Chapter 52
Collins
I was about to leave the office when Marlon stepped up beside me, his presence a quiet anchor in the storm of my thoughts.
“Let’s go for a drink,” he said, his tone casual but carrying that familiar undertone of concern.
I hesitated, then exhaled slowly, letting the tension in my shoulders ease a fraction. “Yeah… I could do with one,” I admitted, following him out.
We settled onto the barstools, the faint clink of glasses and the conversation filling the space around us. A bartender approached, and we ordered two whiskeys.
I dragged a hand over my face, the exhaustion of the past few days settling deep into my bones. “I met with Miss. Simmons,” I said. “She’ll be representing me. Everything’s in place.” My voice came out lower than I meant it to.
His expression tightened. “I heard they’re planning to call a lot of people to testify. Me. Tim. Charlene. Even some of the nurses.”
I closed my eyes briefly, letting the burn of the whiskey ground me. “God…” I exhaled. “I hate that they’re pulling all of you into my mess.”
Marlon scoffed softly and waved it off. “Don’t apologize, Collins. We’ll testify without hesitation. You don’t deserve this kind of attack—and they’re not going to tear you apart without a fight.”
I took a sip of my drink and felt it warm my chest, but it didn’t warm the hollow ache inside. My mind flicked to Anna—her smile, the soft curve of her lips when she whispered my name. The thought was a blade and a balm all at once.
I glanced at my watch, anxiety tightening my chest. Zelda should be with her by now. I pulled out my phone and typed quickly: I won’t be home when you leave. Thank you for helping her today.
I set the phone aside and took a slow sip of my drink. For a moment, I let myself think of Anna—of her smile, the softness in her voice when she said my name.
Marlon noticed my faraway look and smirked. “Thinking about her?”
I shook my head, but a faint smile tugged at my lips. “Maybe. But it doesn’t make the situation any easier.”
He clinked his glass against mine. “Then let’s just drink. One problem at a time, yeah?”
I let the whiskey burn down my throat, the heat spreading into my chest, and for a moment, I allowed myself to imagine her here beside me.
The storm was coming, I knew—but for now, I let myself linger in the thought of her, in the ache of missing her, and in the quiet, unspoken promise that I would fight every damn day until we were together again.
“Another drink?” Marlon asked, raising his glass with a teasing grin.
I shook my head, a small smile tugging at my lips. “No, I think we shouldn’t overindulge. We’ve got work tomorrow, unfortunately.”
He nodded. “You’re right. Responsibility first, fun later.”
We set our drinks down and slid off the stools. The night air was cool as we stepped outside.
“See you tomorrow,” I said, giving him a quick nod before we each headed to our cars, the tension of the day still lingering but somehow lighter for the brief escape.
Zelda was already at home when I arrived. I barely had a moment to hang my coat before asking, “How is she?”
“She’s doing well,” Zelda replied, a small smile tugging at her lips. “She said I must give you this, Doctor.”
I took the neatly wrapped rectangular box from her hands, curiosity and excitement coiling in my chest. Without hesitation, I tore the paper and lifted the lid.
Inside rested a sleek fountain pen, the kind you never forget—the kind you cherish.
I ran my fingers along its smooth barrel.
“This… I’ll treasure it. I’ll take it with me to work tomorrow. ”
My eyes flicked to Zelda. “Did you give her my shirt?” I asked, almost breathless.
“Yes,” she said softly. “She’s sleeping in it tonight.”
A smile broke across my face despite the ache in my chest. “Good.” God, I miss her already… What I wouldn’t give to see that gorgeous face right now.
Zelda’s tone shifted slightly, “She said thank you for the flowers.”
My smile froze. “I… I didn’t send her flowers.”
Zelda blinked, confusion crossing her face. “You didn’t?”
“No. I’d never give her flowers,” I said firmly, my voice low but edged with irritation. “She’s allergic to them.”
“You’re sure, Doctor?” Zelda asked, a note of surprise threading through her words. “I thought she was allergic to cats.”
