His name was Nathaniel

40

Nathaniel stood frozen in the middle of the empty restaurant, the weight of Adaliya's words crashing down on him like an avalanche. He had prepared himself for the possibility that she'd be angry, maybe even resentful, but the reality of seeing her walk out of his life again was a blow he hadn't anticipated. His breath came in ragged gasps, his heart pounding so loudly in his chest that it drowned out everything else.

His body trembled, unable to process the overwhelming flood of emotions. Anger. Guilt. Shame. And, above all, the hollow ache of regret. She had left him once again, and this time, it was his fault entirely.

"Sir," one of his security guards called out from the doorway, his voice thick with concern. But Nathaniel couldn't respond, couldn't move. His chest tightened, and the room began to blur around the edges.

"Sir!" The voice came closer now, urgent.

He tried to breathe, but his lungs refused to cooperate. His legs gave way beneath him, and before he hit the ground, his guards were there, catching him just in time.

"Sir, stay with us!" one of the guards shouted as they carefully laid him on the ground. "He's not breathing right. We need to get him to a hospital, now!"

Nathaniel heard the words as if from underwater, but his body felt detached, numb. Panic surged through him, but his energy was drained, the stress of the past few days wreaking havoc on his fragile health. The guards supported him, each holding onto one of his arms, while the restaurant staff scrambled to call for medical help.

"No... hospital," Nathaniel gasped, his voice weak and strained.

"Sir, you need medical attention," one of the guards insisted. "This isn't up for debate."

Nathaniel tried to argue, but his body was too weak to fight back. Within minutes, an ambulance arrived, and despite his feeble protests, the paramedics lifted him onto a stretcher and rushed him to the nearest hospital.

---

The bright fluorescent lights of the emergency room flickered overhead as Nathaniel lay on the hospital bed, surrounded by medical staff. The beeping of the machines was steady, but each beep felt like a countdown, ticking away at his control.

"Nathaniel, you need to relax," one of the nurses urged as they monitored his vitals. "You've had a severe stress-induced episode. We're going to run some tests to make sure everything's all right."

Nathaniel's mind swirled in chaos, but it wasn't the hospital or the medics that had his attention-it was Adaliya. The way she'd looked at him, the pain in her voice. He had caused that. He had broken her, and now... now he had lost her again.

Suddenly, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed in the hallway outside the room, and moments later, Nathaniel's grandfather, Victor Donovan, strode in. The older man's usual calm and collected demeanor had vanished, replaced by deep concern.

"What happened?" His grandfather asked, his voice gruff, demanding answers as he approached the bed. His eyes scanned over Nathaniel's pale face, taking in his grandson's weakened state.

Nathaniel didn't respond, staring blankly at the ceiling. He couldn't muster the strength to speak. The weight of it all pressed on him-his mistakes, the missed chances, the years of silence. And now, Adaliya's departure.

Victor glanced at the medical staff, who explained the situation-Nathaniel had suffered from an acute stress reaction, brought on by emotional and physical strain. While his condition wasn't life-threatening, they would need to monitor him closely due to his existing health concerns.

Satisfied with the medical explanation but still deeply concerned, Victor dismissed the staff with a nod. Once they left the room, he sat down in the chair beside Nathaniel's bed.

"Nathaniel," his grandfather's voice softened. "What happened?"

For the first time, Nathaniel turned his head to look at him, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. But the weight of everything he had bottled up for years made it impossible to speak. How could he explain what had happened? How could he explain that he'd lost the only person he ever loved?

"Nathaniel," his grandfather pressed gently, sensing his grandson's hesitation. "I've seen you like this before. You've been holding this weight on your shoulders for too long. Whatever it is, you need to let it out."

Still, Nathaniel said nothing.

Victor sighed deeply, his brow furrowing with frustration and worry. "You're going to kill yourself if you keep this up. I won't let you destroy yourself over some... woman."

At those words, something inside Nathaniel snapped. He sat up slightly, wincing at the pain in his chest, and finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's not just 'some woman,' Grandfather. It's Adaliya."

The name fell from his lips like a confession, heavy and burdened with years of silence.

Victor's eyes narrowed in confusion. "Adaliya? That's the name of the artist who made that painting, isn't it?"

Nathaniel nodded slowly. "She's not just some artist. She's... the girl I left behind. Four years ago."

His grandfather leaned back in his chair, absorbing this new information. "So that's why you were so desperate to buy the painting," Victor mused, realization dawning on him. "This is about her."

Nathaniel nodded again, his voice weak. "I didn't leave her by choice. I thought I was doing the right thing... protecting her. But I ruined everything."

For a moment, Victor said nothing. He'd always prided himself on being able to read Nathaniel well, but he hadn't realized the depth of the boy's attachment to this woman. He'd seen the distance in Nathaniel's eyes for years, the longing he tried to hide. Now, it all made sense.

"And today?" His grandfather asked, his voice soft but probing.

"She hates me," Nathaniel choked out, his voice breaking. "I saw her today, and she wouldn't even hear me out. She walked out... just like that."

Victor sighed deeply. "Women can be unpredictable, especially when they've been hurt. But if you love her-truly love her-you can't give up, Nathaniel. Donovans don't quit. Not on her, not on yourself."

Nathaniel dropped his head back onto the pillow, his body trembling with exhaustion and emotion. "I've already done too much damage. I don't deserve her."

Victor stood up, placing a hand on Nathaniel's shoulder. "That's not for you to decide. You still have a chance to make things right. If she means that much to you, don't let her slip away again."

For a long moment, Nathaniel didn't speak, letting his grandfather's words sink in. His chest still hurt, but the ache of losing Adaliya once again was worse than any physical pain.

As his Grandfather, turned to leave the room, Nathaniel finally spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll fix it. I have to try."

Victor stopped at the door and gave a small nod. "Good."