The CEO's Match

Desperate Search

Alexander's pov

As the workday wound down, I found myself unable to shake the unsettling feeling that had settled in my gut. It had been hours since I last tried to reach Nova. The messages I'd left were met with silence, and my calls went unanswered. The nagging worry only grew stronger with each passing minute. Something wasn't right.

I decided to drive over to her apartment, hoping I'd find her safe and sound. The drive was tense, each stoplight and turn feeling like an eternity. When I arrived, I parked quickly and headed to her door, knocking with increasing urgency.

"Nova!" I called out, banging on the door. "Nova, it's Alexander. Open up!"

No response came. I knocked louder, my fists hitting the door with force. Still, there was no answer. Panic began to claw at me. I tried calling her phone again, but it went straight to voicemail. I had to act.

With growing desperation, I forced my shoulder against the door and pushed. The lock gave way with a sharp crack, and I stumbled into her darkened apartment. The silence inside was deafening. My heart raced as I stepped into the entryway, scanning the room for any sign of her.

"Nova!" I shouted, my voice echoing through the empty space. I moved quickly through the living room, searching for her. The place was disheveled, papers scattered across the floor, and her phone lay abandoned, the screen cracked from a fall.

The sense of urgency drove me on. I dashed towards her bedroom, my breath quickening as I pushed open the door. The room was eerily still, the only sound the soft hum of the heater struggling to fight the cold.

There, in the middle of the room, I saw her slumped on the floor beside her desk. Her face was pale, and her breathing was shallow. Relief and horror flooded through me. I rushed to her side, kneeling beside her and checking for any signs of consciousness.

"Nova, can you hear me?" I asked, shaking her gently. There was no response, only the faint rise and fall of her chest. I grabbed my phone and dialed emergency services, my hands shaking as I relayed the address and the situation.

While waiting for the paramedics, I did my best to keep her comfortable. I noticed empty medication bottles scattered around her desk, realizing with growing concern that she had likely overdosed. Guilt gnawed at me as I thought about how I might have contributed to this situation.

The sound of sirens approached, and the paramedics arrived swiftly. They took over, carefully assessing her condition and preparing her for transport. I stayed close, watching as they worked, feeling a wave of helplessness and regret wash over me.

Once they had taken her to the hospital, I stood outside her apartment, the cold air biting at my skin. I realized how much I had taken Nova for granted, how her departure had left a void that I had only now begun to understand. I had pushed her too hard, and now she was paying the price.

As I stood alone, waiting for news of her condition, I vowed to make things right. If there was any chance to undo the damage I'd caused, I would seize it. For now, all I could do was hope and wait.

The hospital waiting room felt like a purgatory. Each ticking second on the wall clock seemed to stretch into an eternity. I paced back and forth, the hard plastic chairs and sterile white walls offering no comfort. The only sounds were the occasional beep of hospital equipment and the hushed conversations of other anxious visitors.

Since the paramedics had brought Nova in, I hadn't left the hospital. I had given my information to the front desk and been told to wait while the doctors assessed her condition. They assured me she was stable for now, but the seriousness of her situation left me in a state of constant anxiety.

I replayed the events over and over in my mind: the missed calls, the unanswered messages, and my desperate attempts to get into her apartment. The guilt of not acting sooner weighed heavily on me. If only I had noticed the signs earlier or had been more persistent in my efforts to reach her.

Finally, a doctor appeared, his expression professional but sympathetic. He approached me, and I stood up, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Mr. Blackwood?" he asked.

"Yes, how is she?" I asked urgently.

"She's stable now," the doctor said, "but she was severely dehydrated and had an overdose of medication. We're running tests to determine the full extent of the effects and to ensure there's no lasting damage."

I exhaled slowly, trying to absorb the information. "When can I see her?"

"The patient will need to remain under observation for a while," the doctor explained. "You can see her later once she's fully stabilized and we have a clearer picture of her recovery."

I nodded, though my frustration at being unable to see her was palpable. I thanked the doctor and took a seat, feeling the weight of the past few days pressing heavily on me. I couldn't shake the image of Nova lying unconscious, her condition a result of my actions and decisions.

My phone buzzed with messages, but I ignored them, my focus solely on Nova's well-being. I kept my mind occupied by thinking of ways to make amends, to ensure this never happened again. The guilt of firing her and not being there when she needed support was a burden I knew I had to face.

As the hours dragged on, I tried to reach out to her friends and family, hoping to get any additional information about her. I wanted them to know that I was genuinely concerned, even if my actions had caused her harm.

Eventually, the waiting room began to empty as night fell. I remained, hoping to catch any updates about Nova's condition. The quiet of the hospital became almost suffocating, and I was left alone with my thoughts.

I glanced at the door to the ICU, feeling a pang of helplessness. I wanted to be there for her, to make sure she knew she wasn't alone, even if it was my actions that had led to this point. I had to wait, but I vowed that once she was awake, I would do everything in my power to make things right and to ensure she knew how deeply I regretted my actions.

For now, all I could do was wait and hope that she would pull through and that I could find a way to repair the damage I had done.