Vanessa:
Scot made his way upstairs after his father told him he'd have to openly apologise for his actions. I couldn't help but feel bad for him.
"Vanessa, please go check on him… and help him clean up his wounds," Scot's father told me. "But I have to go see Elvis at the hospital," I objected.
I didn't know how Scot would react when he found out his father had asked me to come to check on him and help him clean up his wounds, so I tried to bypass the responsibility
."Go, I'll take you to the hospital when you're done," Clark offered, and I shot him a small smile.
"Thank you, son. And welcome home," Scot's father said before patting Clark's shoulder and walking away.
Clark plopped on the couch, feeling comfortable with a grin on his face. I rolled my eyes before heading upstairs.I knocked on the door when I finally located it.
"Whoever it is, go away." Scot's cold voice echoed from the other side."It's me, Vanessa," I said, but there was no response from him. I raised my hand to knock again, but before I could do it, the door opened on its own.When I walked inside, my jaw fell open when I saw a shirtless Scot with just a towel wrapped around his waist, standing close to a bed that was stationed on the right-hand side of the large room.
My eyes roamed over him for a few seconds.His narrow hips made his v-lines visible, and the sight of his completely ripped abs made me feel the utmost desire in between my legs.
He has a written tattoo on his right chest, but I couldn't make out what it says because it was too small. I could swear I almost drooled at the sight of his body.Damn! He's hot."Sorry," I said quickly, turning to look away."What do you want?" he asked, his voice low and husky."I, umm… I was thinking maybe you needed help, you know, in cleaning your wound," I said, gesturing to his right brow.
He must have ripped off the previous bandage out of anger.
"It's fine; I'll do it myself, " he retorts, his face emotionless."It's bleeding and needs to be to—" I informed him.
"I said I'll do it myself." He raised his voice."Umm… okay. I'll be leaving then."
I started to move toward the door, but he stopped me in my tracks."Wait," he called, and I turned to face him, "there's a first aid kit in the locker." He gestured to a lockbox that looked like a wardrobe just opposite the bed he was standing next to.
I got first aid and turned to face him; he was already sitting on the bed. I sat next to him. I could feel his eyes on me as I helped clean the bleeding area.
"Is this supposed to be your room?" I enquired, breaking the silence between us. The room looked old but tidied."Wow," he whined in pain, holding my hand when I applied a little pressure on the wound. The cut seems deep.
"Sorry," I said quickly. He slowly let go of my hand, and I continued.
Carefully this time."It's my mom's," he replied, his voice low and timid. "Your mom's?" I bandaged the wound.
"Where is she at?" I added, curious to know, but suddenly regretted why I'd asked when his eyes softened.
"I believe you are done," he said, standing up from the bed and walking towards the window. "You may leave now," he told me."Uh… yes, I'm done," I kept back the first aid kit and turned back to face him. "I – Umm… I'll be leaving now, I said before walking to the door."Vanessa?" he called out, and I halted. "Thank you," he said, and I delivered a smile before walking out.
I went to the hospital with Clark, and I felt relieved when I discovered Elvis was responding to the chemotherapy, but regardless of the good news, I couldn't help but think about Scot back at the family mansion.
His mood seemed to change when I asked about his mother. Why doesn't he want to talk about his mom?
"Vanessa!" a voice pulled me out of my sleep."Huh"
"Are you okay?" Clark asked. "C'mon, we have to go. It's getting late.
"Yeah, sure." I stood up from the chair beside Elvis's bed. He was fast asleep. I tucked him properly and planted a soft kiss on his forehead before leaving the room.Kate, the nurse, had assured me to look after Elvis and take care of him while I was away.
I got into the car with Clark, and we hit the highway. He was kind enough to stay with me while the doctor began the treatment of Elvis.
On our way here he had told me about his trip abroad to rectify a business deal that was about to break down and which Scot was previously in charge of.
Though he's older than Scot, he proves to be more sociable.
I didn't get the chance to talk to him about Scot earlier; he always seems to have something to say. I love his company.
"So… you're just going to drop me off and leave, right?" I asked him. I noticed he was waiting for me to break the silence since he was continuously tapping the steering wheel.
"Yes. I still have some pending work to take care of at the office tomorrow."
"So you're heading back to work first thing tomorrow morning?… No days off, no rest, nothing?" I asked with raised brows.
"You got it," he answered, smiling. I couldn't help but shake my head dismissively.
We arrived at the family mansion, and Clark bid me farewell before leaving.
We couldn't go back to Scot's manor because the news has it that some reporters had been spotted in the vicinity of the mansion; they needed answers from Scot himself.
I got inside, making my way up the stairs and down the passageway.
I heard some voices coming from an unknown room which made me stop in my tracks.
The room has a gigantic brown wooden door, and I noticed it was slightly open.
"All this time I've been blaming myself for not staying back to look after her, not knowing she sent you so many notes begging to spend her final days with me!"
It was Scot's voice, and it was louder this time. I drew closer, trying to make out what the outburst was all about.
The room has many collections of artwork, so I presumed it was an art gallery.
Some notes were littered on the ground."You have no idea how badly I wanted to tell you, but it was going to distract you from getting the Hidalgo's deal completed, and the company needed that deal. Try to understand,"
Scot's father answered back, defending his actions.Scot chuckled softly. "Can you even hear yourself speak?" he started, "She loved you, you know?… Just like every other woman would love her husband, but all you've ever cared about is the goddam company!"
Scot's voice was dripping with disdain."That's not true. We both know I loved your mother not until cancer took her away from me."
"No, you don't love her. She asked for one thing, Dad, to be with her son, and you could give her that," said Scot. "You know what? I can't stay here anymore," he added, making his way to the exit where I was watching.
Oh, shit!I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, making my way to the bedroom I was supposed to share with Scot for the night.
As soon as I got in, I slammed the door behind me, gasping for air.
Scot's mother died of cancer?