Chapter 72

RICHARD POV

“Good morning, Sarah,” I said, my voice steady as I held the phone to my ear, navigating the chaos of my morning.

“Listen, I’ll be late for the meeting. Something urgent came up.”

Sarah, my efficient personal assistant, was quick to respond. “Understood, Mr. Garrison. Should I reschedule?”

“No,” I replied firmly.

“Just handle the preliminaries until I get there. And one more thing…make sure my suit is ready for tonight’s Japanese ball. I can’t afford any mistakes.” I sounded so professional and official at the moment.

“Yes, sir. I’ll have it prepared and delivered to your residence,” she assured me.

As I hung up, I couldn’t help but think about the significance of the ball. It wasn’t just another social gathering.

This was the event for the world’s greatest businessmen, a place where partnerships were forged, and accolades were awarded.

The Japanese ball was the pinnacle of recognition, celebrating companies that had excelled in international collaborations. Missing it was out of the question.

“This is my moment,” I muttered to myself, clenching my jaw. “I’ve worked too hard to be absent tonight.”

I was still lost in thought when I saw her. The woman I had involved in an accident with my car earlier. She was running toward me, her hospital gown fluttering behind her, her bandaged arms flailing.

Behind her,the two nurses who had treated her earlier hurried in pursuit, their expressions a mix of concern and exasperation.

“Wait! Stop her!” one of the nurses called out.

Before I could react, the woman reached me and clung to my jacket, her grip surprisingly strong for someone in her condition. Tears streamed down her face as she sobbed uncontrollably.

“Please, don’t leave me here!” she cried, her voice desperate and broken. “Don’t let them take me back. I can’t stay in that hospital. Please!”

I froze, unsure of how to respond. Her anguish was pitiable, her tears soaking through my suit.

The nurses finally caught up, both panting as they addressed me. “Mr. Garrison,” one of them said, her tone apologetic.

“ We’re sorry about this. She’s been refusing treatment, and we thought she’d calmed down. But patients like her recover faster when they’re allowed some sense of control.”

“Control?” I echoed, incredulous. “She just ran out of the hospital! How is this normal?”

The second nurse stepped forward, holding a small packet of medications. “Here,” she said, thrusting it into my hands. “The dosage is written on the paper inside. Just ensure she takes them as prescribed.”

I looked at the packet, then back at the woman, who was still clinging to me.

“Wait, what? You’re giving her to me? This is a hospital! Isn’t it your job to take care of her?” I kept asking questions upon questions.

The first nurse shook her head.

“She’s refusing to stay. Forcing her could cause more trauma, and there’s a risk she may never regain her memory.

You were the last person she interacted with before her memory loss. Right now, you’re her safest option.”

When the nurse was done explaining I just couldn't believe what I was hearing and I thought to myself what will I do now?.

I stared at them, stunned. “You can’t be serious. I have meetings, responsibilities, and a life. I can’t take her home! She can stay in the hospital and I can pay her bill, give her whatever she wants but not stay on the same roof as me.”

“Please,” the woman whispered, her voice trembling. “Don’t leave me here. I’ll be good, I promise. I won't be a problem to you.”

Her plea hit me harder than I expected. I let out a slow breath, trying to process the absurdity of the situation.

“This can’t be happening,” I muttered but then I remembered that I was the one who put this young lady in this position and I felt more bad.

If not for me at least she could have been at where she used to be and live her normal life.

The nurses exchanged a look, then one of them said, “It’s your choice, Mr. Garrison. But if she stays here against her will, the consequences could be severe.”

I stood there, torn. This wasn’t just inconvenient; it was a disaster.

Yet, looking at her tear-streaked face, and remembering that I'm also the cause she's like that, I realized I had no choice.

“Fine,” I said reluctantly. “I’ll take her. But this is temporary.”

The nurses nodded, clearly relieved. “Thank you, sir. She’s in your care now.”

I guided the woman…her name, I later learned, was Alisha…out of the hospital. She leaned heavily on me, her body frail but her grip unwavering.

Her bandages stood out starkly against her pale skin, a clear reminder of the accident that had brought us together.

Then I told her to change into her former clothes as she cannot go with me with a hospital gown.

And one of the nurses said she has spare clothes to lend to Alisha as the clothes are the ones she has used to come work in the hospital but she can still go home with the nurse uniform she was wearing.

As we reached my car, my phone buzzed. I fished it out of my pocket, answering without checking the caller ID.

“Richard, darling!” my mother’s cheerful voice rang out.

“Mom,” I greeted her, trying to mask my exhaustion. “What’s going on? You sound... unusually happy.”

“Oh, Richard, guess what?” she said, her excitement almost tangible.

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Mom, I’m not in the mood for guessing games. Just tell me.”

“No, no, you have to guess!” she insisted, her laughter bubbling through the phone.

I glanced at Alisha, who was now seated in the passenger seat, her eyes closed but her grip still tight on my jacket. Whatever my mother’s news was, it would have to wait.

“Mom, I really…”

“Come on, Richard,” she interrupted, her tone teasing. “It’s good news. You’ll love it!”