Sub Rosa Ties ( A High School Dark Romance)

Gerard

I hastily parked my car in front of the hospital, still clad in my jersey, phone clutched tightly in one hand. Without a moment's hesitation, I dashed out of the car and sprinted towards the entrance of the hospital.

Our hospital.

My mind was a jumble of thoughts, and I couldn't seem to think straight. The call from my dad's personal assistant about my mom's accident had come right after I dropped off Zera at her house.

I rushed here as fast as I could, the urgency of the situation overriding any semblance of coherence in my thoughts.

"Gerard," Simpson, my dad's personal assistant, called out as soon as I entered the hospital. He was still dressed in his usual office attire, suggesting he had come directly from work.

He quickly ended the call he was on as I approached him.

"How is she?" I asked urgently, my eyes scanning the area around the theater entrance just a few steps away from me.

"She's currently undergoing surgery, so we'll have to wait a bit," his voice remained calm, as usual.

"What..." I exhaled, running a hand over my face in an attempt to calm my nerves. My senses had gone haywire when I received his call. "What the hell happened?" I finished, my eyes piercing his.

"She was driving back from the mall when a truck collided with her car. Her driver's still out cold too; they're both in surgery. Everything's gonna be okay, don't worry..."

"Where's he?" I cut him off, and he instantly understood who I meant.
He immediately dodged my gaze, his eyes dropping to the ground.

My attention caught the white strands starting to peek through his otherwise dark hair. "He's still at the office. He'll be here before midnight," he whispered, and I clenched my fists tightly, striding past him to take a seat.

My father was one of the most neglectful husbands you could imagine. I've never seen anything matter to him besides his crazy company. Sometimes, he makes me want to tear it apart and ensure it never exists again.

Simpson took a few steps towards me before halting. "Seems like you've just come from school. Why don't you go home, freshen up, and co..."

"I'll wait," I growled, squeezing my hands tightly on my thigh and lowering my head toward the ground.

"You can't keep doing this, Gerard. You need to come back home to us, to me. You're the only one I have. What if something happens to you?" Her words echoed in my mind, and I shut my eyes tightly, my breathing becoming erratic and my heart racing.

"And the truck driver?" I shot my eyes up to Simpson. "What happened to the truck driver?"

"He fled from the scene. I have called the...." I tuned out the rest of what he said and shut my eyes again, returning my gaze to the floor.

Tonight was supposed to be one of my best nights yet, with what happened with Zera and how she willingly gave herself to me.

I would've taken things even further if a car hadn't honked behind mine and interrupted us. Now, I had to deal with a call that completely ruined my mood.

Even though I wanted to pretend I didn't care, I couldn't. Not when the woman who brought me into this world and granted me the chance to live is in there fighting for her life.

My mother.

♡♡♡

It was past 2 am when the doctor emerged and conveyed the outcome to us. I felt a surge of relief at the news of the successful procedure.

However, the relief quickly dissipated when I learned that she was unconscious and there was uncertainty about when she would regain consciousness.

"I think you should get some rest, Gerard. You haven't slept, and you have school tomor..."

"I'm fine," I cut him off.

"Mr. Callon won't be happy if he sees you here. It's my job to..."

"It's your damn job to stick to being a personal assistant and stop meddling with my sleep schedule, alright?"I lashed out at him. "I'm not leaving until my mother wakes up, so if you have a problem with that, you might want to leave, Simpson. And I don't give a damn about what my father will say or do." My chest heaved, and I was sure my hair made me look like a maniac with how many times I had gripped and tugged at it.

It wasn't Simpson's fault; he was only trying to be helpful. But it kept getting on my nerves for no reason. The fact that I couldn't progress things further with Zera tonight, my mother was still unconscious, and my father was nowhere to be found except in his office kept fueling my rage.

Simpson only gave me a silent gaze, and I let out a deep breath before finding my hair and clutching it once more.

"I'll get some medication for you," he said quickly and left before I could reply.

He was right. I needed some medication to calm my nerves before I lost my composure and tore everything around me apart.

Two hours later, I was on the verge of falling apart when I spotted the familiar figure dressed in a suit, hurrying toward us as if he'd just lost a bet.

"How is my wife?" his voice echoed as he approached Simpson, who quickly stood up and answered him. I remained silent, refusing to look up at him.

"I'm sorry, Son. I came here as soon as I could. Work and meetings were..."

"Work?" I scoffed, raising my head to meet his gaze. He wore the usual fake apologetic expression on his face, the one that grated on my nerves every damn time. "You sat comfortably in your pointless meetings at midnight while your wife was here fighting for her life? Are you even listening to yourself, Father?"

Simpson immediately picked up on the signal of the impending argument and excused himself.

"Gerard, you know I will never prioritize work over you and your...," Dad tried to reason, but it sounded absurd to me.

"You already did, father!" I sprang up from my seat, my voice booming. "Not just once or twice, but repeatedly, and there's no going back. I tried to understand, I really did, that running a big company like yours was tough. But as I got older, I figured out how to manage my time and put things in order. And you? You're awful at that when it comes to your family." My words burst out of me before I could rein them in.

He stayed silent, his gaze fixed on me, knowing I must have hit a nerve. The same one my mom couldn't find the courage to speak about.

"You have no right to come in here and pretend to be a caring husband or father because I know you're not. So cut the crap with the apologies every time because it only makes everything worse."

I didn't wait for him to reply before I strode past him to find a bathroom. I entered and closed the door behind me.

Turning on the tap at the sink, I splashed some water on my face and clenched my jaw. My face was devoid of emotion, and my eyes held a fierce intensity as I stared back at my reflection in the mirror.

Suddenly, I felt exhausted and overwhelmed, longing to see just one person.Someone I could lean on and confide in, letting out all the emotions I had bottled up inside.

But I doubted if she would listen. I wasn't even sure if I could consider what happened between us tonight as significant anymore. It meant so much to me, but I doubted if it meant as much to her as it did to me.