Chapter 12
Latrina didn’t know how much time had passed when she woke up because of her stomachache.
It was only then that she realized it was already evening. She was surprised she’d slept so long. Fumbling to turn on the light, she found herself unable to stand. Her stomach ached violently.
She’d been back from abroad for over a year, with few friends. The only ones she could truly confide in were Monique and Kelvin.
Monique’s call wasn’t put through, so Latrina tried calling Kelvin. He was still on vacation, but luckily, he picked up.
“Madam, what’s wrong this time?” Kelvin’s voi
came through.
“Kelvin…” She was sweating profusely, too weak to move.
Kelvin, sensing something was wrong, pressed quickly,“Are you sick? Where are you? Can you move?”
Faced with the flurry of questions, Latrina could barely respond.“Come… pick me up at my place… um.
Her vision blurred, consciousness fading.
Less than ten minutes later, she heard banging at the door.
The door crashed open.
“Latrina!” A familiar voice reached her ears.“What the hell!”
His tone was sharp, laced with reproach, and a hint of concern.
Her frail body was lifted into his arms, and she caught that familiar, pleasant scent again. It was a faint whiff of sandalwood. When she woke up, she was lying in a private hospital room.
“You’re awake.” The voice was familiar.
She turned her head slowly, meeting the face that made countless girls swoon.
He was still in a suit, black shirt, black tie. He stood over her, gazing down, just as he had been that night.
Latrina blamed herself, “Oh my goodness, stop thinking about that day…”
“Mr. Crowley, why are you here?” Latrina felt her cheeks flush.
“Kelvin’s on leave.”
Gerhart had his hands in his pockets. He didn’t say anything else and just kept his eyes on her.
“Thank you.” She let out a breath, thinking, “It’s him again, lingering in my life.
She thought,“Are we really connected? Why can’t I shake him off?”
“Still hurting?” he asked.
“No, it’s better.”
‘Does your salad taste good?”
Latrina was silent.
He must have seen the uneaten salad in the kitchen and knew she only ate at dinner. “Where’s your boyfriend?” Gerhart fixed his gaze on her, as if searching her eyes for answers. “Died yesterday.
Latrina didn’t want his criticism. She was unlucky enough; no need to make it worse.
He pressed his lips together, nodding slowly.“Good news, though.”
Just then, a doctor walked in.
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“Gerhart, here’s her stomach medication. Make sure she takes it on time. She can be discharged tomorrow if all goes well. And you, take better
care of her!”
The fifty–something female doctor seemed close to him, like an acquaintance.
“Got it, Aunt Carol.” Gerhart took the medicine.
Aunt Carol…
Latrina became nervous, thinking, “Great, now there’s going to be a misunderstanding!”
They chatted briefly at the door before “Aunt Carol” left.
“Can I leave tonight?” She wanted to escape.
Gerhart set the medicine on the nightstand and sat beside her bed.“No.”
Latrina’s glance fell on the faint red mark on his left cheek. She fidgeted awkwardly, still thinking about the day she’d slapped him.
He didn’t seem the least bit awkward. His phone kept ringing, but he made no move to leave.
Mr. Crowley, your order.”
A young woman stepped in.
Gerhart finally rose from the bed, that imposing frame shifting.
The woman set up a tray over the bed and laid out the food.
Latrina stared. There were three dishes and a soup, all from Tastebud Delights, looking as elegant as ever.
“Eat
Cer
- up.
This is for you.” Gerhart unwrapped a set of cutlery and held out a fork.“Friend discount, 40 dollars–your idiot tax for starving yourself. Remember to transfer it.”
Latrina looked at the fork, then at his large hand, almost model–worthy. She took it and started eating. This was her first meal since the night before.
She thought, “Huh? He’s calling me an idiot.
“Fine, for that deadbeat, I really shouldn’t have starved myself.”
“Any friends who can stay with you tonight?” Gerhart asked.
“Don’t worry, I won’t die. No need for anyone to stay.”
“All right. I’ve got other matters. The lady at the door is my secretary, Cassie Dougherty. Ask her for anything, or message me.” Gerhart checked his watch, ready to leave, but paused, turning back.“Didn’t your boyfriend just ‘die‘? Have you thought about the question I asked last time?”
Latrina nearly choked, a mouthful of food still in her mouth.
‘Gerhart, be reasonable. I really don’t want to get married now.” Latrina totally lost her appetite.
Ever since Gerhart found out about Eduardo, he’d been haunting her. It felt like he’d come prepared, like this was all part of some plan.
“Fine, I’ll drop it” Gerhart’s face stayed neutral as he walked out.
Latrina watched his back, suddenly feeling her words had been too sharp. After all, he’d been the one to get her to the hospital.
At Tilton Bar, Gerhart lifted his glass, sipping slowly.
Beside him sat his cousin, Rayan Compton.
“First time I’ve seen a girl turn you down. And she never even fawns over you. What a wild girl. No wonder you’re into her.”
‘Not sure if it’s that. Gerhart looked quite unsettled.
‘Come on, this isn’t into her?” Rayan tilted his head, glancing at him.
“You bring her up every time we meet. And that hickey on your neck, has it faded yet?”
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Rayan chuckled and shook his head.
Gerhart rubbed his forehead. Lately, he’d found himself thinking of Latrina far too often. Even in silence, just seeing her put him at ease.
“Sorry, Mr. Crowley.” Latrina’s apology popped up.
“It’s fine.” Gerhart glanced at it, replying at once.
“Thank you, Mr. Crowley.”
My pleasure.”
“This is the dinner fee,40 dollars.”
Gerhart paused, took a sip of his drink, then refunded her transfer.
“Your treat next time.”
The typing indicator flickered on her end, but no message came.
He frowned, a lazy flicker in his dark eyes.
Rayan’s right. If you didn’t like her, would you have gone yourself? Dialing 911 would’ve been simpler.‘ Kenzo Merrill, sitting beside him, tapped his glass.
Gerhart said nothing. Her bright, charming eyes appeared in his mind–clear and sparkling like a lake.
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The next day, Gerhart handled Latrina’s discharge and sent her home.
“You’re moving?” Gerhart glanced at the cluttered space, where there was barely room to step. “Yeah.”
Her gaze fell on her own door, which had been removed.
“This place isn’t bad. Why move?”
He wandered around, spotting his familiar jacket draped over the sofa.
“My ex–boyfriend ‘died‘. I’m scared he’ll come back as a ghost to haunt me.”
Latrina had no idea how to get Gerhart to leave.
He just picked a spot and sat down, showing no sign of budging.
“You took the door off she asked.
‘Yep.”
Latrina rubbed her temples “A new door costs 500 dollars. A locksmith would’ve been 50 dollars. Did you get hit in the head by a door or something?”
Looking at the paltry amount of luggage, she felt restless. Moving wasn’t that easy. Finding a decent place was even harder.
I only knew you were moving.” Gerhart crossed his legs. When are you moving out?”
Maybe she’d grown immune to Eduardo’s nonsense, but Gerhart’s words made her queasy.
“Before next Wednesday.”
Eduardo was clingy. If she didn’t move out, he would come to bother her even when he was engaged.
The door’s already off. Why not move tonight?”
“Move where?” Latrina grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and tossed it to him. He caught it steadily. “To my place.”
