My Gorgeous Director

Chapter 7

At seven the next morning, Wren woke with a stabbing pain in her stomach.

She had nowhere to go after leaving last night, so she'd checked into a hotel. Sleep never came. Instead, she'd ordered several bottles of wine and drank until the world blurred around the edges. She couldn't even remember how much she'd finished. By the time she finally collapsed onto the bed, it had been nearly three in the morning.

Curled beneath the blankets, Wren pressed a hand against her abdomen and tried to endure it. But no matter how long she rubbed at the pain, the burning sensation only grew worse. Sweat soaked her back and slid down her temples.

In the end, she had no choice but to go to the hospital. Her car was still parked at Harbor Crest, so she called a cab instead. The driver took one look at her bloodless face and sped through the streets, getting her there in barely ten minutes.

Wren paid the fare and pushed the door open. One foot had already touched the pavement before she suddenly climbed back into the cab. "Can you take me somewhere else?"

The driver glanced at her through the rearview mirror. "Miss, this is the closest hospital. You should see a doctor first. The next nearest one is at least another twenty minutes away without traffic."

Wren was already hurting badly enough. The thought of enduring another twenty minutes made her give up immediately. "Okay. Thank you."

She stepped out obediently. It was the weekend. Her mother might not even be working today. Maybe they wouldn't run into each other at all. Besides, right now the pain mattered more than anything else.

Saturday mornings meant the emergency department was overflowing with people. The registration line stretched almost to the entrance.

Wren had only just reached the middle of the queue when a w******p notification popped up from Lynn.

Lynn: Did you see Yara's f*******: post?

Wren replied calmly.

Wren: I don't follow her anymore.

She used to. After all, they both worked at Winslow Group. But as time went on, every time Yara dragged Adrian away, she would post something online afterward. Sometimes it was a candid shot of Adrian's side profile. Sometimes it was Adrian buying her coffee, carrying her handbag, draping his jacket over her shoulders, or sitting beside her at the hospital while she received an IV drip. In the end, Wren could not stand it anymore and unfollowed her.

Even without looking, she could already guess what Lynn meant. If Lynn was asking, then Yara had definitely posted something again. Still, Wren thought she no longer cared.

After everything that happened last night, what humiliation could possibly hurt more than that? But the moment she opened the screenshot Lynn sent over, her chest tightened painfully anyway.

Yara's post from ten minutes earlier read: Finally got to try Adrian's homemade breakfast today. So happy.

The attached photo showed a beautifully prepared breakfast spread with muffins, bagels, bacon, fried eggs, fresh juice, and coffee. Every plate was carefully arranged, colorful, and perfectly balanced.

The messages from Lynn immediately started flooding in.

Lynn: What the hell?

Lynn: This "Adrian" means Adrian Jensen, right? That table, that background, that's obviously somebody's house. Did he seriously make Yara breakfast first thing in the morning? Did they spend the night together?

Lynn: Wren, are you kidding me? I was waiting to watch the drama and you just... lost like this?

Lynn: You dated him for three years. Yara's only been around for three months. Three years losing to three months. That's honestly pathetic.

Three years losing to three months. Yeah. That really was pathetic.

But Yara wasn't just some woman he'd known for three months. They had grown up together. Nearly thirty years of history stood behind them.

Wren never replied to Lynn's messages. Instead, she scrolled back up and zoomed in on the screenshot again, fury twisting her stomach until the pain grew even sharper.

The dining table and the background made it obvious at a glance that the photo had been taken in their apartment.

Wren had chosen that table herself. She had replaced the tablecloth and picked out the plates as well. Even the gold-rimmed carved coffee cup in Yara's hand was something Wren had spent half a day searching for overseas two months earlier. She had planned to give it as a gift.

That bastard Adrian. While she lay curled up in the hospital, suffering in pain, he brought his first love home, made her breakfast himself, and even used Wren's belongings without her permission.

If her stomach hadn't been cramping so violently right now, she would have stormed back there and flipped the entire table over herself.

Wren dialed Adrian's number directly. The call connected. But it was Yara who answered.

