Love Unbreakable
Bound By Love: Marrying My Disabled Husband
A Second Chance With The CEO After Divorce
A Second Chance With My Billionaire Love
Addicted To The Genius Lady With A Thousand Faces
A Return To Love's Madness
Mated To Big Brother-in-law
Unforeseen Temptation: Spoiled By The Aloof Magnate
When Love Comes Late
The Substitute Wife: My Poor Husband Is A Billionaire
The arrival of the new orderly caught my attention. It was safe to assume that he was new since I had never seen him before. After spending a decade in the confines of the Taren Wilson Corporation medical treatment complex, I had become familiar with the faces of both the patients and the staff. Although people came and went, the turnover rate was slow enough that any fresh face stood out. And let me tell you, this guy's face would stand out even in the midst of a bustling crowd.
His eyes, a mesmerizing shade of gray-blue, resembled turbulent clouds pregnant with rain. They were framed by long and thick lashes that added to their allure. His features were perfectly proportioned, with a prominent nose and full lips. A faint shadow of stubble adorned his strong jawline. However, what truly captured my attention was his smile. It was a smile that could knock your socks off, radiating warmth and kindness. A row of pearly white teeth peeked out between his lips, which formed a charming lopsided grin, slightly higher on the left than the right. And in that moment, he directed that adorable grin straight at me.
"Are you finished?" he asked, a playful tone lacing his words. I blinked, suddenly aware that I had been holding an empty fork halfway to my mouth. Indeed, I had completed my dinner.
There wasn't a morsel left on my plate, and I fervently hoped that I hadn't spent the past five minutes pretending to eat while my gaze remained fixated on him. Come on, Isabella. Keep your cool! "Oh. Um, yeah," I stammered, setting the fork down with utmost care beside my empty plate. With a slight nudge, I slid the tray, typical of a cafeteria-style setup, across the table towards him. "Thanks."
He swiftly scooped up the tray, deftly balancing it on his arm. His eyes traveled down to the tray, a single eyebrow raising in curiosity. "You must have really enjoyed it. Is the food here any good?"
My heart pounded harder within my chest, its rhythm echoing in my ears. I desperately tried to ignore it. Each time I believed that I had grown accustomed to the monotonous existence that encompassed my life within these medical facility walls, something always emerged to remind me of my yearning for a normal life beyond these confines. A life where the simple act of a charming guy engaging in more than a couple of words with me didn't send my pulse skyrocketing and leave my mouth as parched as a desert.
A life where I was more than just a patient. Where I was a normal twenty year-old, going out to bars with friends on the weekends and studying for exams—all the regular things twenty year-olds did, according to the shows I watched on the small TV in my room.
"Or... maybe not." The guy, whose name tag read Clark, unleashed his devastating smile at me again. A blush warmed my cheeks as I realized I'd zoned out. Again. Shit. I must look like a total freak show. But a decade of living a quarantined life will do that to a girl.
"Um, it’s fine," I answered, forcing my mouth to form words. "I think the staff food is probably better. We have to eat exactly what Doctor Gandor recommends. There's not a lot of variety."
He tilted his head, studying me curiously. "And you don't mind that?"
I shrugged, sitting back in my chair. My private room felt strangely small with him inside it. Each day, the orderlies followed their routine visits, but today was different. They didn't merely pass through; they lingered, taking the time for a conversation. This departure from the norm brought a mix of comfort and unease.
I attempted to convey my perspective to the orderly. "It's not a matter of whether I mind or not," I began. "Doctor Gandor and his team hold my life in their hands, and I dutifully adhere to their directives. If they were to propose something as unconventional as consuming raw meat or chewing on tree bark, I'd likely comply." My words were filled with earnestness, emphasizing the gravity of my reliance on medical guidance.
The orderly, with his short, spiky blond hair, unconsciously tousled it with his free hand while nodding in comprehension. A solemn expression descended upon his features as he absorbed the weight of my words, grasping the extent of my dependency on the medical team.
"Hmm. I suppose that does make sense," he replied thoughtfully. "Well, I hope they at least permit you to indulge in some dessert now and then."
A wide grin illuminated my face. "You needn't worry, they certainly do. Life wouldn't be worth living without the occasional sweet indulgence."
A chuckle escaped him, its warm melody washing over me like golden honey, causing a flutter of butterflies to awaken in my stomach. Not that I had much experience with this sort of thing, but a flicker of a thought crossed my mind—could he be flirting with me? The notion made my nerves tingle, threatening to constrict my throat, so I swiftly pushed it aside. After all, why would someone like him, so attractive and charming, flirt with a girl like me? It's not like I was repulsive or anything, but I couldn't help but question why he would take an interest in someone like me. My hair cascaded down to my mid-back, its rich brown hue resembling a delectable shade of chocolate. Unfortunately, I wasn't permitted to wear any makeup due to the risk of triggering an adverse reaction. But according to my mom, I didn't need it. She insisted that my golden eyes and high cheekbones were enough to captivate anyone, and that makeup would only hinder my natural beauty. Thanks, mom.
Still, as I glanced at the guy before me, I couldn't help but wonder if he would have any trouble finding a date in the outside world—the real world—where he could actually take a girl out. Unlike this place, where the closest thing to a date would be a visit to the cafeteria or the exercise yard, all while being scrutinized by a horde of doctors and lab technicians. Not exactly the most romantic activities one could engage in.
That's the reason why the idea of dating seemed like an unattainable dream for me, at least until the day when, if ever, I managed to escape this place. Doctor Gandor always made sure to remind both me and my mom that there was no definite end date for my treatment. He remained hopeful that one day they would find a cure, but he refused to make any false promises. I respected that. I didn't want him feeding me empty words or false hope. However, despite his frequent reminders that I might never be able to survive beyond these walls, I couldn't bring myself to believe it. Deep down, I knew that one day, I would walk out of here, completely healed. It had to happen.
"Well... I'll leave you to your thoughts. Didn't mean to disturb you; you seem lost in your own world," the orderly said, flashing me another warm smile as he slowly retreated from the small table in my room, his gaze fixed on the door. Damn it! I had drifted off again. What was wrong with me? I scolded myself internally, feeling frustrated at my inability to stay present in the moment.
Encountering other people in this underground confinement wasn't an uncommon occurrence for me. My mom faithfully visited me every week, and I frequently crossed paths with the staff and fellow patients. So, why was it that this particular guy had the power to turn my brain into mush? Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that the majority of the Taren staff were significantly older than me, and the patients tended to keep to themselves. Many of them were much sicker than I was, making socializing a challenging endeavor.
"No, really, it's fine!" I blurted out, my words dripping with a bit too much enthusiasm. "I actually enjoy having some company. Feel free to drop by whenever you want." The grin he flashed over his shoulder practically had me melting into a puddle. As he closed the door behind him, I dragged myself off the chair and unceremoniously face-planted onto the twin bed nestled in the corner of the room. Rolling onto my back, I draped an arm over my face, pushing aside my long hair in the process.