Andre Matt, a reclusive billionaire, falls for Alicia, his beautiful and charming nurse, while battling an illness. Alicia is trapped in an abusive relationship with her dangerous husband, Zach, who refuses to let her go. As Andre's health improves, so does his affection for Alicia, but he faces a moral dilemma: risk everything to love the woman who has won his heart or leave her to her husband and watch as she remains ensnared in her own nightmare.
Andre opened his eyes slightly, preventing the rays of light that emitted around the room from entering his eyes. "Where am I?" He thought to himself. This place didn't look like his room or his study where he worked. He tried surveying his environment with squinted eyes and he couldn't make a head of it. "Mr Andre, you are awake?" A lady's voice reverberated around the room. The figure was so faint due to the squint but he could see her so close to the bed and she held what looked like a drip beside where he lay.
"I will get the doctor immediately", the figure said and walked briskly out of the room. Andre opened his eyes widely this time. He laid still for seconds, the reality of his environment dawning on him. It was their family hospital and he could remember this particular ceiling design so well. It was where his father had spent his last days. He had slept on this bed with his father for days before his father succumbed to death ten years ago, leaving him with barely anything to feed on. His dad was his only parent as he had lost his mom at birth. He could clearly remember how he had tearfully begged his father's friend who was the doctor to wake his father up. And that was where life began for him. He had vowed that he would work so hard to become wealthy that his children wouldn't lack a thing. And now, here he was, the youngest billionaire in the country but on the bed where his father had died. He doesn't even have a wife yet, talk more of children and he was going to end up like his father? How more ephemeral can life be? He thought sadly as he continued staring at the ceiling.
"Hey, son," came the familiar voice as the door opened. It was Dr. Peterson, a close friend of his father's. Andre recognized the voice immediately; it was the same warm greeting Dr. Peterson had used every day when he took Andre in after his father's death. Back then, Andre would hear that voice each evening as Dr. Peterson entered his room. Even after Andre moved to a different part of the city to build his career and become established, he chose this hospital despite his financial means allowing him to buy a hospital of his own because of the deep connection he had with Dr. Peterson and the comfort of the familiar. "Doctor, am I going to die? Andre asked inquisitively, ignoring the greeting and turning to the doctor expectantly. He didn't know what was wrong with him but whatever it was, he just hoped he would make it out of the hospital alive. "Is this how you greet now?" Doctor Peterson replied with a smile and checked the pressure of the drip. He then proceeded to look at Andre's eyes like there were some hidden mysteries in there. He touched his head and nodded slightly, feeling satisfied with whatever he wanted to feel.
"You're going to be alright, Andre." Doctor Peterson said with a glint of hope in his eyes. "You were rushed here this morning by your house workers reporting that you collapsed and when some diagnosis was carried out, we discovered that your kidney had failed. Fortunately, this is the early stage which means it can be remedied." Doctor Peterson said and paused. It was like he allowed the words to marinate in Andre's soul. He waited for a minute and when he realized that Andre didn't say a word, he grabbed a chair to sit down and continued speaking. "But it can't be treated right away. We will have to run a series of tests and some special medications for health management every day for five months. After we are sure that you're medically secured enough to go on with the surgery, we shoot. I would've loved to personally handle the every day special medications and treatment but you know how occupied I can be. Instead of this, I would employ the best of my nurses to come treat you at home every evening. I hope this is fine by you." Doctor Peterson said while searching Andre's eyes for the right reactions.
Andre sighed and stared at the ceiling, feeling grateful that he wouldn't be confined to this bed for an extended period before passing away. He appreciated Dr. Peterson's understanding of his reluctance to visit the hospital regularly and the likelihood that he might skip some medication doses. Recognizing his tendency to avoid hospital visits, Dr. Peterson anticipated that Andre might neglect his treatment, which could impact his health. Furthermore, Dr. Peterson was aware that Andre, who now works from home and has an introverted nature, might find it challenging to venture out after a long day of work. This made Andre realize this plan has been meticulously strategized. "Thank you, doctor. I am glad I am not going to die, after all," Andre said and smiled. "Of course, I concur with all that you said. I would have a ticket of entry to my residence sent to the hospital for the nurse who would be visiting" Andre added.
"Well done, son" Doctor Peterson said and patted Andre slightly on the shoulder. He then quickly stood up and headed toward the door as if he were in a hurry.
"You should be discharged tomorrow, he said, without looking back. "Your house workers will be here to pick your things and take care of the rest. See you later, son." Doctor Peterson made a final stop at the entrance of the door to wave and then he moved out briskly. Andre didn't say a word as he looked at Doctor Peterson's rearview. This man had grown older, he thought. He used to have a sturdy physique when his father was still alive but as the years went by, his built arms now looked like they had been starved of rigorous exercise and diet. This may be due to his undying love and commitment to the development of this hospital, he thought. Andre had imagined that Doctor Peterson was not the resident doctor as at the time his father was sick. Maybe his father would have died sooner, he thought. Doctor Peterson had gone all out for his dad, doing everything humanly possible to salvage his father's life and now again, doctor Peterson trying his best to save his own life too. The feeling of gratitude overwhelmed him and with a hushed tone, as if Doctor Peterson could hear him, he said "Thank you, Doctor".