Arata felt her heart slam into her ribs so hard it almost hurt.
"My… my family" she whispered, voice barely coming out.
Jamal didn't answer immediately. His jaw was tight, his posture rigid. The way he stared at the phone like whatever he had seen wasn't good made her knees weaken.
"Sit," he said quietly.
She obeyed, lowering herself into the chair opposite his desk, hands trembling in her lap. Her mind spun through every horrible possibility her father, her mother, the house, the debts, the loan sharks.
Please, God…
Jamal paced once behind his desk, trying to choose his words carefully. He stopped, exhaled slowly, and looked straight at her.
"It's your mother," he said. "She collapsed this morning."
Arata's breath caught in her throat.
Her vision blurred for a moment.
"What? How? Why?" she choked out, already standing again. "Is she… is she okay? Where is she?"
"She was rushed to the local clinic near your house," Jamal answered steadily. "Your neighbor called the emergency line on the contact form you filled out when you started work."
"My neighbor…" Arata whispered. "Bless her."
Her hands flew to her mouth, emotions spiraling like a storm. Guilt. Fear. Panic.
"I need to go… I need to go right now," she said, breath shaking as she reached for her bag.
Jamal moved toward her swiftly. "Stop."
She froze, startled.
His voice was firm, low, controlled but his eyes were soft. Too soft.
"Don't run out in this state," he said. "You're shaking."
"Because my mother is in the hospital!" Arata burst out, unable to hold back the wave inside her. "I have to go…"
"And you will," he said quickly. "But not alone."
She blinked.
"I'm coming with you."
Arata stared at him like she hadn't heard properly.
"You… You don't have to do that."
"I know," he replied simply. "But I'm still going with you."
She swallowed hard.
"Jamal, you're the CEO. You can't just leave…"
"I can when it matters."
Something broke open inside her chest.
He didn't say when it matters to you,
but she felt it anyway.
He grabbed his coat, issued quick instructions to his assistant through the intercom, and before Arata could process anything else, they were already walking to the private elevator.
The city blurred past the tinted windows as Jamal's driver sped through traffic with practiced efficiency.
Arata sat rigidly in the back seat, fingers twisted together so tightly they hurt. She tried to breathe normally, but her chest felt too tight, like her ribs were closing in.
Jamal watched her quietly for several seconds before he spoke.
"When did your mother start feeling unwell?"
Arata swallowed. "She's been under a lot of stress. My dad… everything with the loans… she hasn't been sleeping."
"And you didn't tell me," he said gently, not accusing just observing.
Arata closed her eyes. "I didn't want to burden anyone. I already feel like I'm failing them."
"Arata." His voice was steady. "You are holding your entire family together. That is not failure."
Her throat tightened.
She stared out the window, refusing to cry.
Not here. Not now.
But Jamal could see the sheen in her eyes, and it made something in his chest twist sharply.
He wasn't used to watching someone break quietly.
He wasn't used to wanting to reach out and gather someone in his arms.
He wasn't used to caring this much.
Without thinking, he reached across the seat and placed his hand over hers.
Warm. Solid. Grounding.
Arata's eyes widened, her breath catching as his thumb brushed her knuckles ever so gently barely noticeable, but unmistakably comforting.
She didn't pull away.
For a moment, the chaotic world outside disappeared.
Just his hand on hers, just his steady presence, just the silent promise, you're not alone anymore.
The car pulled up in front of the small community clinic old, crowded, and nothing compared to the elite hospitals Jamal was used to.
Arata jumped out immediately. Jamal followed closely behind her.
Inside, nurses hurried back and forth, the waiting area was packed, and the worn-out chairs looked barely functional.
Arata rushed to the reception desk. My mother Okafor. She was brought in this morning….
"Yes," the nurse said, flipping through a chart. "She's in Room 4B. She fainted due to stress and extremely high blood pressure."
Arata gasped.
Jamal's jaw clenched.
The nurse continued, We stabilized her, but she needs monitoring. Honestly, we're not fully equipped…
"We're transferring her," Jamal cut in sharply.
