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“No, there is no need for that. I will just take a cab.”
“No, I insist.”
Not having the willpower to argue with him, I acquiesce. “Fine.”
“Good.” He rubs his knuckles gently against my face before standing. “I will call him now. He will meet you at the entrance.”
“Thanks, Ethan.” I get on my feet and start walking away.
“Jessy…let me know if you need anything. I’m sorry you had to go through that again.”
I give him a curt nod before walking out of his office.
As I sit in the back of Ethan’s car, I try to forget about the elevator incident, but when I close my eyes, it’s all I can see. So, I decide to keep my eyes open.
As the car comes to a halt in front of a hospital, I turn to the driver, confusion knitting my brows. “Um, excuse me, but why are we here?” I ask, my voice tinged with uncertainty.
I had been too preoccupied with my thoughts to notice that the driver had taken a different route from the one that led to my apartment.
The driver meets my gaze through the rearview mirror, his eyes soft with empathy. “Miss Martin, Mr. Reid instructed me to bring you here—the staff hospital,” he explains gently.
I blink in surprise, the realization sinking in. “But I told him, I’m fine. I don’t need to go to the hospital.”
The driver’s expression is sympathetic. “Mr. Reid insisted I bring you here. He’s worried about you.”
I swallow hard, feeling a lump form in my throat, touched by Ethan’s concern for me. “I guess I will just have to get checked then,” I manage to say, my voice barely above a whisper.
As if on cue, my phone buzzes with Ethan’s call. I hesitantly pick up, pressing it to my ear.
“Hello? I see that you asked your driver to bring me to the hospital even after I told you that I’m all right.”
There’s a brief pause on the other end of the line before Ethan speaks again, his voice soft yet determined.
“I know you said you’re okay, but I just want to be sure. Please, Jessy, humor me and go into the hospital to get checked out. It’ll put my mind at ease.”
His words tug at my heartstrings, and I find myself relenting, unable to deny him the peace of mind he seeks. “Okay, Ethan,” I concede, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll go in and get checked.”
A sense of fondness relief floods through me as I hear Ethan’s seemingly grateful response. “Thank you, Jessy. I will give you a call later to find out how it goes.”
“All right,” I reply, a faint smile tugging at my lips.
Later that night, as I lie in bed, surrounded by the comforting darkness of my apartment, I find myself unable to shake off the lingering sense of unease that has settled over me like a heavy blanket.
Despite the exhaustion weighing down my limbs, sleep eludes me, and each time I close my eyes, all I can see is the suffocating darkness of the elevator, the walls closing in around me.
The medications the doctor hospital had prescribed me seem to do little to ease my racing thoughts, and I toss and turn restlessly in bed.
If not for fear of overdosing, I would take more than was prescribed just so I could be able to get some sleep.
Instead, I try to focus on my breathing, willing myself to relax, but the memories of the suffocating darkness and of being trapped in that confined space refuse to fade.
Each breath feels shallow and constricting as if the walls of the elevator are still closing in on me, threatening to swallow me whole.
With a frustrated sigh, I reach for my phone, hoping that maybe a distraction will help ease my troubled mind.
As I unlock it, a new message from Ethan pops up.
Ethan: How are you holding up?
