Chapter 25
“Olívia, talk to me,” I hear him ask.
I try to answer, but to my own ears, the words are nothing but incoherent murmurs, while my eyelids flutter. I strain to open my eyes, but nothing happens.
“Call the doctor.”
“I don’t think it’s anything serious.”
“Now, Kathleen.”
Guillermo’s raised voice makes my head feels like it’s going to explode. Then, more people are heard in the room, and I’m almost certain one of them is Melissa.
“What happened, Mr. Guillermo? Is she okay?” Now I know it’s my friend speaking.
“I think she slipped. Did you call the doctor?”
“Yes, I did. Where did she slip? There was a wet floor sign when I came in.”
“It wasn’t there,” I try to say, but my voice doesn’t come out.
“I’m not sure, but what matters to me now is making sure she’s okay.”
“Mr. Guillermo, she left your office without looking where she was stepping. You can’t blame anyone but her,” says Kathleen in her shrill voice.
I’m sure the wet floor sign wasn’t there. Could she have done this? Does the woman hate me so much that she’d hurt me like this?
The idea of being vulnerable while that crazy woman is in the same room as me makes me groan in protest.
“Miss Taylor, what are you still doing here? Your new boss must be waiting for you.”
“I just want to help.”
“It’s not necessary. I can ask for whatever I need from Melissa. Now, please leave your office.” He sounds harsh as I hear the sound of shoes walking away.
The noise makes me feel like there’s an alternative rock band performing in my brain, and I groan again.
“I know it must be hurting, but the doctor is coming. You’re going to be okay.” He changes when he speaks to me, and I feel his fingers on my face.
The pain doesn’t ease with his caresses, but at least, as long as he’s around, I’ll be safe.
“We can’t let her sleep until she’s properly examined. Although there are no broken bones, we’ll have to take her to the hospital.”
Voices come and go as I hear Guillermo calling my name—I think trying to keep me awake. I know he’s walking with me in his arms because I realize we’re moving.
“Do you want me to go with her?” I hear Melissa ask.
“No. I’ll go, but I’d like you to make sure Kathleen cleared out her office. I made an appointment with you for a conversation today, to let you know that you would be replacing her, but we won’t have time to talk calmly now, so you can start moving your things to my floor right away.”
I finally manage to open my eyes and realize we’re in an ambulance.
The first thing I see is his face above me, and even with the pain in my head, I manage to smile. “Hey. I’m so sorry about this.”
“Sorry? You don’t have to apologize for getting hurt, although you almost scared me to death.”
“I slipped.”
“I imagine you did, but how? Melissa said there was a sign warning that the floor was wet.”
I can’t argue, so I just shake my head from side to side.
“There wasn’t?”
I shake my head again, and I see his features tighten.
“Don’t worry. I’ll find out what happened. Now, try to stay awake. We’re going to check your head.”
“It hurts.”
“I know, beautiful. We’ll be at the hospital soon.”
Massachusetts General Hospital
“Apparently, there’s nothing wrong, but you’ll need to rest for at least twenty-four hours. Ideally, you should stay admitted. The CT scan didn’t show any major damage, but you’ll need to rest. I recommend a few days off from work.”
“A few days?” I repeat, incredulous.
The pain isn’t as bad now, and at the moment, I don’t care about it. On the contrary, I’m really worried. I just started at the hotel—how can I take time off?
Next, I look around the room.
God, I’m in a hospital.
I try to remember what my health insurance contract said. Are the expenses covered? I remember perfectly well the cost of hospitalization and tests. The money that comes out of my bank account monthly doesn’t let me forget.
But there’s a bigger reason why I don’t want to stay in the hospital: I’ve spent months in them in recent years.
“I can rest at home.”
The doctor looks at me somewhat suspiciously, and I realize it’s just the two of us at the moment.
Did Guillermo leave?
As if he could read my thoughts, I hear his powerful voice: “What kind of rest does she need?”
“Nothing too strict. Just keep an eye out for any headaches, nausea, blurred vision. Actually, any unusual symptoms.”
“And what else?”
“As I said, just be alert to anything out of the ordinary. I really don’t think it was serious, but I prefer to be cautious.”
“I’ll make sure she rests.”
The two of them converse as if I’m not present, which irritates me.
When the doctor leaves, I’m not in the mood to talk to my boss, my boyfriend, whatever he is to me.
“I guess our dinner will have to be postponed,” he says.
I turn to look at him and notice that despite trying to sound light, there’s tension on his face. “You’re not funny.”
“I have my moments.”
I give up on my bad mood when I see that he’s genuinely concerned about me. “I’m sorry for the trouble I caused.”
“Let’s not talk about it now. When you’re feeling better, you’ll tell me what happened. For now, try to relax.”
“I can’t stay admitted.”
“The doctor said you need rest.”
“Let me go to my room. I promise to behave, but I hate hospitals. Besides, he said the critical period is twenty-four hours. I don’t have the strength to argue now, but I’m asking you to let me go back to the hotel. I don’t want to spend the night here.”