CHAPTER SEVEN
1008 Words
Chapter Seven
Xavier
I hated hospitals.
The smell.
The silence.
The helplessness.
Everything about them reminded me of things money couldn’t fix.
And I despised things beyond my control.
I walked beside Eve Adams through the crowded hospital hallway while she tried—and failed—to hide how terrified she was.
Her hands trembled slightly.
She kept biting the inside of her cheek.
And every few seconds, she inhaled sharply like she was forcing herself not to break apart.
I noticed all of it.
Of course I did.
“Which room?” I asked quietly.
“Third floor.”
Her voice sounded distant.
Small.
I disliked hearing her sound fragile.
The elevator doors opened, and Eve moved quickly down the hallway before stopping outside a hospital room.
She froze.
Fear crossed her face so openly that something tightened painfully inside my chest.
Then the door opened.
Daniel Adams stepped out first.
The resemblance between them was obvious.
Same dark eyes.
Same protective expression.
Only his immediately hardened when he saw me standing beside her.
“Eve,” he said softly, ignoring me completely, “Mom’s awake now.”
Relief flooded her face instantly.
She rushed into the room without hesitation.
Leaving me alone with her brother.
Interesting.
Daniel crossed his arms slowly. “You’re the boss.”
Not a question.
I nodded once.
“The billionaire.”
Still not a question.
“Yes.”
His jaw tightened slightly.
“I don’t trust rich men.”
I almost smiled.
“I didn’t ask you to.”
That answer clearly surprised him.
Good.
Most people expected intimidation from me.
Very few expected honesty.
Daniel studied me carefully for several seconds.
Then finally asked, “Why are you here?”
Simple question.
Complicated answer.
Because the second Eve looked scared, nothing else mattered.
Because hearing panic in her voice made my chest feel strangely tight.
Because somewhere along the way, protecting her stopped feeling optional.
“I drove her,” I answered calmly.
“That’s all?”
No.
Not even close.
But I wasn’t ready to explain feelings I barely understood myself.
Thankfully, I was saved from answering when Eve suddenly appeared again.
“You can come inside,” she said quietly.
I entered slowly.
And immediately understood where Eve got her warmth from.
Mia Adams looked weak, exhausted, and pale from illness.
But her smile?
It reminded me painfully of Eve’s.
Soft.
Gentle.
Comforting.
“You must be Xavier,” she said warmly.
Eve looked horrified instantly. “Mom—”
“What?” her mother asked innocently. “You talk about him constantly.”
Eve nearly choked.
I looked toward her calmly.
Interesting information.
Very interesting.
“I do not,” Eve argued immediately.
“You complained about him for forty minutes last week,” Daniel added helpfully.
“Daniel.”
“And yesterday you called him emotionally exhausting.”
I finally smiled slightly.
Eve looked like she wanted the floor to open and swallow her whole.
Unexpectedly…
I found it adorable.
“You’re all terrible people,” she muttered.
Her mother laughed weakly before looking back at me.
“Thank you for bringing her here.”
“It wasn’t a problem.”
Eve glanced toward me quickly at that.
Like she still couldn’t believe I came.
Truthfully…
Neither could I.
Normally, I avoided emotional situations.
Avoided vulnerability.
Avoided attachment.
Yet here I was standing inside a hospital room feeling more emotionally aware than I had in years.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
A nurse entered moments later holding paperwork.
“Miss Adams, we need confirmation for the next treatment schedule.”
I watched Eve’s face immediately change.
Worry.
Fear.
Stress.
The nurse continued gently, “We understand the financial situation is difficult, but—”
Eve nodded quickly. “I’ll handle it.”
But I saw the panic hidden beneath her calm expression.
And suddenly…
Everything became very clear.
Money was hurting her.
The hospital bills.
The pressure.
The exhaustion she constantly carried.
The realization made anger rise sharply inside me.
Not at her.
At the situation.
At the fact she was carrying all this alone.
The nurse left shortly afterward, and silence filled the room briefly.
Then Eve stood suddenly.
“I need coffee.”
Translation:
I need a moment before I emotionally collapse in front of everyone.
I recognized emotional avoidance because I perfected it myself.
“I’ll come with you,” I said immediately.
She looked ready to refuse.
Then sighed softly. “Fine.”
The hospital café downstairs was almost empty.
Eve stood near the counter staring blankly at the menu without actually reading it.
“You haven’t slept properly in days,” I observed.
She laughed quietly without humor. “You sound hypocritical.”
Fair point.
The cashier took our orders before disappearing again.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then finally—
“I hate feeling helpless,” Eve admitted softly.
The honesty in her voice caught me off guard.
“She’s my mother,” she continued quietly. “She spent her whole life taking care of us, and now I can barely help her.”
I watched her carefully.
Strong people rarely spoke about pain openly.
Which meant this confession mattered.
“You are helping her.”
“It doesn’t feel like enough.”
I understood that feeling better than she realized.
The need to fix everything.
Control everything.
Protect everyone.
And the anger when you couldn’t.
Without thinking, I stepped closer.
Close enough to notice the tiredness in her eyes.
Close enough to feel her breathing pause slightly.
“You carry too much alone,” I said quietly.
Her gaze lifted slowly toward mine.
And there it was again.
That dangerous silence between us.
Heavy.
Emotional.
Intimate.
“You notice too much,” she whispered.
“Yes.”
Neither of us moved.
Neither of us looked away.
And for one reckless second…
I wanted to kiss her.
The realization hit me like a warning.
Because once a man like me crossed that line—
There would be no going back.
- Writer
