Chapter 19
Chapter 19
When I opened my eyes, I found myself back in the hospital.
It seemed fate had tied Greenfield Medical Center with me. The doctor looked at me, almost out of breath from exasperation. "Melanie, you're something else. I've never had a patient who disregards advice as much as you do."
I struggled to sit up, eager to defend myself. "Doctor, hear me out. It wasn't my fault this time. I just passed out all of a sudden."
"Working yourself to the bone every day and not taking your medications properly, it's no wonder you fainted. An emergency got you this time, but if you can't handle it, you shouldn't be working. Ah, never mind. Just take care of yourself."
My doctor stopped mid-sentence, knowing my financial situation made not working an impossibility.
I nodded vigorously. I had a salary, and surviving wasn't an issue.
He glanced at my medical records and whispered, "You're due for an injection, which is quite pricey and needs booking in advance. Can you afford it right now?"
"I can book it in advance. Should I make a payment now?" I looked at him hopefully, calculating how much I would earn from the recent project. Relieved at my response, the doctor told me there was no need for a deposit and proceeded to book my appointment. But with chemotherapy scheduled for the following week, he was visibly worried.
The doctor sighed, "Your condition isn't too optimistic. A third relapse isn't out of the question, but you've got to stay positive. I suggest you start the chemo earlier and ensure you're well-nourished. You're too thin."
I looked at my hands, as frail as bird claws, making me sad. Indeed, I was thin, but eating was a challenge. Yet, thinking about the toll chemotherapy would take on my body, I steeled myself. Maybe it was time to delve into those protein shakes Clyde had stashed away. What was his was mine, after all.
The doctor gave me a few more instructions before leaving. Before exiting, he turned back. "Anything else I can help you with?"
I mumbled, "Please don't tell my family about this."
I had no family left, just my husband, and the last thing I wanted was for him to worry. He'd probably think I was conspiring with the doctor. It would be better if he thought I was just being dramatic.
With a nod of resignation, the doctor left the room.
Hanley had messaged me earlier, saying he got caught up at the construction site and could only drop me off at the hospital. I was grateful for that much. After all, he even covered my medication upfront.
When Clyde, who was my sole remaining family and my husband, arrived, I had received my injection.
Kayla was clinging to his arm, looking every bit the concerned couple visiting a patient.
Seeing that I was okay and munching on an apple, she seemed displeased. "Melanie, we checked the surveillance. The person was over ten feet away from you. Why did you faint? You weren't trying to scam money, were you?"
I continued to nibble on my apple, mumbling, "How clever. The CEO's wife fainting to extort money is headline material. Why don't you hurry and call your PR department?"
"You!" Kayla moved to confront me
but halted, mindful of Clyde's
presence, and she feigned distress
instead. "Clyde, look at her, always
rushing to the hospital over nothing to grab your attention."
I expected Clyde to echo her sentiments, but he remained silent, fixing his gaze on me.
After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke. "What's going on? Are you sick?"
"Yeah, seriously sick." My expression was blank, but inside, I felt uneasy.
His quick arrival had reignited a flicker of hope within me. I was telling the truth, but clearly, he was skeptical.
Kayla quickly interjected, "I spoke
with the doctor. They said you're fine. It might just be heatstroke. Last time, you pretended to throw up in the office. The employees saw you vomited nothing. You're just playing the victim."
The insinuation was clear. I was pretending to be sick to get Clyde's attention.
I indifferently nodded, then turned to Clyde. "Don't worry about whether I'm playing the victim. I did faint and got hospitalized, all during work hours."
Clyde looked at me with a heavy gaze. "What do you mean?"
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I remained poker-faced. "It means it's a work-related injury. Make sure to cover it with workers' compensation. Mr. Hanley paid for the hospital fees upfront."
I hated owing favors but didn't want to pay out of my pocket. The company should cover it if it could be claimed as a work-related injury.
Clyde's chest heaved, and he struggled to find words.
Meanwhile, Kayla smirked triumphantly, flaunting her new watch, pleased with herself.
My gaze swept over it, and I couldn't help but smile bitterly. Clyde did prefer her, didn't he? That watch must have cost a fortune.
Satisfied with my reaction, Kayla pouted and tugged at Clyde's sleeve. "Clyde, maybe Melanie is going through a tough time. Let's cover her expenses."
The irony of a mistress advising my husband about my hardships made me inwardly scoff.
Clyde glared at me and said with a grunt, "Whatever."
He escorted Kayla out of the room, slamming the door behind them.
The smile froze on my face, yet a ripple of emotion stirred within.
I had fainted, and he had rushed over. Did that mean he might check with finance to see what illness I had claimed for my medical expenses?