Chapter 4

Liliana’s Point of View

I woke slowly, blinking up at a white ceiling while the antiseptic scent of the company clinic pricked my nose. My right arm felt like stone. I turned my head and saw Jack asleep beside the bed, using my numb hand as a pillow.

“J‑Jack,” I rasped. My throat was desert‑dry.

He jerked upright, eyes wide. “You’re awake.”

“My arm. I can’t move it.”

He stared, horrified. “I’ll call the nurse.”

“It’s numb because you used it as a cushion,” I muttered.

Color washed up his cheeks. “I am so sorry.”

He reached for my hand. I stopped him with a wince. “Let the blood come back first.”

He nodded, contrite. “Water. You need water.” He filled a paper cup and helped me drink. Cool liquid soothed the rawness in my throat, and the ache in my body had faded to a dull throb. I glanced at the IV taped to my wrist.

“Why am I on a drip?”

“You had a high fever,” Jack said. “Looked like you’d been… well, assaulted. You passed out around lunch.”

“What time is it now?”

“Seven in the evening.”

My stomach answered with a loud growl. “I have not eaten all day.”

Jack leapt to his feet. “I will buy food. Anything you want.”

I gripped his sleeve. “You did not tell Gerald I am here, did you?”

He shook his head, smiling a little. “Your fiancé is the last person I’d call. Rest. I will be back soon.”

“Thank you,” I said, then scowled when he added, “Send the payment to my e‑wallet.” I lobbed a pillow at him and he laughed, ducking out the door.

A nurse stepped in to check the IV. She knew me; I often came here for headache tablets.

“Medicine is already in the drip,” she said kindly. “Your fever is down, but you should stay the night.”

“Thank you for the care,” I murmured.

“Drink water and take vitamins,” she advised before leaving.

Alone, I scrolled through missed calls. Gerald had rung nonstop. I ignored them and opened the staff group chat. The hot gossip: our elusive CEO was married. No one had seen his wife or even his face lately; the head office was in the United States, and he seldom visited this branch.

Reading made my head spin, so I set the phone aside and closed my eyes until Jack returned ten minutes later with take‑out boxes and a fresh set of clothes.

“Sit,” he commanded, unfolding the tray table. When I reached for a plate he tapped my knuckles lightly. “I am the doctor tonight. Let me.”

“Doctor does not suit you,” I teased.

“Harsh,” he complained. “I saved you after all.” He fed me spoonfuls until I felt human again, then placed a hoodie and leggings on the bed.

“Tell me what happened,” he said, voice gentle. “Does it involve Gerald?”

My appetite vanished. I bit my lip.

“You are biting again,” Jack observed. “Just say it.”

“He cheated on me, Jack. I walked in on him and Mirabelle this morning.” My voice broke but no tears came; I was wrung dry.

Jack’s fists clenched. “I knew it.” Shame colored his face. “I should have told you. I found out three months ago, on Mirabelle’s birthday.”

“You are my friend too,” I whispered. “Why keep it from me?”

“I was afraid of hurting you.”

“Hurt is all I feel now,” I said flatly. “Please… I need to be alone.”

Jack hesitated, then squeezed my shoulder. “I will come back tomorrow.” He left me with the quiet hum of clinic machines.

---

Morning brought a clear head and stiff muscles. I showered in the tiny bathroom, changed into the clothes Jack had brought and thanked the nurse on duty.

Outside, coworkers congratulated me on the engagement. I forced a smile. “The wedding is off. Engagement canceled.” Gasps followed me to my desk but I ignored them.

Someone burst into the room. “Heads up. The CEO is touring departments. Tidy everything, now.”

Excitement buzzed through the office. “The handsome CEO.” “The married CEO.” People straightened stacks of files and spritzed perfume.

The door swung open. “Stand,” a manager hissed.

We rose and bowed as a tall man entered, flanked by aides.

“Welcome, Mr. Asher Calix Windermere,” the manager intoned.

Windermere. The name tickled my memory.

“Raise your heads,” the CEO said.

I lifted my gaze—and the world tilted. The man’s charcoal suit could not disguise the face I had kissed in a dark hotel room, the voice that had sworn loyalty while slipping a ring on my finger.

My pulse thundered. His cool gray eyes locked on mine.

“It is good to see you,” he said, lips curving the faintest degree. “Again.”

Blood rushed to my cheeks. The office dissolved; there was only Fern—no, Asher—standing before me with the weight of the whole company at his back.

I whispered, “Fern,” barely a breath.

The universe, it seemed, was far smaller than I ever imagined.

*******

LMCD22