My Broken Billionaire

Chapter 18: Unintentional

Nikolas POV

As soon as Isabella hesitantly toddles out of the ward, I release a shaky breath that I didn't realise I was holding. What had I just done? Why was rejection the only thing I could offer to her? My Bells was just caring for me, looking out for me, and all I did was turn her down. I could sense the concern in her eyes, body language and words. Maybe it was all too overwhelming for me to handle. To know that somebody cares about me. Bells is a caring, cautious, loving and confident person, and all she wanted to do was give me some of her loving friendship and I tossed it away like unwanted junk.

Bells is unrecognisably fragile, and I bet you she is not going to talk to me by giving me the silent treatment. Then again, she may want to talk this out if she felt strongly about her and I's friendship, or whatever we may have between us. Bells is that determined person that would get straight to the point when she is eager about something. So hopefully she acts like this in our soon to be 'awkward' situation. You shouldn't have rejected her, Taptiklis. If you didn't do this in the first place, then you wouldn't be in this muddled mess. My conscience is annoyingly in the right like most of the time, so my only option is to agree with it.

Should I call Bells? Or do I sound too desperate? Wouldn't she be pleased if I am desperate? The larger bubble is the fact that Bells and I are both unaware of the bond we have. I'm starting to think that we are in a dating relationship, although the both of the dates we went on were forced, we still formed a gradual friendship. I remember when I first saw her in the office, flawlessy walking to me, her soft skin glowing, but I knew she wasn't a flirty one because she didn't sneak any glances at me. That's how I knew Bells was different...a beautiful different.

" Mr. Taptiklis? Would you like to be notified about why you are here? " A middle-aged looking doctor, mocha skin and slick black hair that is cropped. He makes his way towards me, adjusting his tie while gripping onto his plastic clipboard. " Yes, please....and have you seen a girl? Isabella Williamson? She left my room about five odd minutes ago." The doctor's tight smile seems as if it is about to stretch the skin on his face. His eyes divert to the ceiling in a thinking manner, trying to recall my question and the answer to it. " Mr. Taptiklis, sorry, but I haven't seen her, she may have gone home. Anyway, let's digress to the problem of you being in the hospital."

" You woke up with a temperature, and you were burning up. Your girlfriend told me that....you turned away from her and she noticed that something was wrong. A psychiatrist came in and asked your girlfriend about any stress, and she didn't tell him much, meaning you just have a serious high temperature." The doctor smiles at me and leaves hastily, probably feeling the thick vibe wafting in the air. The vibe caused by the tension that still remains after my unnecessary blast at Bells. I won't say my Bells because she probably feels a ball of developing hatred towards me now. Especially after I commanded her to leave my room....

I didn't want any of this to turn out like this, none of it, but this whole plan has taken its own path and has been led further on, away from the original idea I had. Why doesn't my ideas ever go to plan? Especially when they possess so much hope and positivity? Maybe it's because you have a wrecked up life. My conscience cuts into the conversation I am having with my brain. Maybe it's because you are on this world, and you don't deserve to be......No, that couldn't be it, even though I know that I am not worth anything, it doesn't mean that it is always the answer. Doesn't it?

My hand shifts to the bed-side table, resisting the urge to call her, eventually my hand falls to the side of my bed, exhausted from fighting a non-physical thing. My heart is pushing me to call her, but ny mind's thoughts contradict my heart's answer. " Just f*cking call her." An exasperated sigh follows shortly after the little scold I punished myself with. What am I going to say, though? Should I just call her and tell her that I didn't mean it? Bells wouldn't give in so easily though, she's quite stubborn. .....Call.....her.....

My sweaty long fingers skim the leather case of my iPhone 6+, considering the temptation of grabbing the phone and spilling my heart out to the woman my heart....feels strongly about. I don't even want to hear her voice because it will make me realise how beautiful she is, and that she will never like me, although my feelings for her are anonymous, but obvious. My heart is urging me to tell her about the brewing feeling inside of me, but my conscience contradicts with it, telling me that our chances might be lost in an instant.

Before I know it, I hear almost inaudible cries, why is Bells crying? Who did this to her? I swear I am going to kill the person who did this to her. " Bells? Isabella? What happened? Baby, tell me what's wrong or I am coming to your house." My voice lowers a few decibels just as it always does when I am angry or in a negative mood. Bells realises that I am serious by my tone of voice, so she manages to release a few strangled words, " N-Nick....help. P-Please...." Her voice is dripping with a helpless combinatiom of desperation and pain. All I need is her call of help, and my whole body is speeding with an energetic emotion.

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" N-Nick...." Her bruised and battered fragile fingers trail up the skin on my hand, the warmth of her fingers igniting my heart. My hand lifts to caress her cheek softly, and at the moment, this affection I am comforting her with is from my heart. From the deepest areas of my heart. Amd it's all for her. For my Bells.

" Isabella, shhh....calm down. You're okay, Bells, don't you worry." My muscular arms blanket her in comfort and care, holding her as if she is the only person that is in the world. The only person I care for. Yes, I do care for Bells in some way, but my mind doesn't know what type of care I possess for her. " What happened? Was it your....father? "  Her moistured, yet dazzling eyes hold so much vulnerability, like an abandoned kitten. It causes my heart to melt. " Y-Yes...Nick."  More sobs shake her fragile body as she lays helplessy in my embrace.

My hand shifts down towards her long legs. Bells is the most beautiful woman I have seen, she is nowhere near on the same track as the plastic Barbie dolls that used to apply for the secretary job. They always used to dress in a revealing way, attempting to grab my attention, and it always failed. I either fired them or ruined their family's reputation, and soon enough they all cam gushing for forgiveness. But Bells isn't like that, although she desperately needs someone in her life, she doesn't flirt with me and seduce me. Bells is the definition of a beautiful woman. A true woman. Not those fake ones you find at a night club, the ones that intoxicate themselves with drugs, then take advantage of you.

" Bells, first of all.....let me apologise about earlier..."  Her bloodshot eyes glare at mine, trying to remember what happened, but tossing it to the side as to say, 'the past is in the past.' This is another great thing about Bells, her forgiveness is always sincere, not just a word or two, but pure forgiveness from her purified heart. There are so many great qualities that Bells possesses, her heart and mind is overfilled with those incredible qualities, and that's why my Bells is marvellous. Yours? My conscience questions curiously, trying to dig out my honest feelings for Bells. My conscience will most likely succeed.

Because I may like my Bells....

#Ash

☆ M.B.B ☆