It was already one in the afternoon when I glanced at the time on my phone. I turned it off and went back to what I was doing when I suddenly felt someone wrap their arms around me from behind. I didn't flinch. I already knew who it was. Just from the warmth of his breath brushing my shoulder, I recognized him instantly.
"Get off," I muttered, but he only groaned in response, clearly refusing to do as I said.
"What if someone walks in? Didn't I already tell you—"
"Fine, fine." He let go at last and slowly—carefully, still limping—made his way back to the bed.
We were already in Manila, in a new hospital. He'd been staying there for almost a week now, but the doctors still wouldn't allow him to leave. They said he needed to be observed longer. And yet there he was, wandering around like nothing had happened, even after being warned countless times not to move so much.
"I'm hungry," he complained, sounding like a sulky child.
I couldn't help the small smile that tugged at my lips, though I quickly hid it.
Yes, we were… okay. Call me wrong. Call me foolish for this part. But what could I do? I was done lying to myself. I was the only one getting hurt by that. I still didn't know his reasons—not yet—but he'd promised to tell me everything once all of this was over.
I was organizing the clothes I'd brought for him when I noticed he'd been staring at me for a while now.
"What?" I asked irritably.
"You're beautiful," he said.
I immediately looked away.
"Stop that. And don't forget—I haven't fully forgiven you yet. You still have to earn that forgiveness. Work for it," I said as I zipped the bag shut.
"I know. Don't worry. I'll work hard. I promise."
"Don't make promises like that," I replied. "I don't want to be disappointed again."
He only smiled at me. I picked up the clothes I'd prepared earlier and tossed them at him.
"Change. I'll step out for a bit."
"Why? Don't you want to see my biceps? Or my body? I don't mind."
I shot him a disgusted look. "In your dreams. Get dressed—you smell already," I joked.
He actually sniffed himself.
"I don't think so," he said, but I ignored him and walked out.
A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door.
"I'm done!" he shouted from inside.
I rolled my eyes and opened the door—only to yelp when he suddenly pulled me in, wrapped me in his arms, and pushed the door shut behind us. I froze, too startled to react.
"So," he teased, "do I smell bad?"
"H-hey—get off!" I pushed against him, but he was far too strong. I tried to break free several times, but in the end, I just gave up and let him hold me.
That was when the door suddenly opened.
My eyes widened in shock.
It was Rachelle.
I immediately shoved Francis away, sending him tumbling back onto the bed. I knew she'd seen us like that, but she chose not to say anything. Instead, she hurried over to him as he groaned in pain.
"Hey, are you okay? I brought your favorite fruits," she said, holding two baskets filled with fruit and flowers.
Francis forced a smile and sat up straight. He kept glancing at me, but I deliberately avoided his gaze.
"Wait, I'll peel one for you," Rachelle said.
Francis nodded, though I could tell his attention was still on me.
As she peeled the orange, I could feel her sharp, pointed glances cutting in my direction.
When she finished, she placed the fruit on a small plate and was about to feed him when he shook his head.
"Don't you think it's the job of the girl— I mean, my secretary—to feed me?" Francis said with a grin.
I shot him a sharp look, but he only grinned wider. I felt the irritation in Rachelle's stare after hearing that.
"Why, L? I mean, she's just your secretary, not your personal maid," she protested.
She had a point.
"But I insist," Francis replied.
I let out a deep breath, annoyed beyond words. This man was unbelievable.
"L, why are you doing this?" Rachelle asked, the frustration clear in her voice.
Before things could escalate, I spoke up.
"Ah—um, I just remembered. There's something I need to check at the office. I'll go ahead. I'll be back later."
I didn't wait for either of them to respond. I walked straight out.
The moment I stepped outside, it felt like a weight had been lifted off my chest. Still, irritation simmered beneath the relief.
What was his problem, anyway? So annoying.
---
The next morning, I arrived at the company early—but almost immediately, I noticed something was off.
I tried to ignore it, but when I stepped into the elevator, I felt the stares. People were looking at me as if I'd done something wrong—something I knew nothing about.
It didn't stop there. All the way down the hallway to my office, eyes followed me. Every person I passed seemed to be watching, whispering. I felt uneasy, but I forced myself to brush it off.
"Seriously. I thought Ms. Gianna was nice. Turns out she's just a gold digger."
I froze when I heard the whisper.
Gold digger?
Me?