The finale was not yet reached. The climax was only beginning. She had no right to leave whatsoever. She needed to see the end of this mess that she created. Because if not for her, nothing like this would have happened.
All in all, despite my ramblings and useless thoughts, deep inside, I knew that I just didn't want her to die. I forced back the tears that were welling up in my eyes, pulling up my legs and burrowing my face to hide the droplets of grief that streamed down my cheeks. In between the soft sobs, I caught my breaths and told myself to stop all this humiliating acts. I’d done enough mortification for the day.
“What are you doing here?” A sharp and displeased voice suddenly called out to me. I wiped away the tears before looking up to him. From the tone of his voice, I didn't even need to see his face to know that he was the one who was talking to me.
As soon as I met his gaze, I muttered, “John... I'm sorry.”
He weakly scoffed. “And you’re saying sorry now?”
“I never imagined that something like this would happen,” I tried defending myself.
“So now you see what those needless words of yours can actually do? You've finally learned your lesson and you even dragged my grandmother along. Are you happy now?” he scorned, anger flaring in his eyes.
“I'm not happy.” I breathed, closing my eyes.
“I'm sure you're ecstatic that—”
I cut him off, raising my voice higher so that he would listen to me, “I'm not. And I’m sorry for being this way. I'm sorry for scaring her like that. But you must know that I didn't want any of this.”
He stopped talking and just stared at me, disbelief evident in his glares.
I prevented the tears from falling as I continued, “I never wanted any of this to happen, John.”
“Oh, really?” He was far from believing my words.
I opened my eyes and lifted my face. I saw him unfastened his tie and loosened up the button of his shirt. Fervently shaking his head, he was oblivious to the fact that I was not jumping for joy right at this moment.
Did he really believe that I was that kind of person?
I faintly smiled, realizing that he wouldn't change his mind no matter how hard I tried explaining myself. After all, I did a fair amount of damage. Letting out a weakened sigh, I rested my forehead on my knees and shut the whole world out. Seeing that I had chosen not to answer him, he just took a seat opposite from where I was. I felt the heaviness of his stare as his eyes solidly placed on mine.
Neither of us uttered a word again and another restless hour had passed. Then finally, after the long wait, the operating room door opened. I hurriedly got up and so did John. As I focused my gaze at the people who came out, that was when I noticed that the doctor was not smiling, neither did he looked pleased. I fell back to my seat, my blamable conscience getting in the way and wouldn't let me ask what had happened.
“How did the surgery go, doc?” I heard John ask.
The doctor took off his glasses and wiped away the perspiration from his eyes. Then he faintly smiled and answered, “We did what we can. Your grandmother's stable but we still need to monitor her condition. We'll make the arrangements to transfer her to the intensive care unit.”
“Will she make it through?” he asked again.
After several agonizing seconds, the doctor finally uttered, “Let's just hope for the best, son.”
Then the doctor excused himself, leaving behind an anxious and perplexed John who seemed to be in a shock. I closed my eyes again, feeling the gravity of the situation pressing down on me once more. Then in a while, I heard John's footsteps walking away.
Opening my eyes, I hurriedly got up and was about to follow him. Then he looked back, upset at the sight of me. Repulsion heavy in his eyes. With a fed up voice, he warned, “I told you to stay away from us. We don't need you, Kayla. Go home.”
I knew what he meant by that. But I couldn’t bring myself to leave the hospital even after hearing those words. Not until I knew that she would recover completely. That she wouldn’t die.
And that was what I did for the next few hours—hoped and prayed that she wouldn’t leave us like that. That she’d still be around. Bossy, evil, or not, I only wanted her around.
“Miss Brooks,” I heard a voice as someone tapped me on the shoulders.
I fluttered my eyes and was momentarily blinded by the staggering light of the passing car. Looking around to see where I was, I suddenly recalled that I was still in the parking lot of the hospital. I looked up to the one who called me and saw Nate.
“How is she?” I asked him.
He faintly smiled and answered, “I made arrangements for you to visit her for a while. Mr. Brooks is sleeping now.”
Still in a daze, I nodded and picked myself up and started to walk towards the entrance of the hospital. When we were several steps from the entryway, I suddenly felt hesitant and stopped on walking.
Nate seemed to notice it. He turned back to my direction and curiously asked, “Is everything alright, Miss?”
“Nate, is it really okay for me to see her? I mean...” I stuttered.
“Madam is fond of you and she treats you as her own. I'm sure she will be happy to hear your voice,” he simply answered.
“Are you sure?” I doubtfully asked. From what I could recall, she had never taken a liking to me.
“Yes, trust me, Miss. I’ve been with her for the last twenty years,” he answered.
“Really?” I asked.
He only smiled and nodded. “We should get going now. Mr. Brooks might wake up anytime soon.”
Realizing what he had said, I immediately followed after him. When John chased me out from his sight this afternoon, I asked Nate for a favor to let me see Dorothy when John fell asleep. He agreed. And after waiting outside until nighttime, John finally gave in to exhaustion and decided to take a nap. Visiting hours was way over hours ago but Nate made the necessary arrangements for me to enter the premises.
