Love in the ER

CHAPTER 31

The hospital was bustling with its usual activity, but Paris barely noticed as she walked down the hallway, deep in thought. She had been thinking about everything—Matteo's recent advances, the constant pressure from Denise, and the uncertainty surrounding the baby. It felt like no matter how hard she tried to focus on her relationship with Oliver, something or someone was always trying to tear them apart.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't see Denise walking toward her until it was too late.

They bumped shoulders lightly, and Paris instinctively took a step back, about to offer a polite apology, when she saw Denise's eyes light up with something dark—calculated.

Before Paris could react, Denise let out a loud gasp and dramatically threw herself backward, arms flailing as she "slipped" and fell to the floor with a thud.

"Ahhh!" Denise cried out, clutching her stomach in a panic, her voice trembling as she glared up at Paris with wide, tear-filled eyes. "You... you pushed me!"

Paris froze, her mouth falling open in shock as she took a step back, her heart racing. "What? No! I didn't push you!"

But before she could process what was happening, she heard the sound of hurried footsteps. Oliver was rushing toward them from the other end of the hallway, his expression one of sheer panic as he took in the scene before him.

"Denise!" Oliver called out, his eyes wide with concern as he reached them, dropping down beside Denise. "What happened? Are you okay?"

Denise let out a soft sob, her hand still resting protectively over her stomach as she looked up at Oliver with teary eyes. "Paris... she... she pushed me, Oliver." Her voice quivered, her face the picture of distress.

Paris stood frozen, her heart hammering in her chest as she stared at Denise in utter disbelief. WTF?! Did Denise seriously just lie—in front of Oliver—to frame her? She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"No, I didn't!" Paris exclaimed, her voice rising as she took a step forward, trying to explain. "I didn't touch her, Oliver! She's lying!"

Oliver's eyes darted between the two women, his brow furrowed in confusion. He looked down at Denise, who was still clutching her stomach, breathing heavily, her face pale. "Denise... are you sure?"

Denise nodded, fresh tears spilling from her eyes as she clung to Oliver's arm. "I... I don't know why she did it. I think she's angry... because of the baby..."

Paris's head spun, her heart racing with a mix of fury and disbelief. "That's not true!" she shot back, her voice filled with frustration. "Denise, stop lying! I didn't push you. I barely touched you, and you threw yourself on the floor!"

Oliver turned to Paris, his face a mixture of confusion and concern, but his voice was softer than before. "Paris, let's not jump to conclusions. Just... let me handle this."

"Handle what?" Paris exclaimed, feeling a surge of panic rise within her. "I didn't do anything! You can't seriously believe her, can you?"

Before Oliver could respond, a nearby nurse, having heard the commotion, rushed over to the scene.

"What's going on here?" the nurse asked, her gaze shifting between the three of them.

Denise wiped at her eyes, putting on a performance worthy of an award. "I slipped... and fell. But Paris... she pushed me..."

The nurse's eyes widened, immediately growing concerned for Denise and the baby. "Denise, you're pregnant. Let's get you checked out to make sure everything's okay."

Oliver nodded in agreement. "Yeah, we need to get you looked at." He helped Denise to her feet, his face still filled with worry.

Paris stood there, stunned and furious, her mind racing. This wasn't happening. Denise was faking the entire thing, and now Oliver was caught up in her web of lies. It felt like her whole world was spinning out of control.

"Oliver, you can't seriously believe this, right?" Paris asked again, her voice more desperate now as she watched him helping Denise toward the nurse.

Oliver glanced back at Paris, his face conflicted. "Paris, just let me take care of this for now, okay? I'll talk to you after."

Paris's heart sank at the dismissal in his voice. She wanted to scream, to shake some sense into him, to make him realize that Denise was manipulating him—but all she could do was stand there, watching as Oliver walked away with Denise.

As they disappeared down the hallway with the nurse, Paris stood frozen in place, her emotions swirling inside her—fury, disbelief, and fear. She couldn't let Denise get away with this. There was no way she was going to let this lie tear her and Oliver apart.

Later that evening after dinner, Paris couldn't get sleep she kept staring blankly at her phone. She had been waiting for Oliver to call, for him to finally realize what had happened and to hear her side of the story, but the phone remained silent.

Her mind replayed the moment over and over again—Denise's fake fall, her tearful accusation, and Oliver's panicked reaction. How had it come to this? She had thought things were finally settling down between her and Oliver, but now, it felt like everything was falling apart again.

Her phone suddenly buzzed, and her heart leaped. It was a message from Oliver.

"Denise is fine. The baby's okay, but she's really shaken up. We'll talk tomorrow."

Paris stared at the message, her heart sinking even further. He didn't sound angry, but he didn't sound entirely on her side either. It was clear that Denise's performance had gotten to him, and now she was stuck waiting, unsure of where she stood.

She let out a frustrated sigh, her mind racing with everything she wanted to say to him. But for now, all she could do was wait—and hope that when they talked, Oliver would finally see the truth.