The medical procedure was straightforward enough, yet John was far from feeling relieved. Minor wounds dressed and bandaged, he still lay in the hospital bed, overwhelmed by waves of pain and confusion. Why the rush to discharge him? It felt wrong.
Just then, the ward door swung open, and Soraya entered, a nurse by her side. The sight that met her eyes was shocking—her husband, bandaged and bruised all over. A heart-wrenching eye contact sent tears streaming down her cheeks.
"My love! What crime did you commit to deserve all this?" Soraya's voice pierced the quietness of the ward, breaking the stillness like glass shattering on the floor.
The nurse quickly stepped in, trying to comfort her, but it took a while for Soraya to regain her composure. Moving closer, she perched on the edge of the bed and tenderly kissed John's cheek.
"My husband, if you get through this, you must change your ways," she whispered softly, her voice a blend of affection and desperation. A heavy silence fell between them as they locked eyes, filled with unspoken words. John felt a wave of guilt wash over him; he had betrayed not just Soraya, but their entire family.
"I've warned you time and again to redirect your life, but it seems my words fell on deaf ears," she continued, her voice steady but filled with emotion. "You're a family man now. You have responsibilities." This time, John found himself at a loss for words, the weight of his situation pinning him to the bed.
"Now you're silent? Do you want to leave us behind? Is it your wish for our child to grow up without a father?" Soraya's words cut deep, striking a chord he could no longer ignore. The thought of his young family living without him was a bitter pill to swallow.
John, desperate to shift away from this unbearable conversation, stretched his body and feigned a groan of pain, hoping to divert her attention.
"What is it, my love? Where's the pain?" Soraya asked, her motherly instincts kicking in as she reached out, her fingers gently brushing his chest.
Just then, the doctor entered, interrupting the tense moment. He handed Soraya a discharge form, which she helped John fill out. With a quick stamp, the doctor confirmed their release, and with that, he left the room.
As the door clicked shut behind him, Soraya's mind raced. Why were they hurrying him out when he was still so weak? Stranded in uncertainty, she turned to John.
"My husband, let's go home. Tomorrow, I'll take you to Baraton Hospital where you'll receive the care you really need," she assured, trying to inject hope into the gloomy atmosphere.
They began to strategize their way home. Feeling the urgency of the situation, John called one of their former family bodyguards, instructing him to retrieve a vehicle from their residence. The bodyguard promised to come quickly. They sat together in silence, waiting for him—two hearts bound by love but threatened by the harsh realities of life.
Not long after, a sleek white Prado pulled up at the facility, and moments later, John and his wife, Soraya, were ready to leave. It was at that moment the hospital staff realized they had misjudged the man before them. Overlooked and denied the comprehensive care he deserved, John had been treated as if his humble appearance—blue jeans, a blood-stained white t-shirt, and worn rubber shoes—meant he couldn't afford quality treatment.
As the bodyguard—solidly built and imposing—entered the ward, he carefully scooped John up and carried him to the car. John had a back, a kind of comfortable support, to help him sit properly during the ride, while Soraya took her place in the front seat beside the driver.
Just as they were about to leave, the attending doctor strode over, his expression earnest. With a hint of frustration, he urged them to reconsider, insisting that they didn't know John's true capacity to pay. He reluctantly shared stories of past patients they had treated, only to end up bearing the financial burden when those individuals were unable to afford proper medication after recovery.
Upset, John waved his hand dismissively, ordering the driver to leave. The hospital staff stood stunned as the Prado drove away, a mixture of confusion and anxiety washing over them. They didn't know who John truly was and feared the potential fallout from this situation in the eyes of the public.
Once home, Soraya turned to the bodyguard and requested he stay close by, just in case John's condition took a turn for the worse. That evening, she prepared a sumptuous dinner, featuring all of John's favorite dishes, and despite everything, he savored each bite. As the night wore on, they all retreated to bed early. The bodyguard was given a room just next to the couple's, a close proximity that would soon take an unexpected turn.
As darkness enveloped the house, the bodyguard heard soft footsteps echoing through the quiet. With his door slightly ajar, the shadows crept closer, and he assumed it was Soraya. When she appeared, it didn't take long for the whispers to confirm her identity.
"Hey, it's me. Just checking to see if you're comfortable," she whispered softly.
"I'm comfortable," he replied, his voice low but steady. Yet beneath that calm facade, a storm of confusion churned within him. Why was Soraya slipping into his room at this hour? The intimacy of their rooms being so close suddenly felt like a setup for trouble.
Taking a seat beside him, Soraya emanated a warmth that was both inviting and haunting. When the bodyguard flicked on the light, he blinked in surprise at the sight before him—she wore a sheer, short nightdress that sent his heart racing. Instinctively, he sprang from the bed and retreated to the sitting room, sinking into a chair to put some distance between them and quell the temptation pulling at him. Instead, he became absorbed in his phone, desperately searching for a distraction from the unsettling encounter.
This bodyguard had been the epitome of loyalty for years, but now he found himself teetering on the edge of a precarious situation. Just imagine the chaos that could ensue from even the slightest mistake—messing with a military man's wife could end his life. With everything hanging in the balance, he resolved to play it cool, pretending this was just another night to maintain a peaceful working environment.