Chapter 11

William clutched his head, completely baffled. “Married? I don’t even have a girlfriend!” “Still denying it?” his mom snapped, giving him a couple of sharp smacks. “That girl literally called! She said she’s your wife!” “You idiot! Even if you got married in secret, fine—but now you’ve messed up so badly she wants a divorce? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Katherine chimed in dramatically, “Totally! You must have been ignoring her. She probably couldn’t take your cold shoulder anymore!” William hugged his head tighter, practically growling. “Okay, okay! Mom, stop hitting me. Just let me check my phone before you jump to conclusions.” That finally got his mother to calm down a bit. He massaged his sore head, wincing, and scrolled through his messages—immediately, his face darkened with anger. “Mom, I swear I’m single! I don’t even know this woman! She sent me some weird texts a few days ago, and I thought she had the wrong number. Now it looks like she’s trying to scam me!” Both his mom and sister eyed him skeptically. “Seriously?” He looked dead serious. “I swear—if I secretly got married and messed around with this woman, may I never have another peaceful day!” His mom slapped him again. “Ugh, shut your mouth! Don’t say things like that! May the gods not take you seriously. You’d better live a long, long life, got it?” After clearing up the misunderstanding, William angrily blocked Alice’s number. If he weren’t above stooping to her level, he would’ve already tracked her down and given her a piece of his mind. —— Meanwhile, Alice was sprawled on her couch, bored out of her mind while waiting for a call. She turned on a random drama and mindlessly munched on cucumber-flavored chips. She waited and waited until she was almost asleep… Then finally—her phone rang! She jolted upright and grabbed it—only to see it wasn’t the call she’d been hoping for. It was Edward. He never called her this late. This was a first. Alice sobered up immediately and answered quickly. “Mr. Hawthorne?” But the voice she heard wasn’t his. “Hello? Is this Ms. Sterling? Your husband collapsed while playing squash at our club. He was clutching his stomach in pain and passed out. The paramedics just arrived; he’s on his way to the hospital. You need to get there now.” Her face froze. “I’m his secretary, not his wife. But thank you for letting me know. Our company will follow up. Can you tell me which hospital? I’ll head there right away.” The guy on the line sounded flustered. “Oh, my bad—he had you listed as his emergency contact, so I assumed… anyway, he’s being taken to Nova Hospital. Better hurry.” As soon as the call ended, Alice threw on fresh clothes and dashed out the door. Luckily, The Lodge Apartments were just six kilometers from Nova Hospital—it only took about ten or fifteen minutes by cab. When she burst into the hospital room, a doctor was already hooking Edward up to an IV. “Mr. Hawthorne, are you okay?” Alice rushed to the bed, and her heart sank. The usually commanding, no-nonsense man looked pale as a ghost. His eyes were shut tight, long lashes trembling as though he were fighting through waves of pain. He cracked his eyes open slightly when he saw her, but he couldn’t even speak—just shut them again, clearly suffering. The doctor beside the bed, Charles Bennett, turned around when he heard her. His brows lifted slightly when he saw her pretty, gentle face. “And you are…?” Slightly out of breath from rushing, Alice replied, “I’m his secretary.” “Secretary?” Charles Bennett leaned his hands on the hospital bed rail, eyeing the weakened Edward with a teasing grin. “Dragging your secretary here after work hours? Impressive. Where’s that wife of yours? Shouldn’t she be the one taking care of you?” Alice froze for a second. Wait, is this guy a friend of Mr. Hawthorne’s? But come to think of it, he kinda had a point. Shouldn’t the lady of the house be handling this? Edward’s eyes snapped open, sharp as ice, shooting daggers straight at Charles. “Alright, alright.” Charles raised his hands in mock surrender. “Forget I said anything.” Alice didn’t bother figuring out their relationship. Her top priority was knowing how her boss was doing. “Doctor, how is Mr. Hawthorne’s condition?” Charles grinned. “Oh, he’ll live.” Alice blinked, sneaking a glance at Edward. “That’s—not very reassuring.” Charles chuckled at her awkward but clearly unamused expression. “Don’t stress. This is how he always is,” he said. “Knows he’s got a serious stomach issue and still skips meals. To make it worse, he drinks on an empty stomach. Honestly, it’s like he’s asking for it.” Alice was genuinely surprised. Edward had such a serious condition? And he still drank… yeah, that was pretty much self-sabotage. On the bed, Edward cracked open his eyes and rasped, “Charles, do you have a death wish?” Charles casually adjusted the IV drip. “If someone like you is still kicking, how could I be tired of living?” Alice pressed her lips together and cleared her throat, trying to break up their bickering. “Um, thank you for your help, Dr. Bennett. Is there anything special I should keep an eye on?” Charles replied without skipping a beat. “Nope.” Alice stared—he always answered like this? “With him?” Charles scoffed. “I could nag him a hundred times, and it’d go in one ear and out the other. Might as well save my breath. If it gets worse, we’ll just remove part of the stomach. Quick fix.” Alice broke into a cold sweat and swallowed hard. This doctor really had zero filter. Edward’s already stone-cold face turned even darker, as if a storm were brewing. His gaze sliced toward Charles. “Do your job and get out.” Yeah… if he weren’t so weak, Alice was pretty sure Mr. Hawthorne would’ve tossed the doctor out the window by now. Charles dropped his hands into his coat pockets and shook his head with a sigh. “Okay, okay, take it easy. You’re this close to internal bleeding. Chill with that temper.” “I’ve got a minor surgery to get to,” he said, turning to Alice. “His stomach’s fragile right now. No solids. Go grab something gentle like oatmeal for him later.” Alice nodded, mentally taking notes. “Got it. Thanks, Doctor. I’ll handle it.” “Mm-hm. If anything comes up, talk to the nurses. If they can’t solve it, they’ll let me know.” “Okay.” Just as he reached the door, Charles stopped and turned back, flashing a slow, mischievous smile at Alice. “By the way, I didn’t get your name.” Alice stuck to business. “Alice.” “Sterling…” Charles narrowed his eyes slightly, saying the name slowly, almost as if tasting it, then glanced over at Edward, who’d closed his eyes again. His smile deepened. “Pretty name.” “Oh, before I forget—play some music while he sleeps, yeah? There’s a speaker by the bed. Helps him doze off.” Then he was gone. Music? Alice glanced over at the small white speaker on the bedside table. It was clearly placed there on purpose. Hospitals were supposed to be quiet—who puts a speaker by a patient’s bed? Still a bit puzzled, she looked down at Edward and asked, “Mr. Hawthorne, I’ll head out to grab your oatmeal later. But… do you want me to arrange for someone to stay and watch over you?”