The pallid corridors of the hospital were empty. Silence was piercingly echoed across the halls. And it was as if every deafening and screeching wordless sound pierced straight into my heart, reminding me of what I had done.
Nate led me to the fifth floor, towards the end of the hall. I then noticed two more men-in-black outside the farthest room at my right. Outside, I saw a figure of a man, with jacket placed over him and his head resting against the wall. I stopped for a moment to look. He was fast asleep.
Nate opened the door for me, gesturing for me to get in. I silently nodded and entered the dimly lit room. Beeping sounds came from everywhere. And in the middle was the nurse station.
“Let me lead you to her unit,” the nurse said. She seemed to know who I was so I only nodded.
From outside, I could see that it was Dorothy. Like John, she was sound asleep. Only that there were different tubes and machines placed on her. The sight of it made me want to cry but I kept myself together.
“I can give you ten minutes,” the nurse told me as she was about to slide the door again.
“Thanks,” I muttered.
I went closer to Dorothy’s side, pulling myself along. Without her make-up, I realized that she was really old. Her wrinkled skin sagged on her small frame.
I tucked a misplaced strand of hair behind her ear and winced when I touched her. Just like what John had said, she was already old and fragile. I should have had known better than scaring an elder lady.
“I'm sorry,” I silently whispered to her. Looking away, I forced back the tears. I placed my hand on Dorothy's and told her, “Get well soon. I'll be waiting for you.”
It must have been my imagination, but I swore that I felt her hand moved. Blinking twice, I shoved away the thoughts, reasoning that maybe it was just my wishful thinking that made me think all that. I faintly smiled at her, lingering and taking in mind that she was okay. I only hoped that she would be so and gain back her spunk. I kind of missed that.
When the ten minutes was over, I left
the ICU. I was about to go but I suddenly felt that urge to take one more glance at John. I didn’t know what exactly had gotten into me.
But I found myself doing just that.
Giving in to the want, I went to his side as soundless as I could possibly be. I saw his worn out figure and the depths of his worry that was shown on his pale face. I bent down a little as I watched as his chest went up and down.
Then I softly whispered to him, “Are you okay?”
I was thankful that he finally gave in to the fatigue. I knew that he would be in need of energy to face whatever might happen. Tracing the outline of his face without placing my fingers on his skin, my fingertips lingered a little longer on the creases that were placed in between his brows. He must be having a nightmare that was bothering his sleep.
“Kayla!” I turned around and saw that boy with the glasses again. He climbed up and got inside the secret door of my tree house even before I could even tell him not to.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, annoyed that he found my hiding place.
“You told me that if I could find you, you'd let me inside your secret tree house,” he answered, adjusting his glasses and snorting like a pig.
“You're gross,” I told him.
He just smiled, welcoming himself to my tree house and walking around.
I protested, “No fair! You shouldn't be here. This tree is mine.”
“But you told me that...” he stuttered, sounding a bit frightened. But only a little. I wasn’t that scary. Only monsters were scary enough.
“Okay, don't repeat what I said over and over again,” I replied, wondering if he will keep on snorting all day.
“What do you have up there?” he asked, looking over to the box where I kept my notebook.
“Stop being nosy or I'll be mad at you,” I warned him, placing my hands on my hips.
“Okay,” he agreed.
“If you're nice, I'll let you stay here,” I said to him.
Instead of answering, he just yawned.
So I asked, “Did you watch movies again last night?”
“No,” John answered.
“They why are you sleepy? It's only nine in the morning,” I said.
He hesitated for a while, looking up to me and fidgeting with his glasses nervously. I crossed my arms over my chest. Then he finally admitted, “I have nightmares.”
“Nightmares?”
“Yes,” he answered, “about Mom leaving me at Grandma's.”
“Really?” I echoed.
He simply nodded.
I felt sorry for him so I made up my mind to make him feel better. I grabbed my pillow and placed it on the wooden floor. “Here, use this and sleep. I'll sing you a song.”
He hesitated for a while before taking the cushion and lying down.
Then I confidently said to him, “You will not have nightmares anymore. I'll sing you the song Mom sings to me whenever I have bad dreams.”
He nodded again, closing his eyes and folding to his side. I cleared my throat and started singing, “Sleep, little one. The nightmares will go, the nightmares will go...”
“Think of happy dreams and jelly beans. I will be here. I will be here. And when you wake up, everything will be alright. The nightmares will go away.”
I saw the folds in between his brows finally relaxed until it disappeared completely. I vaguely smiled and felt good that I was able to do something for him. I had done a fair enough damage and making him lighten up a bit felt like I was somehow able to make it up with him in a small way. Being forgiven was such a hefty thing to ask and I was afraid that it would never be given to me. Somehow, I just wanted to ease the guilt that I was feeling. Let myself take a few more breathes without pulling it back, thinking that I did not deserve it anymore.
I held my hand beside his face, wanting to touch him. I wanted to caress his face and tell him that everything would be alright. But how could I? I was the one who caused all this.
