"We’ll need the reports done before noon today," Alia said, placing a file on Aiden’s desk at the office.
It hadn’t even been three days since she had gone to the hospital with Matteo to get his cheek swabbed.
Ever since then, Alia had felt uncomfortable. It started off like a gnawing feeling in her chest that slowly migrated down to her stomach. Then, every morning after waking up and every ti she thought of Emline’s possible test results, she would feel a wave of nausea creeping up her throat.
It only got worse and worse. Sotis, dication she got from Dimitri through Isaac would work well enough to stamp down the feeling. Other tis, modern dicine didn’t have a solution for it.
Ronan had suggested that it might be from the amount of stress Alia had been going through of late. Frankly, she thought the sa.
Emline had been oddly silent after that. According to Aiden, she had been staying at the Montgory mansion as Catherine’s personal guest. The older woman had kept to her word― even if Emline was kicked out from the Hawthorne household, she would still be recognized as Catherine’s goddaughter. And left with nowhere else to go, she was to reside with the Montgory family.
After all, the seed in her belly could be growing the next generation of Montgorys. As a result, even Charles Montgory had been exceptionally nice to her during her stay, much to Aiden’s regret.
"Noon?" Aiden whined. "That’s so soon. Let just sleep an extra wink or two."
"You should’ve realized it was a working night," Alia said. "It’s already Friday. You can sleep all you want after work when the weekends roll in."
She wanted to say more, but there was a sudden uncomfortable flutter in her chest. Her tongue darted out to lick her bottom lip before swallowing. Her throat felt uncomfortably dry.
"It’s not my fault," Aiden continued to whine. "My mother had stay up and run errands for the brat that’s staying at my house. Even my dad has been strangely supportive of this." He huffed. "Maybe I should consider moving out. Do you think Ronan might have a spare room at his apartnt? Or maybe you and Matteo would like to adopt for this period of ti?"
Alia heaved deeply before furrowing her eyebrows, a difficult expression on her face. She needn’t say anything; everything that needed to be said could be heard in the silence.
"Maybe I should even look for Cheryl," Aiden continued to blab.
"I highly doubt Cherry would be keen on letting you stay over," she said. "And she’s out of town for the rest of the month."
"How about―"
"How about you finish up the reports so that you can spend the rest of your afternoon apartnt shopping?" Alia suggested, cutting him off at ho. "You have to finish the report for the collaboration with Berkenbilt Industrial that Matteo was working on beforehand. Here are the docunts you’ll need for reference. And this―"
She paused.
"Alia?" Aiden asked, looking up from the desk when he realized she had stopped speaking.
But before he could ask what was wrong, Alia turned and retched her entire stomach’s contents out into the potted plant next to his desk.
"Holy shit!"
Aiden jumped from his desk as Alia regurgitated the contents of her breakfast into the potted plant. She had sunk to her knees and was desperately clutching the edges of the pot, heaving and panting as the sll quickly filled the office.
Without wasting ti, he turned and grabbed one of the unopened bottles of mineral water, followed by a few napkins. Then, he squatted down next to her with a red elastic band.
"What did my brother feed you for breakfast? Expired milk?" he asked. As he spoke, his fingers worked nimbly to hold her hair back, securing it with the elastic band.
Once he was done, he twisted open the cap of the mineral water bottle and held it to Alia’s lips.
"Drink," he said. "Or at least gurgle out the leftover taste from your mouth."
Alia did as she was told, her head fuzzy with discomfort. Robotically, she took hold of the water bottle and took a large gulp, using it to rinse the leftover puke out. Then, once she was sure her mouth was clean enough, she instinctively swallowed a mouthful of water. Her throat felt so parched― it was scorching and burning from the stomach acid and her ears were ringing.
"Here," Aiden said, using the napkin to dab at the corners of her lips. "Do you need to see a doctor? Maybe you should take the rest of the day off."
"No," Alia said, "No, I’m fine. I just... I’ve just been stressed out lately. I haven’t been eating well."
And it was true. There were barely any food chunks in her puke, just a whole lot of bitter bile that had been gurgling in her stomach all morning. Whatever she ate she couldn’t stomach for long, so much so that she had to turn to soups and porridges most days.
"What is Matteo even doing?" Aiden asked angrily. "He’s not working now― he has plenty of ti to take care of you!"
Alia could only force out a weak smile. Matteo was indeed taking good care of her. However, she had often woken up in the middle of the night to see him in his study, pouring over endless docunts, his computer screen brightly lit. Sotis, he would be on the phone. It was occasionally Ronan on the other end of the line, but more often than not, Alia could make out enough of the conversation to guess it might be soone else.
Even though Matteo was no longer the CEO of X’el International, he still had tasks on hand he was handling. Whenever Alia asked about it, his reply was always the sa.
’Don’t worry about it.’
He had aged thirty years in the last three days.
"Your brother has enough on his plate," Alia said simply.
"If that’s the case, you could consider moving in with ," Aiden suggested. "I could take care of you. We could even go to work together in the morning."
"I am still your brother’s fiancée, Aiden," Alia reminded. Slowly, she tried to get back on her feet. "This is inappropriate."
The last thing she needed was Lady Vanity to be on her case again.
"Either way, you should think about it," Aiden said. "The offer will always be open."
Alia said nothing but smiled. While grateful, she couldn’t take up Aiden’s offer with everything that was going on.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and Alia pulled it out to have a look. Matteo’s na was attached to the ssage, and when she clicked it open, her heart stopped.
’I have the results.’
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