still wallowing in misery over Crystal. I couldn't bring myself to engage with him, so I went straight to bed. I just couldn't understand how he had been blind to her manipulation all these years. What young woman would marry a man who looked like my father?
The next day, he insisted on visiting Mom's grave. He knelt there, tears streaming down his face as he mourned. It broke my heart to see him like that. Afterward, he insisted on going to the police station to see Crystal. I tried to talk him out of it, but he was determined, and I had no choice but to go along with him.
It was a terrible mistake. The moment we left the station, he collapsed. I knew then that her words had taken their toll on him.
At the hospital, I ran some tests and found his condition had worsened. He was immediately admitted for chemotherapy. Just as I was processing all this, I received a call from the director. Raymond had finally woken up.
I rushed to his room, and when I walked in, I was surprised to find him laughing and chatting with the nurses on duty, as though nothing had happened.
"Don't you nurses have anything else to do?" I snapped. "You just woke up from a five-day coma, and the first thing you do is flirt with them? You didn't even ask about me."
Raymond grinned, his eyes glinting mischievously. "Am I sensing a bit of jealousy in the air?"
I rolled my eyes, trying to keep my composure. "Jealous? Please. I'm just worried. How's the pain?"
A few days later, Raymond was discharged from the hospital, and I drove him home. The entire journey, he sat in the back, looking distant and unhappy. I glanced at him through the rearview mirror, concerned.
"Are you uncomfortable back there?" I asked. His face was scrunched in a way that made me uneasy.
"I'm fine," he replied curtly before I could ask any further questions.
We arrived home, and his strange attitude didn't improve. I could tell something was off. It wasn't just physical discomfort; he seemed upset with me, with everything. I offered to help him out of the car, but he pushed my hand away.
"I'm fine," he repeated, but there was an edge in his voice this time.
Frustration started building inside me. His behavior made no sense. I hadn't seen him act this way before. He shut the door behind him as soon as he entered, leaving me standing there, confused.
I decided to speak with the director, who had been so helpful in keeping me calm through all of this. Our conversation flowed smoothly, but just as I started to relax, a shout echoed from his apartment.
I rushed to his room, my heart racing. "Raymond?" I called out, knocking on the door.
"I'm in pain," he said, holding his chest dramatically.
I could see right through his act. The way he was holding himself didn't match what he was saying. It was embarrassing.
I wasn't going to play along. "I'm going to let the director know," I said, turning to leave. I walked the director outside to continue our conversation, but Raymond came out shortly after, almost as if he were looking for something to get attention. "I feel like swimming," he muttered.
Swimming? After being discharged from the hospital just days ago? It made no sense. I couldn't help but feel irritated by the ridiculousness of it all.
Taking the director out for a drive, I tried to clear my mind, but when we returned home, I found Raymond sitting alone in the garden, his shoulders shaking.
He was crying.
It was the first time I'd ever seen him cry, and it shocked me. I secretly snapped a photo, just in case I ever needed ammunition for later. His walking was unsteady like he could barely stand. I quickly went to him, my anger fading into concern as I helped him inside. Something was off with him, his mood, his behavior but I couldn't quite figure out what.
"Raymond, what's your problem with the new director?" I asked, trying to stay calm. "Yesterday, you embarrassed me, but I played it cool for the sake of keeping things professional. But what if my staff sees you acting this way around me? They might lose respect for me."
He crossed his arms, his expression hard. "I don't like him around you," he said, his tone bitter. "I feel a toxic vibe from him. Plus, he's young, handsome... you might be fooled by his looks."
I shook my head in disbelief. "Raymond, I brought him here because of you. I thought he could take care of you, help with your recovery. But now, because of your attitude, I had to make him leave. I did this because I see you as the younger brother I never had."
He glared at me, his voice rising with frustration. "I don't need him here. I've got you, don't I?"
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. His jealousy was suffocating, and it wasn't just about the director anymore, it was about his insecurity and possessiveness. But instead of arguing further, I decided to ignore his complaints.
"Fine," I said, trying to keep my tone neutral. "But I'm calling the director back over. He'll be here to check on your injury until you're fully healed." I didn't wait for his response.
It wasn't just Raymond I was worried about anymore, it was everything that was becoming more complicated between us. The director was competent and had helped the hospital a lot, and I wanted to make sure I expressed my appreciation.
When he arrived later, we spoke briefly about the improvements he'd made. I'd invited him to sit down, making sure he felt acknowledged for his hard work. I wanted to keep it professional, but I couldn't deny the comfort he brought. I liked having him around; his calm and gentle presence was a stark contrast to the tension I was feeling at home.
Suddenly, the door to my office creaked open, and there was Raymond, standing in the doorway. He hadn't knocked. His eyes flicked between the director and me, and I could already feel the shift in the air.
Before I could say anything, Raymond stormed over, his anger radiating. His next movement was shocking, without a word, he grabbed me by the waist, his lips crashing against mine.
I froze, momentarily stunned by his boldness, the sharpness of his jealousy fueling his actions. The director looked on, his face unreadable, but there was an undeniable tension in the room now.
I was too stunned to react at first. His jealousy was so raw, it overwhelmed the room. I pulled back quickly, trying to make sense of the situation, but Raymond wasn't done.
His words came out harshly, aimed squarely at the director. "Director," he said, his voice low and biting, "the CEO is taken. Go find yourself another woman."
I felt a pang of confusion and frustration. Was this really happening? What was I supposed to say or do now? The tension in the room was unbearable, and I could see the director's expression falter for a moment, though he didn't say anything. It was clear that this wasn't the way I wanted things to unfold.