Then suddenly, making me jump a little, a hand caught mine. I almost fell on my back. Slowly, John started opening his eyes, making my heart beat fast in my chest. I tried pulling my hand from his but he prevented me from doing so. Then he met my stare and I just stayed there—left hand against the wall to steady myself and the other one caught in his.
His gaze was calm now, appeased as it had always been ever since I met him. It was different from what he showed me this afternoon. I felt my lips trembled a bit, not knowing what to say.
“Is everything okay?” he asked quietly as he let my hand go. The tenderness in his voice made me feel like a lump started forming in my throat. He was supposed to be mad at me and stay that way. It was against all rules for him to show some form of care for me.
It made me feel horrible about myself.
“I'm fine,” I answered. “I’m just feeling apologetic to you and Dorothy. But really, I'm fine. How about you?”
“Not sure,” he said with a shrug. Then lightly patting the seat beside his, I heard him add, “Here, take a seat for a while.”
I looked around, noticing that Nate and the other two men-in-black had left us alone. The hall was as silent like it was when I came here. Two in the morning tend to give this kind of vibes.
“Is it okay?” I asked, unsure whether I should sit or not.
He nodded, a weak smile tracing his lips.
I took the other one next to where he placed his hand on. A seat apart seemed to be appropriate now. Not closeness. Because I knew that it could break him apart even more. This was the space he was trying to tell me before. I knew now what he meant. The heavy stares despite him trying to ease them up, it was clearly there.
After a moment, he finally spoke, “Kayla, this is getting hard for me and I'm sure that it's the same for you. I can't look at you without blaming you for what happened to my grandmother.”
I stayed silent.
“Seeing her this way makes my heart ache. And every time I see you...” He stopped. I was convinced that he was assessing his words, thinking of what to say to at least not completely hurt me.
John was that kind of person.
“No, it's okay. Don't worry about me. I completely understand if you feel that way,” I assured him.
He briefly smiled. “But still, I can't go on and blame you for everything. That will be unfair to you. So I'm thinking that we should put an end to all this instead.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, feeling confused where this conversation was going.
Clasping both of his hands, he answered, “I'm calling a press conference tomorrow. I'm going to tell everyone what really happened and get us both out of this mess.”
I thought about what he said. Thinking that I heard it wrong, I looked at his face and he simply nodded. Forget about my reputation, John here was going to take the blame. It wasn’t like I would really be a divorcee at such a young age since there wasn’t really any paper involved. I wasn’t famous either to worry a thing. But then, John's credibility here would be thoroughly tarnished with this mess.
“John, what about—”
“I can handle it. And besides, this will all happen in three months. Why not do it now?” he said, fully grasping what I was about to say.
“Are you sure?” I asked him again.
He nodded and stared at me for a while. “Don't worry about it. An issue like this won't bring the hotel and all of our other businesses down.”
“I'm really sorry for everything,” I apologized.
“I guess we're both sorry. But it's not all your fault. I was the one who asked you to be my bride in the first place. So really, don't take it that hard,” he said, letting out an undermined sigh.
“So tomorrow, everything will come to an end?” I murmured, feeling my chest tightened.
“Yes, I think it is better this way. For both of us not see each other again for a while,” he replied.
“Maybe you’re right.” For what reason I said that, I had no clue. Perhaps for John. With what I had
realized, for sure, all I wanted now was to stay by his side. But for John, I wanted to make myself feel different this time. Realizing that I was free from the contract, a part of me was happy. But a certain voice inside my head was being pained to see things turning out this way. It was a sharp and throbbing pain inside my chest, piercing through and through. And the cry for the latter surpassed all the momentarily bliss I felt.
Chapter 21
“I'm sorry,” said John.
I looked to my right and stared disbelievingly at John as he opened his statement with an apology. All the nervousness I felt before I came inside the conference hall soon faded away as it was replaced with that inquisitive and worried feeling on why John had decided to open the press conference like that.
The whole room was silent, not even the anxious reporters said a thing. Everyone wanted to hear what this man would say next. Being one of the wealthiest people in the country, he was one of those whose words were so important. And that if possible, it was as if everyone here would actually stop their breathing to let him have his moment.
Although I think that what exactly what everyone was doing. Or maybe it was only me who was holding my breath. There were so many worries on John’s face. Even his breathing was slow and heavy. And all I did was to helplessly stare.
What else was there for me to do?
After assessing the crowd, I heard him continue, “I asked for this press conference to release my official statement regarding those rumors about me and Ms. Kayla Wilson.”
“John—“ I tried saying when I he paused.
He held my hand briefly under the table and shook his head while keeping his eyes on our audience. I had no idea why I suddenly wanted to be the martyr. But if there was something I wanted to do right now, that was to take part of the blame. Even all the blame. After all, Dorothy wouldn’t be in the hospital if not for what I’d done.
Despite my protest to let me speak, he continued, “The rumors are true. We are not married. The ceremony was only for show. Kayla was the one who actually saved my face that day. She took the place of my bride who ran away a day before that wedding.”
My Kind of Perfect Page 19