0004.

Tilda’s POV.

I glanced down at the screen and froze. It was a message from a strange number. A cold shiver crept up my spine as I opened it.

Attached was a selfie of us—one I had no recollection of taking. The sight of his face next to mine made my stomach twist.

His message read: "If you ever want to escape again and lose yourself in my arms, I'll be here. Only I am allowed to touch you and make you feel that way. I'll keep this photo as a memory, but don't worry, I didn’t take any explicit photos or recordings. I'm not that kind of person. Sorry for taking your number without permission. Take care of yourself, and move on from your heartbreak."

The words crawled under my skin. He sounded possessive, like I was some kind of treasure he could claim whenever he pleased. And the casual way he said it—like I should be grateful he didn’t exploit me further—left me feeling violated all over again.

I sat frozen in the backseat, feelin several emotions swirling inside me. Fear prickled at the edges of my mind, but I pushed it down. He only wanted my body, nothing more. To him, I was just a night of pleasure.

I blocked his number without hesitation. I wasn’t going to let him worm his way back into my life, not even for a second. I needed to focus on moving forward, on healing from the disaster of my wedding day—not get dragged down by another man.

The cab pulled up to the hospital, snapping me back to reality. I quickly paid the fare and rushed inside. Immediately I got in, my mind shifted to the emergency that awaited me. My patients needed me. I needed to set aside the tangled mess of my personal life and focus on them.

As I walked through the hallways, the whispers of my colleagues followed me like shadows. They were talking about me—about the bride who didn’t make it to the altar. I could feel their stares, their pity. A heavy pressure settled in my chest, but I kept my chin up, refusing to let their gossip break me. I had a job to do.

By the time I reached the ward, Nurse Yonda was already waiting. Her face was twisted in fury. She stormed up to me, her hands trembling by her sides.

"Where the hell have you been, Tilda?" she spat.

Before I could even say anything, she raised her hand and slapped me hard across the face. The sound echoed in the corridor, and the entire ward seemed to hold its breath.

I stumbled back, shock coursing through me. I gasped, looking at her in disbelief.

“What the—” I started.

"You're an hour late, and in that time, the director’s daughter is hanging on by a thread! Do you even realize how critical her condition is?" Yonda’s voice was full of venom.

"You have no right to hit me," I said.

I couldn't help the tears that formed in my eyes. How could she be so cruel? She had no idea what I'd been through in the last couple hours. She was there yesterday. She knew what happened at my wedding yet she couldn't show any sympathy for me.

She stepped closer, eyes blazing. "I’d do it again if it meant saving her life. If she dies because you couldn’t drag yourself out of whatever mess you’re in, your career is over."

The fear of failure gripped me, and I swallowed hard. She wasn’t wrong. A life was on the line, and I had to make things right.

---

We reached the director's estate an hour later. On our way here, the tension in the ambulance was suffocating.

The estate was massive. It was a huge villa hidden away on the outskirts of the city. As we approached the entrance, servants were pacing anxiously, their faces pale with worry. We were led through the halls by the butler, who barely glanced our way. His focus was solely on getting us inside.

In the room, the director’s daughter lay motionless on her bed. Her small frame was lost in the sheets. She was so young, no older than ten, with dark curls fanning out on the pillow. Her skin was pale, too pale, and her breathing was shallow.

Dr. Ben wasted no time. He quickly administered the necessary medications while Nurse Abby and I worked to stabilize her condition. My heart ached as I looked at her.

How could someone so innocent be burdened with such an illness?

"She’s been battling leukemia for months now," Dr. Ben murmured "Her father refuses to bring her to the hospital, insists on her being treated here. Time’s running out, though. We’ve told him she needs a bone marrow transplant, but nothing’s been done.”

I glanced at the girl, feeling sad for her. “What about her mother? Can’t she donate?”

“She doesn’t have a mother,” Nurse Abby snapped at me.

Before I could press further, the butler returned, and Dr. Ben and Nurse Abby excused themselves, leaving me alone with the girl.

I sat by her bedside, worrked at how fragile she looked. I reached out to her, brushing a strand of hair from her face. The room around us felt like something out of a fairy tale—plush pink curtains, a sparkling chandelier overhead, and toys scattered like treasures. It was a princess’s room. I wished her life could be as magical as her surroundings, wished she could run through these halls with the carefree joy of a child her age.

A small voice broke the silence.

"Hey."

I looked down to see her eyes fluttering open, dark and wide, locking onto mine. Her grip on my hand tightened, surprising me with its strength.

“Can you stay with me?” she whispered.

I hesitated, knowing her father probably wouldn’t approve. But those eyes…they were so full of longing, of loneliness. I couldn’t bring myself to refuse.

Before I could respond, Dr. Ben and Nurse Abby returned with the butler, and I reluctantly stepped back, releasing her hand.

"We’ll be leaving now," Dr. Ben said, addressing the butler. "I’ve left instructions for her care. We’ll return tomorrow."

Then, as if it was the most casual thing in the world, Dr. Ben turned to me and added, "Oh, by the way, Nurse Tilda, you’ll be taking over Nurse Abby’s duties here. You’ll be working at the estate from tomorrow onward.”

My jaw dropped in shock.

What the hell did he just say? An ordinary nurse like me working for our director?