Chapter Fifty–Four
Ava’s POV
I didn’t hear Elson at first. His voice was distant, muffled behind the roaring in my ears and the pounding in my chest. My eyes were glued to the screen mounted on the restaurant wall. The sound was muted, but I didn’t need the audio to understand what was happening. The visuals were enough to steal the air from my
lungs.
Kyle collapsed.
One second, he was standing, facing the camera, looking all calm. The next, he fell like a sack of flour, crumpling to the ground before anyone could react. Then came the chaos. People rushed toward him, a blur of distraught movements and camera flashes, and then he was lifted onto a stretcher and whisked away by a medical bus. It was the kind of scene that sticks in your mind long after the footage ends.
“For f**k’s sake!”
Elson’s voice snapped me sharply out of my trance. His hand was on my shoulder, pulling me back toward him, but my eyes never left the screen. It was still stuck on the image of Kyle’s body lying still in the stretcher, looking lifeless and terrifying as he was wheeled into the medic bus. As if torturing me, that part was being replayed over and over again like a GIF.
“That is…” I croaked, the words barely leaving my lips.
Elson didn’t let me finish. “Come on,” he growled, his grip tightening as he yanked me toward the door. They’re here. Dammit, they found us again.”
I blinked, confused, my head still spinning, and glanced over my shoulder. That’s when I saw them: two reporters with small cameras tucked under their jackets, trying to look composed in the middle of the restaurant, whispering to a third man, whose phone was pressed to his ear. Their eyes were fixed on Elson and me. How could I have forgotten why we were here? Why I’d been running just minutes ago?
I let Elson drag me out of the restaurant, my feet barely moving as I stumbled after him. The world around me felt like it was shifting, like I was walking through a fog. The reporters‘ hurried voices and the curious stares from bystanders barely registered in my head as we dashed towards the car park.
Elson opened the car door and helped me inside. My heart was erratic, and my fingers trembled in my lap. I wasn’t cold, but I couldn’t stop shaking.
“What the actual hell!” Elson yelled as he slid into the driver’s seat and slammed the car door shut. “Do they have no shame?! We could sue them, every last one of them! What they did is criminal!”
He fired up the car engine, pulling out fast, almost hitting a reporter at the process. He didn’t care because his rant continued, but it was distant, muffled, as my mind replayed the image of Kyle collapsing, of the look on his face right before his knees buckled. Like he was confused and couldn’t understand what was happening, until he hit the ground.
I hardly heard Elson’s words about pressing charges. The thought of reporters being cruel was nothing to the sight of Kyle, crumpled on the floor. My chest tightened as memories of him in a similar situation flashed back: Of him at the hospital, hooked up to IVs, his lips dry, his skin pale. The quiet of his hospital room, only the beeping of the monitor filling the silence. Was this the same thing? Was it his kidneys again?
< Chapter Fifty–Four
“Are you even hearing me?” Elson’s voice cut through my thoughts, sharp and impatient.
+ Points >
I blinked, finally noticing him. I gave a short nod, but my lips wouldn’t move to speak. Elson’s
eyes flickered to
me for a moment before he sighed and turned his attention back to the road. I could feel his concern, but he
thankfully didn’t press further.
The rest of the ride was silent except for the sounds of the city, the honks of passing cars, and my own breathing, short and heavy with worry. I stared out the window, trying to clear my mind, but all I could see was the moment when Kyle had fallen. It played over and over in my mind, nonstop.
What had happened to him? Why had he collapsed? Was it his kidneys again? Did something else go wrong?
The not knowing was slowly killing me.
I should have seen it. I should’ve known. The last time Kyle visited to see Zareon, he looked so… off. Not just tired. He looked sick. His skin was thinner and dull, and his eyes were hooded and dark. The faintest smile on his lips didn’t reach his eyes. Maybe I did notice. Maybe I just didn’t want to care.
My hands clenched into fists in my lap, my nails digging into my skin, and my lips got tortured for a sin they `didn’t commit. I couldn’t stop shaking, even as Elson parked outside my house. I didn’t even notice the car had come to a stop until Elson let out a heavy sigh. “I’ll follow up on the legal side tomorrow,” he muttered. Just rest, alright? Stay off the internet and don’t pick up calls from unknown numbers. I’ll handle everything.”
