Recovery and Revelation

"Are you going to tell me now?" I ask Denise as she wheels me to the hospital discharge area, humming 'Sugar' by Maroon 5.

"Okay, I will tell you. Your—"

"Why are we passing the hospital checkout?" I interrupt, forgetting about what she was about to say.

"Well, that's the good news."

"What do you mean?" I ask as she pushes me toward the exit, unexpectedly guiding me to my car. It looks like it wasn't hit by another car at all; it seems even better than it was before.

"Your prince charming paid your hospital bills and brought your car here," she says with a giant smile.

"What do you mean he paid my hospital bills? How could you let him do that? He doesn't even know me!" I say, my voice a mix of disbelief and anger as I glare at her. She bursts into a fit of laughter, her eyes sparkling with delight as she seems to float away into a daydream.

"Isn't that just so romantic? He even brought your car here!" she replies, her gaze drifting dreamily towards the ceiling as if envisioning a fairytale.

I struggle to conjure up an image of my so-called prince charming. The memory of the accident is a hazy blur, a patchwork of confusion and darkness that I can't piece together.

"I don't know what you consider romantic, Denise, but this certainly isn't it. What if he corners me into paying him back?" My voice trembles with the thought of being indebted to someone I didn't even know.

"Look at it this way: he took you to an upscale hospital, ensured you received the best treatment, paid your bills, and even returned your car as if it just rolled off the showroom floor," she replies, her tone laced with fascination.

"Doesn't that seem… suspicious? We don't know anything about him!" I retort, feeling the weight of unease settle in the pit of my stomach.

"What does he even look like? Did he give you his name?" I ask, slipping into my car, trying to ignore her starry-eyed expression, as she barely contains her giggles.

"No, it was all very private. He spoke to the director, not anyone I know," she says, her voice full of longing.

"And I only caught a fleeting glimpse of him—his luscious, dirty blonde hair, those piercing green eyes, and those perfectly tempting lips," she adds, licking her lips in a way that makes me groan. It feels like she's spiraling deeper into her fantasy, missing the serious questions I've been trying to ask.

"It's clear you're too infatuated with your boy crush to have a rational conversation, so I'm heading home," I say firmly, ready to start my engine when she suddenly halts me.

"Just remember, this isn't a boy crush; it's a man crush! That guy is all man!" Her enthusiasm is palpable, and I can't help but roll my eyes.

"And don't forget to take all your prescribed medication. Just one anti-stress pill, and only when you really need it, okay?" she urges, her eyes boring into mine as if silently pleading with me not to misuse the pills.

"I'll follow the instructions, so don't worry. Thanks for everything," I reply as I pull away from the curb, reminding myself not to take the anti-stress medication; I refuse to let ruin my life by making me dependent on it to function.

I need to move on; I can't let this define me. The first step is securing a place to stay. With my mother abandoning me long ago, I've been without a true home for what feels like years—just a series of houses that never felt like home, Maybe her house wasn't even home.

I eventually found a cozy hotel where I could settle in for a few days while I figured out my next steps.

As I unpack the few belongings I managed to carry, I reflect deeply on my situation. I realize I can't keep holding onto the weight of my past; it's not productive, and I need to let it go.

Exhaustion swallows me whole, and I drift off to sleep for the rest of the day after purchasing a few work clothes for the following morning. The doctors recommended rest, and I intend to take their advice seriously as I recommit myself to finding stability in my life.

The next morning blurs together like a watercolor painting left out in the rain—I barely recall waking up, dressing, or even ordering breakfast.

The drive from the hotel to Emerald Media is a fog of thoughts and emotions, blurring the scenery outside my window into indistinct shapes.

All I can focus on is the impending meeting with Mr. Gregory, my boss, as I sit down at my desk, rushing to type the report he's been waiting for.

After analyzing the report and ensuring everything was completed, I sent it to Mr. Gregory and closed my laptop.

"Finally, I am done," I said, stretching and feeling a bit tired. I would have taken the day off, but my boss is such a jerk that I am sure he would either fire me or demote me from the executive assistant position I've worked hard for.

I need this job because I need the money; it's the only thing I have right now, and it's what's preventing me from spiraling.

Suddenly, the door barged open, making me jump in fright. I almost ducked under the table until I heard an overly excited voice.

"Bitch, I thought you were dead!" she screamed, glaring at me as if she could kill me in an instant.

"Calm down, I am alive. I've just been busy," I said, avoiding Mia's gaze. I had been ignoring her calls since the breakup because I hadn't even come to terms with it.

"Really? So why haven't you graced me with your presence, your highness?" she said, sounding angrier than before.

"My phone had a problem, so I went to get it fixed," I replied, moving around the room, searching for ways to pacify her.

"You know you're a shitty liar, right?" she said, raising an eyebrow as I froze, caught in my deceit.

"I am not lying! Why wouldn't I answer you?" I replied, staring at her, hoping there wasn't sweat on my brow.

"I don't know; you tell me. All I know is that you fidget a lot when you're lying."

"I am just still getting over the shock of you barging in her like a wild beast "

"why are you even here "I say diverting her Frome the very annoying but honest fact , making a mental to try at stop fidgeting

"I see what you doing but I am going to let it's slide for now "

"That better be the truth, or we will have serious problems. Capisce?" she said, glaring at me.

"Capisce," I said, hugging her tightly. I missed my best friend, and it killed me not to have her with me during this difficult time.

"So, why are you here?" I asked.

"Can't I come to see my best friend who has been ignoring me for a long time?" she said dramatically, which reminded me of Denise. They would make good friends.

"Yeah, you could have barged in during lunch, not now. So what is it?" I asked. She looked at me nervously before sighing.

"The boss is looking for you," she said sadly, and I froze.

"Shit."