Azalea's palms were slick with sweat, and her back was drenched in cold perspiration that clung to her skin, sending shivers down her spine. She hastily sat in her car and fumbled for a packet of wet tissues in the glove box. Pulling out a handful of tissues, she scrubbed her palms as if trying to rid herself of some unseen filth. She had hastily shed her suit and tossed it in the backseat before collapsing in the driver's seat, her body trembling with tension and her throat parched with anxiety.
After scrubbing her skin raw, she finally felt some relief and tossed the used tissues on the passenger seat. She rested her head against the seat, closed her eyes, and focused on taking slow, deep breaths, trying to calm her racing thoughts that threatened to plunge her into a vortex of horror.
Leaning against the steering wheel with her eyes closed, she was startled by the shrill ringtone of her phone. "Goodness," she muttered under her breath, clutching her chest as she glanced at the phone's screen. Ray's name blinked in white letters. She took a deep breath, cleared her throat, and answered the call, trying to sound composed. "Hello?"
"Madam, I'm at the hospital. I just checked on Clair, and she seems alright now, apart from the occasional screaming tantrums," Ray reported.
"Oh! That's good. Stay there. I'm leaving the office now and will be there in half an hour," Azalea replied.
"You can take your time. I'm sure I can handle her for a while," Ray said weakly, and Azalea was about to respond when she heard a voice in the background of Ray's phone. "Isn't that Clair's voice?" a female voice asked.
"Clair? Oh no! That's her!" Ray exclaimed breathlessly. "Madam, I'll call you right back." He hung up abruptly, leaving Azalea deeply concerned. She placed the phone aside and started the car engine before speeding off from the office.
After a reckless drive, Azalea arrived at the hospital to find Clair in a foul mood, glaring daggers at Ray. The moment Azalea entered the room, Clair's gaze turned hostile, and she continued to stare at Azalea with defiance. "What's going on? What happened?" Azalea walked up to Clair and leaned over her, gently touching her shoulder. "I heard your voice on the phone, and I got worried," she added, but Clair refused to budge.
"I don't want to get married," Ray spoke on Clair's behalf.
"Huh?" Azalea was taken aback and turned to look at Ray.
"She said that," Ray pointed at Clair.
"Tsk…." Azalea clicked her tongue in annoyance and gave Ray a quizzical look. "I told you not to tell her now," she hissed at him, and Ray looked away, ashamed.
"Why not?! And who do you think you are to marry me off to whoever you want?" Clair growled, making Azalea turn back to her. Azalea inhaled deeply, trying to maintain her composure. "That's the only way you can inherit your father's business. You have to get married," she replied.
"I don't want to! I will not repeat myself. Now, get out of here, both of you," Clair hissed.
Azalea's face fell, and she looked at her daughter with a mix of sadness and frustration. "You can't refuse. It was your father's wish. I have to do as he asked me,"
Azalea's face twisted in confusion, and she gave her daughter a stern look. "I am your mother, whether you believe it or not. As your guardian, I have the right to make decisions for you. And as for the marriage proposal, I don't care what he asked you to do. I will not allow you to marry anyone he chooses," she declared, her tone stiff.
Clair responded in a louder voice, "I refuse to get married to anyone he chose, and that's final!" She pulled the blanket over her face, cutting off her view.
Azalea bit the inside of her cheeks and closed her eyes for a moment before responding calmly. "I have always listened to your demands, but not this one. I have talked to Mr. Asher, and we will decide on your wedding date after you have recovered. That's my final decision on this matter."
She turned to Ray and instructed him, "Bring her home when she is okay. I have to go on a business trip and won't be back for a week."
"Alright, I will do that," Ray responded.
"Take care, Clair. I will be back," Azalea said to her daughter and left the room with a quick stride. Ray followed her with his gaze until she closed the door behind her.
Azalea marched forward with a heavy frown until she was far away from the room. She stopped and looked back over her shoulder, her face crumpled with guilt. "Was I too harsh on her?" she asked herself. Then she looked down with a heavy heart, but she tried to reassure herself that Clair had to make her own decisions once her contract with her father ended, and she would have no authority over her. She started walking aimlessly with her mind filled with confusing thoughts. She didn't come to her senses until she turned the corner and collided headfirst with someone, causing her to fall backward.
She reflexively grabbed onto the white overall to stop her fall, and the man in front of her held onto the back of her neck to stop her from falling. Azalea's eyes remained wide open, and her face stiffened like a rock.
Only when she realized that she was no longer falling did she see the man holding onto the back of her neck. She quickly let go of him and slipped out of his grasp before rubbing the back of her neck. "I'm so sorry. I didn't see you," she apologized, giving him a weak smile.
The man before her was in awe as he looked at her. "It's okay," he replied in a calm, gentle voice that had a certain depth to it. Azalea couldn't help but smile at it. He was a tall, neat man, seemingly around her age, with faded dark circles around his eyes and messy hair, he was clearly sleep deprived or utterly. He was walking around in slippers and scrubs with a few stains of blood, but that didn't make him look scary; rather, he seemed like a pure soul.
"Are you hurt?" The man's question snapped Azalea out of her thoughts, and she gave him a warm smile. "No, I'm perfectly fine. Thank you for your help," she replied, feeling a flutter in her chest from the intensity of his gaze.
As the man's eyes scanned her, his expression shifted from concern to a creased brow. His gaze fell upon her foot, which had turned a deep shade of purple. "You're hurt," he stated, the concern in his voice evident.
Azalea was taken aback. "What? I am?" she asked with confusion, examining her foot with furrowed brows. "It doesn't look like a fresh bruise. Did you get it treated?" the man asked, his tone a mix of concern and curiosity.
"I completely forgot about it," Azalea clicked her tongue, feeling foolish for not noticing the pain earlier. "I will get it checked now," she said, still examining her foot with a thoughtful gaze.
"Mind if I help?" the man offered, and Azalea's train of thoughts came to a halt once again. "No, there's no need for that. I don't want to cause you any further inconvenience," she replied, feeling guilty for troubling him.
"Inconvenience? I'm a doctor. That's what I do. Also, my shift is over, so it's completely fine," he responded, trying to ease her guilt.
"If you say so," Azalea replied, feeling grateful for his kind offer.