”
He must have thought I was shaken from the trick the reporters pulled, which would have been the reason if I hadn’t seen that news. I don’t think he saw it.
I nodded again, offering him a small, strained smile before slipping out of the car and into the house.
But I didn’t rest, nor did I stay away from my phone. I couldn’t.
That night, I sat on one of the cushions in the sitting room, the TV on mute, and my phone clutched in my hand. I refreshed my feed over and over. The news was buzzing about the press conference incident, Kyle’s collapse, the sudden end to the conference, and how he was rushed to the hospital. There was nothing about me, nothing about the ambush from the reporters. The world had shifted its attention, just as always.
All they were concerned about was Kyle, yet they couldn’t find out what exactly happened after he was driven to the hospital, or the cause of his collapse.
All they had were just speculations: “Overworked.” “Stress.” “Dehydration.” But there was no official statement from the hospital, nothing from Kyle’s family. Nothing.
Well, except for her. His wife. Lillian.
She gave a short interview outside the hospital that evening, clutching a tissue as she dramatically dabbed at her eyes. “It’s been a hard time for our family,” she said. “Kyle’s health has always been delicate, but with love and prayers, I know we’ll get through it.”
Bullshit. Even I knew it was.
Not once did she mention what was wrong. Not once did she explain anything or say how Kyle was doing. She just soaked up the attention with fake tears, playing the grieving wife, who is desperate for sympathy. She wasn’t grieving, she was performing. A pity party for herself.
And the world ate it up.
My stomach churned, and a tight knot formed in my chest. I had to look away. I couldn’t stomach her act. The
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way she made it all about her was sickening. I’m not saying that because I’m being jealous or bitter, but
because it was that obvious.
I knew I should stop, that I should focus on something else. But the thought of Kyle, lying in a hospital bed,
without knowing how he is fairing, and with no one truly addressing what was wrong, bit at me.
I was awake all through the night, my eyes heavy but too stubborn to shut I clutched my phone tighter, still refreshing the feed, hoping for an update. But there were none.
The only time I had a break was when I stood up to check on Zareon, then again to use the bathroom. I had no real rest. It was as if I couldn’t escape the constant anxiety, the fear that something had happened to Kyle, something no one would tell me because I wasn’t his wife anymore. Because I had no right to know.
By the time the first light seeped through the curtain, I was exhausted and frustrated. I tossed the remote across the sofa, my frustration mixing with my fear. What if something had happened to him? I mean no news of him since he collapsed. What if something terrible happened and I couldn’t find out because I wasn’t in his life anymore?
My frustration, mixed with fear, instantly switched to anger.
Why was I even worried and feeling this way because of him? He was my ex. The only thing tying us together was Zareon. I had no reason to feel this way. I am just his baby mama and nothing else, so why am I having a sleepless night because of a man who wasn’t mine?
Despite my switch in mood, I couldn’t shake the feeling of fear and concern. It was like a stubborn stain that
wouldn’t come off.
Determined to stay focused on my personal life, I dropped my phone on the cushion. However, as I dropped my phone to leave the room to check on my son, my screen lit up with a number I didn’t recognize. I frowned, heart racing, as the scene of yesterday’s ambush flooded my head.
Because of Kyle’s collapse incident, the news of me that was supposed to trend was put on hold as Kyle’s topic became the top search. I didn’t know how to feel about that. But that left me out of the media’s eyes for now, so maybe this call wasn’t from the reporters.
So, who could it be?
Curious, I hesitated as the phone continued to ring, my thumb hovering over the green button. But, with a tut of my teeth, I withdrew my hand. What if it was those damn reporters again? They’d do anything just to get paid. They could still be playing tricks on me, on the sidelines, even if the news was hot about someone else. The ringing stopped, then rang almost immediately again.
Still, I didn’t answer; rather, I turned around the cushion to make my way to Zareon’s room when my phone beeped with a message.
Now very curious, I leaned on the cushion to pick up my phone, but what I saw when I clicked on the made my breath catch in my throat.
I froze. Completely.
My fingers trembled as I read the message again. And again.
age
