Chapter 19 Diagnosis
The wine was mild but potent, and once Ashley stepped out of the car into the wind, she felt light-headed with a spicy burn on her cheeks.
Henry Larson Villa had a strict ban on motor vehicles at ground level, so her driver left her at the main entrance before leaving.
Ashley rubbed her temples to alleviate the pressure, staggering forward unevenly.
A car's headlights cut across her path, dazzlingly bright.
She stepped aside, unstable on her feet and not wanting to cause a scene, but the car stopped beside her.
Damian had spotted her the moment she exited the vehicle, her slender and elegant silhouette distinctive against the night. Her hair danced in the wind, animated and alive.
Rolling down his window, Damian's expression was dark, "Quite the wild night out, coming home at dawn reeking of alcohol."
And draped in another man's coat.
Hayden said the wound on her back had gotten infected, and she deserved it for being reckless without any common sense.
Ashley's gaze sharpened as she discerned the man's chiseled features under the streetlight, his presence felt everywhere.
"We're just collaborators, no need to report my personal life to you."
Her tone was brusque, each word laced with thorns.
Damian, with one hand resting on the steering wheel, had tossed his jacket onto the passenger seat when he got into the car, now wearing only his white shirt. The cuffs were undone, his sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal a tight wrist highlighted by the porcelain watchband that accentuated his skin texture.
If he stayed silent, he could pass for a perfect sculpture in the grand hall of a palace.
"KM only hires lawyers of skill and character," Damian started, his voice cool, “Got too tipsy to remember the contract details? Let me jog your memory."
Ashley took a deep breath, reminding herself not to take Damian too seriously; it wasn't good for her lungs, “Stick to business. Personal attacks won't get you far. Care for a primer on how the courts handle such cases?"
He casually watched her lips move, agile in speech, "If your professional competence was half as good as your eloquence, you wouldn't even struggle to buy a house."
"Turns of phrase, they depend on the listener and the situation," Ashley retorted smoothly, “In the company of a master like Damian, one's own skills inevitably sharpen."
Damian had drunk just a glass of wine; far from drunk, yet the remnant charm of the nighttime breeze and stars left him slightly buzzed. He tilted his elbow against the car window, "Who's the man of the evening?"
Head throbbing, barely stable on her feet, Ashley had no patience for Damian's nonsense, “There are over six billion people on the planet, at least a fifth are adult men; take your pick."
"Oh, not choosy, are we?" Damian's tone held a mock.
"If I can fancy even you, why be picky?" she shot back.
A muscle twitched in Damian's cheek, anger quickly filling his brow, “Improvement. You've learned to play the martyr."
The night air was cool but couldn't quell Ashley's fire. In the battle of sexes, there are certain disadvantages for women; she couldn't just throw decorum to the wind and lash out, gritting her teeth, “Damian, there is no shortage of women seeking after you. Just take care of your health, after all, it's not the field that wears out, but the ox that dies."
She would never have said such a thing three years prior, but curiosity flickered across Damian's face, “You couldn't answer where you'd been last time I asked. Fine, now I get it."
"What do you mean by that?" Ashley asked.
His face darkened, "Praising your fast learning skill."
She wanted to question his look, but Damian's car had already sped away, leaving a long trail of taillights as he drove into the garage.
Ashley, grappling with a pounding headache, had just finished her nightly routine and lay down when it hit her; Damian had been cursing her out.
From the moment they had met that day, tensions flared, and she had completely brushed off the matter even when Hayden had mentioned. She simply couldn't fathom why Damian, with all his dismissive contempt, sought any semblance of presence at her place so late at night.
Reflecting on Damian's condescending tone, Ashley nearly questioned her entire judgment. Perhaps she was reading too much into it, maybe Damian hadn't meant anything by it - perhaps it was just a coincidence, a spur-of-the-moment thing.
Fine by her; he'd stay out of her business, she'd stay professional, and once this lawsuit was over, they'd go their separate ways.
The following morning, Damian was rudely awakened by his phone.
Ever since that incident, his sleep had been scant, often not finding rest until the early hours of 3 a.m., only to be jolted awake by his damned internal clock at six or seven. On an odd occasion, like today, he could sleep in until around seven or eight - a rarity he'd been praying for.
With furrowed brows and in a foul mood, Damian thought if this call wasn't about something critical, he'd smash his phone to pieces.
"Speak," he snarled, his voice sharp enough to cleave the quiet of the morning.
Hayden was taken aback, "Whoa! Still not up yet?"
He had figured Damian would definitely be up for his morning workout by this hour. He never expected to catch him sleeping in.
Odd, quite odd.
Damian's voice was ice cold, "Spit it out."
"I had something to tell you, but now there's something more pressing. You only had one drink yesterday, how could you sleep till now? You taking meds again?"
Hayden knew about Damian's chronic insomnia and mild bouts of restlessness, which often required medication for relief.
Unfortunately, neuroscience wasn't his forte. He could give only so much advice which is why he had referred Damian to Jessica, though the treatments hadn't been notably effective, merely somewhat alleviating the issues.
Rubbing his temples, Damian's irritation didn't subside, "No, been off them for two weeks."
Damian had mainly been trying hypnotherapy, and maybe Jessica’s recent change in method was paying off.
Hayden chuckled, "Jessica has got some skills. You'll owe her big time if she cures you; maybe a house or something."
Damian was curt, "What do you want?"
All Hayden could do was dance around the subject.
"I got one piece of good news and one bad," said Hayden.
"The bad," Damian cut in, demanding the hard truth first.
Hayden wished he could slap himself for making Damian choose, "Well, I should probably start with the good news. Your grandfather's biopsy came back. It's not cancer."
Damian exhaled a slight sigh of relief but remained tense, "And?"
“Your grandpa is slipping into the shadows of dementia, stumbling through a fog where his memory and cognition were betraying him. Beginning as a gradual fade, incidents of the past slowly dissolve away, but as the condition worsens, it becomes a stark, abrupt forgetting of things just moments or an hour ago. Sleep becomes a time machine, waking up in a fragment of the past, and eventually, even the faces of loved ones would turn into unrecognizable masks.”
Damian held his phone, his eyes briefly losing focus to the void.
Just last week, his grandfather had collapsed suddenly and was rushed to the hospital for a battery of tests. By some luck, it wasn't cancer, but the diagnosis was no less heartbreaking.
Hayden spoke softly, "I spent so much time at your place as a kid, and your grandad treated me like one of his own. I won't lie, I'm just as upset by the news as you are. Don't panic; I'll get in touch with the top experts in Germany and we'll get him the care he needs."
"Let's keep this between us for now," Damian replied.
"You think I'd spill the beans? The prescription's ready. Tuck it into a calcium supplement bottle. One pill, twice a day, and make sure he takes them regularly."
"Any side effects?"
All medicines have their side effects, and prolonged use could inevitably take a toll on an elderly person's health.
"It could be hard on the liver and kidneys if used long-term. We'll figure out another plan," Hayden admitted.
He added a caution, "Try not to agitate him. Mood swings are the last thing he needs. You're known for being blunt, remember? Every day is precious to him now. If something's bothering you, keep it to yourself; do whatever it takes to avoid giving him stress."
Hayden was usually long-winded, but this time his words hit home for Damian.
Grandpa's years were numbered. Damian was not ready to face a world without the chance to honor his grandfather.
Damian scowled, "Just keep a tight lip on this, or you'll have me to answer to."
