Chapter 50
“The nurse mentioned you’ve been taking care of me here,” Galatea said, her voice carrying newfound strength, yet there was a hint of melancholy beneath her words. “Thank you.”
She wasn’t accustomed to being taken care of, especially now when she had so few people around her. Mia was busy taking care of Harry and Elisa, and if it weren’t for Alaric, her hospital bed would have been a lonely place.
“Galatea, you don’t need to thank me,” Alaric replied quickly. His voice was filled with remorse. “I should be apologizing to you. This accident could have been avoided. It was me, always rushing you. If you hadn’t hurried to get to Nexus Innovations, it wouldn’t have happened.”
Harry, overhearing from the doorway, froze. What? Is it his fault that Mom had an accident?
“No,” Galatea replied, her smile forced but genuine. “Just my bad luck, I suppose.”
The accident had indeed happened on her way to Nexus Innovations, but she had followed all the traffic laws. It was simply a misfortune that couldn’t be helped.
Alaric had half-hoped that Galatea would scold him, but instead, her forgiveness made him feel even more guilty. He was at a loss for words.
“I’m feeling better now. You should get going,” Galatea insisted, her voice gentle but firm. “I’m a surgeon, after all. I know what to watch for and how to take care of myself. I’ve already kept you here for days.”
Their relationship wasn’t romantic. It was purely professional—boss and subordinate, creditor and debtor. She couldn’t justify keeping him around any longer, especially with his busy schedule, particularly with the upcoming construction of the entertainment complex.
Her words tugged at Alaric’s heart. He felt an ache, a desire to stay, but he couldn’t find the right words to explain himself.
Seeing his hesitation, Galatea gave a light, self-deprecating laugh. “You don’t think I’m playing hard to get, do you?”
Alaric blinked in surprise. “What?”
“You said it yourself—that I’m deceitful and manipulative,” Galatea teased, a playful glint in her eyes.
Though those words had once come from him, hearing them now made Alaric uncomfortable. He shifted, clearly not enjoying the direction the conversation had taken.
“Believe it or not, truly, that’s not the case,” Galatea explained earnestly. “There was never anything romantic between us. Your companionship while I was unconscious meant a lot to me, and I’d feel terrible if I caused any more delay.”
Griffon’s words had given Alaric a new perspective—a man focused entirely on his career, who shouldn’t be wasting time in a hospital. But here he was, still wanting to help, wanting to stay by her side.
“I believe you,” Alaric said, his voice quiet but resolute. “I bear some responsibility for your accident. Besides, you once saved my life, and thanks to your treatment, my insomnia has improved. Whether out of guilt or duty, I won’t leave until you’re discharged.”
Glancing at the time, Alaric added, “It’s been over forty-eight hours. I’ll go grab some light food for you.”
Though Alaric could have easily instructed his assistant to run this errand, he needed a brief respite from the unease that had settled in his chest.
As Alaric stepped into the elevator, Harry quietly entered the room. Seeing him, Galatea’s face lit up in surprise.
“Harry?” she exclaimed, her voice weak but full of affection.
Hadn’t Alaric told Harry and Elisa that they were going on a trip? Why was Harry here?
“Mom,” Harry said, his voice cracking. Tears streamed down his face as he took in the sight of her, lying frail in the hospital bed—a far cry from the vibrant woman he remembered.
“Harry, what are you doing here?” she asked, her voice gentle, but filled with warmth.
“Mom,” Harry stammered, his concern evident. “Are you hurt? Where does it hurt? Is it really that bad?”
Galatea’s heart clenched at his words. The worry in his voice was palpable, and it broke her heart.
“Not at all,” she reassured him, brushing his hair away with a soft smile. “Just a slight bump from a car. I’ll be up and about in a few days.”
“You can’t fool me. If it wasn’t serious, why were you unconscious for so long?” Harry’s voice quivered with emotion. He wiped his tears away, trying to summon some courage. “Mom, just wait for me. I’m going to grow up fast, and when I do, I’ll protect you.”
Galatea’s eyes misted over, her emotions stirred by his words. She held back the tears, smiling proudly as she replied, “Okay, I’ll wait for you to grow up.”
Harry leaned forward and kissed her softly on the cheek, a mixture of affection and worry in his gaze. “Mom, you need to behave and get better soon. I’ll be good too, work hard at school, take care of Mia and Elisa at home, so don’t worry.”
Galatea’s heart fluttered, but there was one thing she couldn’t ignore. “Where’s Elisa?” she asked anxiously.
“She doesn’t know yet,” Harry replied, looking down at the floor, clearly conflicted.
“Let’s keep it our secret, okay?” Galatea said softly.
Harry nodded without hesitation.
“You never seem to stop wandering off on your own. It’s getting dark, so head straight home,” Galatea instructed gently. “And don’t you dare come back to the hospital before I’m discharged, you hear?”
Harry nodded again, and with one last look at his mother, he left the room. But he didn’t leave immediately. Outside the elevator, he waited, his face set in a determined expression.
After a few minutes, Alaric appeared. He was startled when he saw Harry.
“Caspian?” Alaric’s surprise quickly shifted to annoyance. Despite his efforts to keep Caspian—Harry—in the dark about the situation, here he was. “Caspian, what’s wrong? Have you been crying?”
Harry’s eyes were reddened, and his voice was steady despite the tears. “I heard everything you said in the room.”
Alaric blinked, trying to make sense of the situation. What? “Everything you said?”
Harry’s words came out in a rush. “I just don’t get the adult world. It’s either you’re in love, or you’re not. Why would there be any faking it? And why do you say my mom is pretentious and manipulative? Do you even know her? If she’s that bad in your eyes, then stay away from her. She’s the person I’m desperately trying to protect. Why should she be hurt by you?”
Alaric opened his mouth to respond, but Harry cut him off. “Caspian, it’s not what you think.”
“I don’t want to hear it,” Harry snapped. His tone was resolute, like a child who had seen enough. “Someone cares about the people you don’t care about. Someone loves those you don’t love. If you don’t care and don’t like her, then leave her to those who do. Don’t hurt the person you don’t love. Even a kid understands that!”
With that, Harry turned on his heel and ran out, his words still echoing in Alaric’s mind. Alaric stood frozen for a moment before quickly following him.
He chased Harry to the yard, watching as Harry found Cormac. Only then did Alaric feel a small sense of relief. The kid probably didn’t want to see him right now, did he?
“Don’t hurt the one you don’t love.” The words rang in his ears, and Alaric couldn’t help but wonder—did he even understand what that really meant?
Indeed, even a kid understands such a simple truth.