The nurse blinked up at him. Sir…?
"We're taking her to Crestview Medical Center," he said, voice firm with authority. "Call their emergency unit. Tell them I'm sending a patient."
"Yes, sir!"
Arata turned to him, stunned. "Jamal, that's the most expensive hospital in the city…
"And the best equipped," he said. "Your mother deserves the best care. No arguments."
Her lips trembled. "I… I don't know how to thank you."
"You don't need to," he said softly. "Let's go to her first."
They entered the small room.
Her mother lay on a thin mattress, eyes closed, an IV drip in her arm. Her skin looked pale, almost gray.
"Mom…" Arata whispered, rushing to her side.
Her mother stirred, eyes fluttering open slowly. When she saw Arata, she smiled weakly. "My baby…"
Tears slid silently down Arata's cheeks.
"I'm here, Mama," she whispered, holding her hand tightly. "I'm here."
Her mother's eyes drifted toward Jamal, standing quietly near the door, hands folded in front of him.
"And who is this tall, serious-looking man?" her mother asked faintly.
Arata froze.
Jamal stepped forward respectfully.
"I'm Jamal Yusuf, ma'am."
Her mother blinked. "Oh… your boss."
The twinkle in her tired eyes made Arata's heart squeeze painfully.
"You didn't tell me he was handsome," her mother mumbled.
"Mama!" Arata squeaked, mortified.
Even Jamal's lips twitched, the ghost of a smile threatening to appear.
But the moment faded quickly when her mother winced softly, turning pale again.
Jamal stepped closer.
"We're transferring you to a better hospital. You'll be well taken care of."
Her mother nodded slowly. "Thank you… may God bless you."
Jamal bowed his head slightly. "Amen."
Within minutes, an ambulance arrived, courtesy of Crestview Medical's emergency unit responding to Jamal's call personally.
Arata sat inside with her mother while Jamal rode in the front passenger seat.
As the siren wailed and the vehicle sped through traffic, Arata's thoughts spiraled.
Everything was happening too fast.
Too suddenly, too emotionally.
Her mother…
Her debts…
Her job…
Her feelings…
And Jamal.
Especially Jamal.
She looked toward the front of the ambulance.
He was watching her through the small glass window his expression unreadable, but his eyes fixed on her like he couldn't look away.
Arata felt a strange, deep warmth spread through her chest.
Was this real?
Was this the same man who intimidated the entire company just by walking down a hallway?
Why was he the one here?
Why did he care this much?
And why did she feel… safe with him?
The hospital was bright, modern, and almost intimidating in its luxury. Doctors rushed to assist the moment they saw Jamal.
Her mother was immediately taken in for tests.
Arata paced anxiously in the private waiting room, running her hands through her braids, trying not to cry again.
Jamal walked in quietly.
"She's stable," he said softly. "The doctors are running a full evaluation. They'll come speak with you soon."
Arata nodded, tears filling her eyes again. "Thank you… for everything."
Jamal hesitated, then stepped closer, slowly, as though approaching a frightened bird.
When he reached her, he lifted a hand…
paused…
then gently touched her shoulder.
Just a touch.
But it felt like an anchor.
Like permission to breathe again.
"You don't have to be strong right now," he said quietly. "Not with me."
Her chest cracked open.
The tears she'd been holding back finally fell, silent, heavy drops.
Jamal didn't pull her into his arms.
He didn't cross the line completely.
But he stayed close.
Close enough for her to hear his breathing.
Close enough to feel the warmth radiating off him.
Close enough to know that if she leaned in… he wouldn't stop her.
They stood there in shared silence.
Not boss and employee.
Not billionaire and assistant.
Just two people… caught in something neither of them fully understood yet.
And then…
The doctor walked in.
"Miss Okafor?"
Arata turned sharply, heart racing.
"Yes?"
"We have the test results. And we need to talk."
She felt Jamal tense beside her.
The doctor continued.
"There's something we found… something we need to address immediately."
Arata's stomach dropped.
"Wha… what is it?" she whispered.
The doctor sighed.
"Your mother's condition is more serious than we thought."