“I ran every single allergy test on her while she was in the hospital,” I explained, feeling my chest tighten with both frustration and protectiveness.
“Cats were not one of them. Flowers? Definitely. Every single bloom could be dangerous for her. You have to get back there, Zelda. Make sure every single flower in that house is removed. And…it’s probably that moron who sent them again. ”
Zelda’s eyebrows shot up. “I’ll be on it right away, Doctor.”
“Please,” I said, my tone urgent now, almost pleading. “And tell her family…no flowers, under any circumstances. I won’t let anything compromise her, not even by accident.”
Zelda nodded quickly. “Understood. I’ll handle it.”
“Wait,” I called out, stopping Zelda just as she started to move. “I’ll go myself.”
She paused, glancing at me with a raised eyebrow.
“You can come with me…if you want to,” I added.
Zelda hesitated.
Before leaving, I grabbed some medical supplies. Not that I expected to need them, but I couldn’t help myself. Call it preparation, call it instinct. If something happened to her while I was here, I wanted to be ready.
“This counts as an emergency. The summons specifically says ‘emergencies only.’ I might as well…use the opportunity to see her.”
I could feel my heart hammering in my chest at the thought of Anna, but untouchable by law. The rules were suffocating, but this small loophole, was my chance.
Zelda gave a small nod, the faintest smile on her face, as if she understood that some rules were meant to be bent when love was involved.
I squared my shoulders, took a deep breath, and headed for the door, summoning every ounce of patience I had… even though I already knew my heart wouldn’t wait.
Robert opened the door, surprise flickering across his face the moment he saw me.
“Ian?” His brows drew together. “What are you doing here?”
“I need to check on Anna,” I said, already stepping inside.
He hesitated, worry settling into his expression. “Do you think that’s wise?”
“She’s been exposed to pollen,” I explained. “She’s allergic.”
Robert blinked. “That can’t be right. She’s never been allergic to flowers.”
“Allergies can develop later in life,” I said calmly. “Trauma, stress, environmental changes—sometimes they lie dormant for years. But she tested positive on her first day in hospital. Which means it likely started before the accident.”
Something shifted in his eyes. Realisation.
“That explains why that morning,” he murmured. “The day of her wedding. She looked off—feverish, pale. Her bouquet…” He exhaled slowly. “It could’ve triggered it.”
“Yes,” I said.
“What about the cat?” he asked.
“She’s not allergic to cats,” I added before he could worry.
That was when I heard the soft hum of wheels behind me.
I turned—and it nearly broke me.
Anna rolled into the foyer, wrapped in my shirt, the sleeves too long for her arms. Fragile. Beautiful. Mine.
God, I wanted to cross the room and kiss her senseless.
“Anna,” I breathed.
I forced myself to look away and turned back to Robert. “Please—can we remove every flower in this house? And make sure Michael doesn’t bring her any again.”
Robert nodded immediately. “I’ll take care of it. Also, I don’t want you to be implicated further by being here. If Michael’s hired anyone—private investigators…”
“I understand,” I said. “I’ll run a few checks and leave.”
I knelt in front of her, taking her hand carefully.
“Hey,” I said softly. “How are you feeling?”
“Warm,” she admitted. “A little tired.”
I brushed my fingers across her forehead—too warm. I ran a few quick checks, then pulled medication from my medicine bag.
“Take this,” I said, placing the pills gently into her palm. “It’ll help.”
“Ian… what’s going on?” she asked quietly.
“You’re allergic to flowers,” I said. “I need you to promise me something. Don’t accept them anymore. Not from anyone.”
She looked startled—then smiled faintly. “Okay.”
Robert returned just then, Nancy stepping in beside him. As I turned to fetch water, Nancy signed, “I’ll get it.”
I stayed kneeling in front of Anna. “You’re going to be fine,” I told her softly. “I promise.”
Nancy returned moments later. I took the glass, helped Anna drink, watching every swallow as it mattered more than my own breath.
Behind me, Robert said quietly.
“One man gives her oxygen, and the other one gives her a fever.”