ANXIETY

I gulp down the third glass of water. It has been too long since Dr. Lemuel got into the operating room with his team, and they have not come out yet. If I ever said I was nervous before, I take it back. I probably didn't know the real meaning of that, but this is a real freaking wreck of anxiety.


I have tried out all I could in an endeavor to stroke my nervous system, but nothing is working. The terror is stinging so badly. My mind is a catastrophe of a thousand sentiments all discombobulated together. I should probably go and try to peek through the window. Maybe I will see something that will calm me down, or probably an aberrational chat with Damian's parents?

Yeah, I guess that will be good. They are like therapy, especially his mother. I know she will have sweet, comforting words for me, unlike this jerk here. There is no fucking point in staying inside this freaking room because this unbelievable jerk is keeping his word about not bothering me except by telling me to calm down. Calm down, my itchy ass! He can do that for me!

"Where are you going?" He rang before me before I could get to the impenetrable door.


"To someplace where I can find a distraction before I end up suffering a stroke out of anxiety," I retort.

"Can I be of any help?"


Really? He watched me pace the entire room countless times, and he didn't care to help. Why bother now?

"No. You can't. I am dying of anxiety in here. This room sucks! I am stepping out," I mumble.

Since he seems to have swallowed his tongue and his only way of chattering right now is through staring, I brush past him, ready to hike outside. I don't need his help anyway. It's good that he knows how to freaking respect boundaries.

On the third stride past him, I am roughly but gently hauled back by his familiar touch. I have no time to balance myself or build a deterrent between us. In a flicker, I am swaddled in his hard-rock chest, his protective arms shielding my back. I don't push him away. I don't dispute tangling myself in his sweet embrace. The resentment I had for him melts for a moment, and I find myself closing my eyes and drinking in his calming scent as I snuggle tighter to him.

I drape my arms around him and permit him to solace me. Maybe this is all I needed. This is a is a show of concern from him. This sweet feeling of tenderness and protectiveness comes from him. Did my father see this sweet side of him enough to trust him that much? I don't know, but one thing I am so sure of is that I can never feel this safe and comfortable somewhere else except in his arms.

He digs his five fingers into my hair, stroking my scalp in a soothing motion that tickles with a lulling sensation. I might end up falling asleep here. It is not difficult at all with all the spark I am getting. I can't help but think, Would he be here if Papa didn't call for him? Would he have still found a reason to come to me? Or he would have abandoned me, like, I mean nothing?

"Do you feel any better now?" His sweet voice startles my thoughts, making me jerk away from his hold slowly.

He snags my face and cups it up in his gentle arms, positioning my face at an angle where our eyes bore into each other.

"I... I do." I whisper.

"I understand your fears and worries, Ellie, but your father is in the hands of the best doctors. He will be okay. You both will have the time to enjoy life together," he says, stroking my cheeks with his thumbs.

"But it is taking too long, Damian! I need to know how the surgery is progressing and how my father is doing so far." I almost cry, but not really.

"It is an open heart surgery, Ellie! It is not something that simple to be done in a flash of a second. Chill, please! All shall be well, and I am here for you. Always."

Life is really funny, huh? Or is it playing its usual games with me? I scorn this man not only for being the betrothed I loathed all my life, but also for inflicting the pain of hiding his identity from me. I want to push him away to the distant corner of this world where I will not be able to see him even for a while while I soothe the heartaches. But still, amidst everything, he seems to be the only one who brings me the solace I need. In the crisis of all the sentiments, the longing for him is still as strong as the hatred I feel for him, or even more. I can't push him away, even if I want to. And there is this adoration I have developed for him due to my situation.

"You are so lucky, Damian, you know. I envy you," I whimper.

He frowns, deep furrows forming on his face. "Why?" He whispers, still maintaining eye contact.

"You have got both your parents strong and healthy. Whereas me? Mom left me way too soon. Her memories still hurt me because every single day I wish she was here. And now the only one left for me, the only family I have, is battling for his survival. I will be all alone in this world if anything were to happen to my father. Don't you see how lucky you are?"

He pulls the swivel chair and helps me sit down while he crouches before me with one knee, his hands cupping my face.

"Who said you would be all alone if anything happened, huh? I am here, Ellie, for you. I ain't going anywhere, and neither is your father. You will never be alone as long as I am breathing."