His name was Nathaniel

53

A few days had passed since Adaliya boarded Nathaniel's private jet and flew back home, but she still hadn't responded to his text message. Nathaniel had sent a simple note asking if she was doing okay and thanking her again for the weekend, but there had been nothing in return. No reply, no indication that she had even read the message.

The silence gnawed at him. Every time he glanced at his phone, he felt a growing pit in his stomach. He hated waiting, hated the uncertainty of it all. His thoughts kept circling back to her—what she was thinking, whether she was considering his offer, or if she was just trying to move on.

In an attempt to distract himself, Nathaniel threw himself into work. He had always been able to rely on his responsibilities to take his mind off personal matters, but this time, even work couldn't fully pull his thoughts away from Adaliya. Still, he tried. He worked late into the night, ignoring the texts and calls from colleagues and family, claiming he was "too busy" to attend social functions or even go out for meals.

It wasn't the healthiest coping mechanism, but it was the only thing keeping him from driving himself crazy with worry. Day after day, he buried himself in reports, meetings, and conference calls, his mind numb with the constant pressure of his job. He even started working overtime, pushing his body harder than usual, thinking that if he exhausted himself enough, he wouldn't have the energy to think about her.

One day, after an especially grueling meeting, Nathaniel realized he hadn't eaten all day. His stomach had been growling for hours, but he had been too preoccupied to notice. A sharp pain radiated from his gut as he sat at his desk, staring blankly at his computer screen. He rubbed his eyes, his vision blurring slightly, and decided he needed to at least grab a quick bite before his next meeting.

He stood up, feeling a wave of dizziness wash over him as he pushed his chair back. The room spun for a moment, but he brushed it off, telling himself it was just from working too hard. He grabbed his briefcase and made his way toward the stairs, thinking he could quickly dash to the café downstairs for a sandwich or something simple.

But as he descended the stairs, his legs gave way beneath him. The world tilted sharply, and before he knew it, he was tumbling down, pain shooting through his body as he hit each step on the way down. He tried to catch himself, but his head was spinning too much to focus. By the time he reached the bottom, a sharp, searing pain shot through his ankle, and his vision blackened.

When he woke up, he was in a hospital bed, the harsh, sterile lights above making his head pound. His ankle was throbbing, and when he looked down, he saw it was wrapped in a thick cast. He groaned, trying to sit up, but the pain in his head and ankle kept him still.

"About time you woke up," a familiar voice grumbled from the corner of the room.

Nathaniel turned his head to see his grandfather, Victor, sitting in a chair, his arms crossed and his expression a mix of anger and concern.

"Grandfather..." Nathaniel croaked, his voice hoarse.

"What were you thinking, Nathaniel?" Victor snapped, standing up and walking over to his bedside. "Working yourself to the point of exhaustion, not eating, and then practically throwing yourself down a flight of stairs? What the hell is wrong with you?"

Nathaniel winced at his tone, but he knew Victor wasn't wrong. He had been reckless, pushing himself far beyond what was reasonable. "I... I just lost track of time," he muttered, feeling weak and embarrassed.

Victor shook his head, his brow furrowed in frustration. "Lost track of time? That's your excuse? Nathaniel, you're smarter than this. You know better than to neglect your health like this."

Nathaniel didn't respond. He didn't have a good excuse, and he knew it. He had been so consumed by his thoughts of Adaliya that he had let everything else fall by the wayside. Now, he was paying the price.

Victor let out a heavy sigh and sat down on the edge of the bed. His expression softened, though his voice still carried a note of irritation. "You can't keep doing this, Nathaniel. I know you've been under a lot of stress lately, but this is not the way to handle it."

Nathaniel stared up at the ceiling, his thoughts once again drifting to Adaliya. He wanted to explain to his grandfather why he had been so distracted, but he wasn't sure how to put it into words. How could he explain that the silence from her was eating away at him? That he had tried to focus on work but failed miserably?

After a moment, Victor spoke again, his voice gentler this time. "Is this about that woman? The one you told me about?"

Nathaniel's throat tightened. He nodded silently, not trusting his voice to speak.

Victor sighed again, though this time it was less out of frustration and more out of understanding. "Nathaniel, I get it. You care about her. But you can't let this destroy you. She'll respond when she's ready, and if she doesn't, well... then you'll have to deal with that when the time comes."

Nathaniel clenched his fists under the blanket, his frustration bubbling up. "I just don't know what to do. I don't want to lose her again, but I don't want to push her either. I'm stuck, and it's driving me insane."

Victor patted his shoulder, his touch surprisingly comforting. "Give it time. And in the meantime, take care of yourself. You're no good to anyone if you're laid up in a hospital bed, injured because you 'forgot' to eat."

Nathaniel managed a small, humorless laugh. "I guess you're right."

Victor nodded, standing up and heading for the door. "Get some rest. I'll have the doctors check in on you later. And next time, try not to give me a heart attack."

As his grandfather left, Nathaniel lay back in the bed, his mind still racing. He knew Victor was right, but that didn't make the situation any easier. He reached for his phone, wondering if maybe—just maybe—there would be a message from Adaliya waiting for him.

But there wasn't.

With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes, willing himself to stop thinking about her for just a little while. But even in the quiet of the hospital room, her face remained at the forefront of his thoughts.