In a society where social conventions often dictate the rules of love, a story of passion and resilience emerges.
This story introduces us to Jeremy Whitaker, 33, an attractive and peculiar security architect, who aims to treat his "burnout" and see...
The nightclub erupted into chaos as Jerry suddenly collapsed. Carol watched in horror as he fainted right in front of her. For a moment, she panicked, but then she rushed to his side. Jerry lay motionless, sweating and unresponsive to the noise. Carol pressed her ear to his chest and realized his heart was racing.
- Call an ambulance! - she shouted, concerned. A commotion rose as people crowded around to see the man sprawled on the ground.
Daniel approached Jerry, tears streaming down his face. - Wake up, man! Please, don't die here! - he yelled, hugging his friend. He had never seen anyone fainting on a dance floor, especially not someone as tall and well-built as Jerry, who seemed to radiate health. Yet, he don't.
Jerry remained still, showing no signs of life, his heartbeat relentless. Carol looked at him, frightened. She couldn't understand why she felt so scared... Jerry meant nothing to her. She had only met him that night and was dancing with him before she saw him on the floor. There were no prior bonds of affection to make her feel this way. Yet, there she was, desperate, leaning over him, talking to him in the vain hope of being heard. She was on the verge of tears... something she didn't like to do in public.
- Jeremy... wake up, please. - she whispered softly in his ear. But he didn't move, though his heart seemed to be pounding out of his chest. She feared he might be having a stroke or a heart attack. She was still in shock at the scene... a tall, masculine man who seemed the picture of health, now lying unconscious, drenched in sweat with a heartbeat like a speeding train. It didn't make sense... he must be hiding something. Maybe it was just her desperation speaking louder. But she needed to understand why this happened... it wasn't because she was so amazing that he fainted from pleasure. They were just dancing freely... almost frantically, she would say. Okay, she accidentally brushed against him because the dance floor was packed. But that wasn't enough to cause a heart attack. Was that really what happened? Did she accidentally kill him?
"Stop it, Carol! You have no reason to feel guilty... he's a stranger to you, nothing more."- the brain told her. Yes, that was the obvious choice... not to feel guilty for something she didn't cause. But her heart, that damn organ inside her that kept her alive, told her something else: "- You don't have to feel guilty... but he's a person who is alone and needs help. Don't turn your back on him." She decided to be caring and lean over him, trying to wake him up. She was sure she wouldn't win a humanitarian award for being there with him, but the next day she wouldn't feel remorse for leaving him to his fate.
Liam came up to her and hugged her, trying to calm her down: - Calm down, my love... they've already called the ambulance. It's not your fault, okay?
- Who said I feel guilty? - Carol asked, angrily.
- My love, I know you well enough to see that you feel guilty about what happened to this guy...
- Liam! He's not just a guy... he's a person. Just like you and me!
- Sorry. I didn't know he had an effect on you.
- I'd be just as worried if it were someone else, okay?! - Carol replied. She hated Liam's general arrogance towards people. And she didn't appreciate his disdain for Jerry.
- If you say so... my love. - Liam said, expressionlessly. He was also alarmed by the situation, but to panic over the giant American? Of course not!
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