Falling For Him Anyway

Chapter 13

Gwendolyn

I drove Evelyn to the hospital because she didn't have any gas in her car.

We had dropped Amir and his sister off at their grandmother's house.

Evelyn was out of the car and running towards the front doors of the place before I had unbuckled my seatbelt.

By the time I found she was screaming at some lady behind a big white desk.

"¿Dónde está mi Leo?" She pounded her fists on the glass that seperated her from the confused, terrified lady.

"Leo Pearson?" I asked the lady.

"You'll have to wait. He's still in surgery, but we do have a viewing window." She gestured toward a window at the far end of the hallway.

Evelyn ran to the window and peered through anxiously. I followed behind closely.

Evelyn put her hand over her mouth to muffle her sobs and I hugged her tighter as we watched them operate on Leo.

There was blood everywhere. Still we stood. Crying. Praying. For hours until some doctor came and told us that Leo was going to be OK.

Evelyn reluctantly left the hospital  and decided to sleep at my house.

In the morning when I awoke she was gone and Chase was by my side.

"Good boy." I said.

He whimpered when I got up but followed throughout the house, like a worried mother, nonetheless.

I left the house same as always. But weighed down by my thoughts.

I drove past Evelyn's house to make sure she was Ok.

The door was kicked in. Barely hanging onto the hinges. The windows were broken and Rose's highchair was in the front yard.

Her car wasn't in the driveway so I kept driving.

I tried calling her a few times and it went straight to voicemail. She was probably at the hospital.

I clocked in and made my way slowly to my office. Some people asked me where Evelyn was and if she was working today.

When I finally sat down in my swivel chair. None other than Mr.Wells entered my office.

He stood there for a while.

Maybe he forgot why he came in here?

"Can I help you?" I asked him.

He walked forward and placed my purse in front of me. "You left it in my car."

He seated himself on one of the couches, like usual, and started a conversation.

"I could rap if I wanted to." I told him.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Your vocal cords are bred for a different kind of music."

"Like what?" I asked.

"Slow songs. Sad songs. Songs that you can understand easily." He said.

"Prove it." I said.

"Sing for me." He suggested.

"Hell no. Next option." I said. I got up from my chair to sit on the couch opposite him.

"Why?" He asked.

"Because you're my boss and the application didn't say anything about singing." I replied.

"I wasn't your boss when I took you out to lunch." He pointed out.