Gloom
1370 Words
Ingrid
The small velvet box rested between Richard and I on the center console, the pair of wedding rings inside catching the glow of the passing streetlights each time the car slowed down. We had just left the jewelry store after finally correcting the mistake that had almost exposed us today. James had noticed the missing ring earlier, and if I hadn't reminded Richard after work, I would have walked into Mercer Corporation tomorrow making the same mistake again.
"I still can't believe we both forgot something so important," I muttered, turning the ring over between my fingers before sliding it onto my left hand. "Imagine if Cooper had been the one to notice first."
Richard chuckled softly, keeping his eyes on the road. "Considering how observant that man is, I wouldn't count on luck lasting forever. Besides, it looks better this way. If we're going to convince everyone we're happily married, we should at least remember the wedding rings."
A smile escaped my lips as I admired the simple platinum band now resting comfortably on my finger. It should have been there from the beginning. Such a tiny detail had almost ruined weeks of planning, and I silently promised myself not to make another careless mistake.
The shrill vibration of my phone interrupted the quiet atmosphere inside the car. My brows furrowed the moment Cooper's name appeared across the screen. Richard noticed it too, briefly glancing at me before slowing the vehicle by the roadside.
"He doesn't usually call after work, does he?" he asked.
I shook my head.
"No."
A strange feeling settled in my chest as I answered.
"Sir?"
The silence on the other end lasted barely a second, yet it felt unusually heavy. When Cooper finally spoke, his voice sounded nothing like the composed man I had left at the office barely an hour ago.
"Ingrid... where are you?"
"I'm on my way home, sir."
"I need you to come to Branch Hospital immediately."
My heart skipped.
"Hospital?"
"Holly collapsed during dinner."
Every muscle in my body stiffened.
"What happened?"
"I don't know." His breathing sounded uneven, almost frustrated. "The doctors are still running tests. James is handling the office, but I need tomorrow's project documents. They're in the blue file you took home for review."
"I have them with me."
"Good. Bring them... and hurry."
The call ended before I could ask another question.
For several seconds, neither Richard nor I spoke.
Finally, he started the engine again.
"Branch Hospital?"
I nodded silently.
The name alone was enough to make my chest tighten.
Neither of us spoke during the drive. Richard seemed to understand that I wasn't being quiet because of Holly alone. Every road leading toward Branch Hospital carried memories I had spent years trying to bury, memories that returned the moment the familiar building appeared in the distance.
I swallowed hard.
The bright sign standing proudly before the entrance hadn't changed.
Neither had the glass doors.
Neither had the cold white walls visible from outside.
The last time I crossed those doors, I had been wheeled in with hope blooming inside me. I remembered clutching my swollen stomach between painful contractions, smiling through tears because every scream brought me closer to meeting my baby. I had imagined tiny fingers wrapping around mine, imagined hearing that first cry every mother longed for.
Instead...
I was handed silence.
No cries.
No warm body.
No child.
Just condolences.
I never got to meet the little soul I carried for nine months.
Richard parked the car before gently placing his hand over mine.
"You don't have to force yourself."
I blinked away the tears threatening to gather.
"I'll be okay."
"You don't look okay."
A weak laugh escaped me.
"I probably won't ever be... but someone else's child needs help tonight."
He studied my face for a long moment before giving my hand a reassuring squeeze.
"Go. I'll wait here."
Taking a deep breath, I stepped out of the car and made my way toward the entrance. The familiar scent of antiseptic welcomed me instantly, making painful memories threaten to resurface once more. Nurses hurried from one ward to another while worried relatives filled almost every waiting chair, each face carrying fear, hope or exhaustion.
Following the directions from the reception desk, I arrived at the pediatric emergency unit.
My eyes searched the corridor before finally landing on him.
For a brief moment...
I almost didn't recognize Cooper.
Gone was the expensive tailored suit that made him look untouchable. Gone was the perfectly styled hair and polished shoes that completed the image of Mercer Corporation's intimidating CEO.
Instead, he wore a plain charcoal T-shirt beneath a dark hoodie left unzipped, black joggers and white sneakers. His hair was slightly disheveled, his jaw covered with the faint shadow of evening stubble, and his sleeves were carelessly pushed up as though he hadn't realized he'd done it.
He looked...
Human.
Not powerful.
Not intimidating.
Just...
A father.
His head remained lowered, both hands resting on his waist as he stared endlessly at the emergency room doors. Every few seconds he glanced toward them again, only to begin pacing the corridor before stopping exactly where he'd started. The anxiety radiating from him was impossible to miss.
This wasn't the Cooper Mercer everyone feared.
This was a man terrified of losing the one person who softened his heart.
Perhaps sensing someone watching him, he lifted his head.
Our eyes met.
For the first time since I'd known him, there wasn't a trace of arrogance in his gaze.
Only relief.
"You came."
"I left the moment you called."
He walked toward me, stopping just close enough to take the blue file from my hands. Our fingers brushed briefly, and I was startled by how cold his skin felt.
"Thank you."
The simple words caught me off guard.
He wasn't thanking me because I was his PA.
He was thanking me because, in this moment, he genuinely needed someone.
Before I could respond, the emergency room doors opened, and both our heads turned at once. A doctor stepped out, removing his gloves as his eyes searched the waiting area.
"Mr. Mercer?"
Cooper was beside him in seconds.
"How's my daughter?"
The doctor's expression remained calm.
"She's stable for now..."
My breath eased slightly.
"...but we'd like to keep her under observation tonight. From the preliminary examination, it appears to be acute food poisoning. We'll run additional tests to determine the exact cause."
The relief on Cooper's face disappeared almost immediately, replaced by confusion.
"Food poisoning?"
Just then, hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor.
"Ingrid!"
I turned.
Aurelia rushed toward me, her mascara streaked from crying, her usually elegant appearance completely ruined by panic.
Without warning, she grabbed both my hands.
"Ingrid... please."
I stared at her in surprise.
She looked nothing like the proud woman who had ordered people around only hours ago.
She looked...
Broken.
"I think this is my fault."
Her voice trembled as fresh tears spilled down her cheeks.
"I kept encouraging Holly to eat because she barely touched her lunch. I even asked the cook to prepare so many different dishes... What if... what if something was wrong with one of them?"
She covered her mouth, struggling to breathe.
"Cooper hasn't looked at me since we got here."
My gaze instinctively shifted toward him.
He was speaking with the doctor, his shoulders tense, his jaw locked tightly.
He hadn't once turned around.
Aurelia tightened her grip on my hands.
"You work with him every day."
Her voice dropped into a desperate whisper.
"You understand him better than I do lately."
I frowned.
"I don't think that's true."
"It is."
She shook her head repeatedly.
"When something scares Cooper, he doesn't shout."
"He goes quiet."
"And that silence... hurts more than anger."
She inhaled shakily before looking straight into my eyes.
"Please..."
"Tell me what I can do."
"What can I say to make him stop blaming me?"
The desperation in her voice made my heart ache.
For the first time since meeting Aurelia Mercer...
I wasn't looking at my sister.
I was looking at a frightened mother...
Desperately trying not to lose her daughter.
And perhaps...
Her husband too.
- Writer
