Chapter 55 He Lied to Her
With just a glance, Gabriel snuffed out the glow of his phone without responding to any messages.
"Something up?" Jessica probed, noting the persistent buzzing of his device. "I heard your phone going off."
"It's nothing," he said flatly.
"Oh." Jessica just nodded.
His silence meant she had no further grounds to inquire.
After Jessica dried her hair, Gabriel switched off the bedroom lights and they both slipped into bed. The room settled into a deep quiet. For a moment, Jessica thought she could trace their breaths in the stillness.
Tucking the covers tight, she closed her eyes and let the conversation drop. Yet, she felt the persistent vibrations of Gabriel's phone, the screen intermittently lighting up. He turned to check it, and a palpable heaviness enveloped him.
Time passed before she heard the faint sounds of movement.
Cracking her eyes open, Jessica saw Gabriel rising from the bed, beginning to change his clothes. It seemed that he had agreed to go. Deciding to see Diana at this hour meant he was resolved to do so.
Inside the cocoon of her blankets, Jessica stiffened, becoming as still as a statue wrapped in fabric, daring not to stir. It was as if she feared alerting him to her wakefulness, even her eyes conspiring to remain shut.
A few minutes later, the sound of clothing suggested Gabriel was dressed. Next came the soft click of the door closing. She knew then—he was gone.
He had left to see her. Without a word, sneaking away while she was presumably asleep. He must've thought she was oblivious to it all.
Ironically, she was acutely aware of everything. "Gabriel," she whispered into the blanket, her voice etched with distress.
Suddenly, the distant roar of thunder broke the silence, and rain seemed imminent.
Jessica sat up, hugging herself, it was pitch black, the darkness making the thunder all the more pronounced.
When Gabriel arrived at the hospital, the rain had already started. The ward was deserted and there was no sign of Diana.
He questioned the doctor, the nurses, until he finally learned that Diana was outside.
Through the window, he clearly saw that Diana sitting in the hospital's garden, exposed to the sky's fury, the downpour drenching her.
Gabriel immediately grabbed an umbrella and dashed downstairs. Seeing Diana soaked through, sitting in her wheelchair in the rain, Gabriel's fury instantly melted into concern. She was as drenched like a drowned rat, her wrists red and swollen from the water.
Wordlessly, he popped the umbrella open above her head. "Let's get you back inside," Gabriel murmured.
At the sound of his voice, Diana turned around, her face breaking into a gratified smile. "Gabriel, you came. I knew you would," she beamed.
"You can't let go of me, can you? You still care," she probed, tears of joy spilling from her eyes.
Gabriel responded not with words, but with action, silently wheeling her back to her room. As they entered, he turned to the nursing aide and instructed, "Give her a warm shower and get her into some clean clothes."
Some fifteen minutes later, Diana emerged from the bathroom, sporting a fresh set of pajamas, her posture exuding cleanliness as well as order.
Dr. Martin was already waiting in the room. Before Diana could utter a word, Gabriel stepped in. "Check her wrist. Dress the wound properly," he directed.
As the doctor turned his attention to her, Gabriel stood by, a grim look on his face. Seeing that her wrist, far from healing, had only worsened and showed signs of infection made his brows knot like coarse twine.
After the wound was tended to and everyone had left, Diana sat on the hospital bed, unusually calm and subdued.
In the heavy silence of the room, Gabriel's dark eyes pierced her, though he said nothing.
Unable to bear the weight of his gaze any longer, Diana spoke first. "Gabriel, please don't look at me like that. It frightens me."
"Now you're scared?" he quipped icily. "Why weren't you scared when you neglected the doctor's advice and your wound got worse? Do you even realize how serious this is?"
"Of course, I do!" Diana lifted her head, wounded pride in her eyes. "But what does it matter when you don't care? Why should I?"
"You should know by now how much I hate it when you use your injuries to manipulate me," he scolded.
"I know," she admitted, "but how else could I see you?"
Seizing his hand in hers, her voice cracked with emotion. "Gabriel, I was wrong to do that. But I miss you. It's driving me mad being without you. Do you even understand what I've been through these past days?"
"Night after night, I can't sleep. With my eyes open or closed, all I see is you," Diana confessed.
Even the hardest of men can't remain indifferent to a woman's tearful confessions of love and longing.
Gabriel was no exception. Something inside him softened, perhaps it was a compassion that he could no longer contain.
Stepping forward, he tucked Diana's hand under the blanket, making sure she was snug. "Sleep now. I'll stay for a while."
"Really?" her voice was a mix of happiness and relief. "You mean that?" Her face was alight with joy and satisfaction.
"Mm," he nodded in response.
Outside, the rain was pounding harder by the minute. Gabriel listened to the thunder as his brows furrowed deeply in concern.
It hadn't seemed like rain when he'd stepped out earlier, and the forecast hadn't mentioned it either. And yet, there it was—a downpour out of nowhere.
He knew Jessica hated thunderstorms. Alone at home, he wondered how soundly she could be sleeping.
His gaze returned to Diana, resting in the hospital bed, and Gabriel was caught in a profound dilemma.
At this point, Jessica was in a car. After several loud cracks of thunder, she had made up her mind, left the house, and caught a ride.
She was heading to see Garce, planning to spend the night there. She feared she wouldn't make it through the evening alone.
In her rush, she'd forgotten her cell phone.
As the relentless rain intensified, it struck her that she had left not only her phone but also her umbrella because the rain had not poured yet when she'd stepped out.
The dim glow of streetlights barely cut through the pouring rain, and the streets were nearly empty. The looming buildings were barely visible in the shadows.
Jessica huddled in the back seat of the car, wrapping her arms around herself.
The full extent of her fear just started to kick in. Gruesome stories of taxi incidents invaded her thoughts, uncontrollable and disturbing. The more she dwelled on them, the tighter she hugged herself, besieged by fear.
Thankfully, she remembered the way to Grace's complex. Upon arrival, she paid the fare, flung open the car door, and ran into the complex like a madwoman.
With the elevator entrance a good distance from the gate and no umbrella to shelter her, Jessica was left to dash through the rain.
She didn't catch her breath until she reached the elevator, rode it up, and rang the doorbell.
However, when Quentin Taft swung open the door, Jessica froze in complete shock. ‘Quentin Taft? What was he doing here this late at night?’ she questioned, inwardly.
Jessica was no naive young lady; she knew what it implied when a man was in a woman's home at such an hour.
Both were taken aback, as neither found the words at first.
It was only when Grace's voice called out from within, "Quentin Taft, did the delivery come that fast? Bring it in, I'm starving!" that the silence was broken.
