MEET TO PART

THREE

MR WRONG

**Roselle's POV**

In the aftermath of the accident, amidst my own losses, there was solace in knowing I had assisted the woman. My motivation stemmed from preventing others from enduring the same misery I've endured. If only fate had intervened for my mother like it did for those rescued by the bodyguard, maybe she'd still be here, and I'd have met the family she spoke of – my father and brother. Life's cruelty seemed boundless. Daddy Paddy became my sole family, and I vowed to dedicate myself to him entirely, but without a means of income, fulfilling that promise felt daunting.

Recalling the ungrateful boy who took advantage of my kindness stung. I desperately needed money, yet that situation...

My gaze fell upon my father, motionless for the past three days. Tears flowed as silent sobs racked my body. I lost track of time until a familiar husky voice broke through my despair.

"Miss Anderson?" His footsteps drew near, and I turned to see Mr. Adams Jr. It had been months since I encountered the arrogant jerk. I couldn't hold back the tears. He embraced me, and I surrendered to my emotions.

For so long, I'd portrayed an unyielding facade. Only Daddy Paddy understood my vulnerability. But today was different. I'd been strong for far too long. Despite the reassuring pats on my back, tears continued to cascade down, staining Mr. Adams' designer suit. Eventually, he lifted my head and handed me his kerchief. His eyes were gentle, revealing a side of him rarely seen. He was genuinely kind when he chose to be.

The words "I'm sorry" lingered on my tongue. I wasn't accustomed to apologizing, nor receiving apologies. Feeling embarrassed, I bowed my head, pushing myself to utter those unfamiliar words.

Mr. Adams Jr.'s arrival was accompanied by his usual sarcasm, kicking off with his classic jab: "Miss Anderson, is it that you're a shabby person or you're coincidentally shabby whenever we meet?"

I internally thanked the heavens for not apologizing to this mad dog. His visible grin only fueled my temper as I stood up from the bed, emitting a snarl. Surprisingly, he burst into genuine laughter, a side of him I hadn't witnessed before, momentarily disarming my anger. Yet, focusing on his mockery was more important than finding his sudden humor endearing.

"If you've carved out time from your 'busy' schedule to come here and mock me," I retorted, rolling up my sleeve to reveal my slender, muscular arm, chin held high, "you're in for some beating, KID."

Observing his struggle to contain both laughter and anger, his expression shifted to seriousness, hinting at something related to his mother. My attention heightened, hoping my suspicions were wrong. Nervously, I sat down, locking eyes with him, awaiting his next words.

"My mum... she's..." He paused, nodding in confirmation, triggering an outpour of tears. Emotions surged like a child witnessing life slipping away from its mother. "I'm so sorry. I should have been quicker; it's all my fault," he confessed amidst tears, his grief palpable. His anguish echoed my perpetual sense of loss since my mother's demise.

"I know how you must be feeling now," I confessed, meeting Mr. Adams' strange gaze. But in an instant, he transformed into a laughing hyena, provoking me further. His mockery escalated, questioning my choice to major in Law – a spark that ignited a fire.

With clenched teeth and a fervent attempt to hold myself together, I pushed hard on his shoulders. "While I still have patience and respect for you, GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!"

My anger, a familiar fear to me, became evident as Mr. Adams hastily exited the room, having witnessed a glimpse of how scared I could become when enraged. What a pointless display of sympathy that turned out to be.

**Roswell's  POV**

My heart raced as I approached her father's hospital room, grappling with a mix of anxiety and regret. The sterile hospital air seemed to intensify my inner turmoil, making the weight of my past interactions with Roselle feel even heavier. As I stepped in, I noticed her crying by her father's bedside. I couldn't bear the sight, so I left.

I briskly approached the hospital's reception, mind racing with a mix of urgency and determination. "Excuse me," I said, trying to keep my tone composed, "I need information about a patient, Patrick Spencer. How is he doing?"

The receptionist, typing away on the computer, looked up and provided the needed details about Patrick's critical condition. "Mr. Spencer is in need of urgent surgery, but unfortunately, the funds for the procedure are currently insufficient."

A sense of responsibility gripped me. "Tell me the cost of the surgery. I want to cover it."

As the receptionist relayed the amount, I nodded decisively. "Get everything ready for the surgery. I'll take care of the expenses. It's important to me that Mr. Spencer receives the best care possible."

As the paperwork commenced, I couldn't shake the gravity of the situation. "Please, make sure everything is expedited. Time is crucial here."

The receptionist, impressed by my sincerity, responded, "We'll do our best, sir. Your generosity will make a significant difference."

A short while later, with the financial matters sorted, I returned to the reception area, my eyes scanning the room for any sign of Roselle. "Miss Anderson," I began, my voice softened with genuine concern.

I knew it, she was crying again. I immediately embraced her as she pour out her built up pains. This is what happens when you act strong for too long, I was tempted to say but I was not in for any more consolatory act. " Miss Anderson, is it that you're a shabby person or you're just coincidentally happy when we meet" I could see her tear stained face fueling up with anger. This is my best therapy. I chuckled within me

As I navigated the city streets, Roselle's unpredictable emotions echoed in my mind. Her ability to shift moods surpassed even my own expertise in mood swings. I pondered the complexity of her character as I headed back to the office, intrigued by the enigma she presented. My assistant John, I left him to handle all the other settlement with Roselle, her meeting with my mother and stuff.

I was surprised to see Kimberly in my company's reception. Immediately I stepped in, she was all on me. I had to find a way to chase her away; she was too clingy. The receptionist later informed me of the scene she created. I'll have to teach that girl a little lesson.

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