"Wren?"

Adrian wasn't in the dining room at the moment. His phone had been left on the table, and the second Yara saw Wren's name flash across the screen, she picked it up without hesitation.

"Why are you still calling Adrian?" she asked sweetly. "Didn't you two break up last night?"

The moment Yara learned they had split, she'd rushed to Harbor Crest first thing that morning.

Adrian had looked awful. He was still wearing yesterday's clothes, as though he'd spent the entire night sitting on the couch without sleeping. The ashtray beside him had been overflowing with cigarette butts.

Yara hated seeing him like that. "You love me," she'd told him earlier that morning. "Now that I'm back, you should finally be happy you got rid of her. So why do you look heartbroken? Don't tell me you actually developed feelings for her?"

At the time, Adrian had stared at her for a long moment before finally laughing softly. "Yeah," he'd admitted. "Maybe a little. She stayed with me for three years. Even a cat or dog gets hard to part with after that long."

Comparing Wren to a pet had pleased Yara immensely. So now she repeated every word to Wren exactly as he'd said it, expecting it to cut deep.

Instead, all she got in return was a cold laugh.

"Put Adrian on the phone."

"He can't answer right now."

Yara suddenly remembered the thunderstorm from the weekend before last. She had called Adrian then too, asking him to come keep her company, only for Wren to answer the phone and deliberately provoke her. Now it was finally her turn to return the favor.

"Adrian worked up quite a sweat earlier," she said lazily. "He's in the shower now."

Adrian really was showering. After staying up the entire night, he looked exhausted and disheveled. He had ordered breakfast for Yara first, then finally gone to clean himself up and change clothes.

Wren pressed harder against her violently churning stomach and drew in a slow breath.

"Fine. Then you listen carefully instead. The coffee cup you're using belongs to me. Now that you've put your mouth on it, it's basically the same as dropping it into a toilet. I don't want it anymore, so congratulations, it's yours. It's a collector's edition. You won't find another identical one anywhere. The cup cost twenty thousand dollars. Pay me back in full.

"And tell Adrian something for me too. Half the money for that apartment came from me. My name is on the deed. From now on, he doesn't bring any bitches into that apartment without my permission." The second the last word left her mouth, Wren hung up.

After finally making it through registration, Wren turned toward the elevators. She had barely taken a few steps before the pain became too much to bear.

Her body folded forward instinctively, her legs going weak beneath her. For a terrifying second, she nearly collapsed onto the floor.

Just before her knees gave out completely, someone caught her arm. "Well, Miss Sterling." The lazy drawl was maddeningly familiar. "Who are you planning to kneel to this early in the morning? There's not even a cross around here."

Wren looked up immediately. Of course it was Jasper. She hadn't expected to run into him at the hospital of all places.

"Mr. Shaw?"

Jasper stepped closer and sniffed lightly, his brows lifting. "Damn. You reek of alcohol. How much did you drink?"

He was standing far too close. Wren instinctively took half a step back. "Not that much."

Jasper's gaze swept across her pale face once before dropping to the registration slip in her hand. The next second, he snatched it away, glanced at the department number, then bent down and lifted her clean off the ground in one smooth motion.

"Hey!" Wren startled as the floor vanished beneath her feet. Instinctively, she grabbed onto his neck. "What are you doing?"

Jasper carried her forward without slowing. "At the speed you were moving, the doctor would've gone home before you made it to the third floor."

She had been walking slowly, sure, but not that slowly. Wren wanted to snap back, but since he was offering himself as a free wheelchair, there was no reason not to use him.

"Thanks..."

The word had barely left her lips when another vicious cramp twisted through her stomach. Her fingers tightened reflexively around the front of his shirt.

Jasper felt the sudden pull at his collar. Looking down at her bloodless face, he let out a short laugh. "What, were you drinking alcohol like it was water?"

His tone stayed teasing, but his pace noticeably quickened.

The elevators were still stuck on the fourth floor, with a crowd waiting outside them. Jasper didn't even bother stopping. He simply carried Wren straight toward the stairwell and headed upstairs.