I was already leaving when someone knocked on the door just as I was about to open it. My eyes met the amber eyes of that man who drives me completely crazy just by being near him.
Now, he’s here in my living room, with that totally serious and sexy look on his face, even though he’s not trying to be. I couldn’t help but smell the good scent of his masculine perfume that wafted through the rooms of my house. The black leather jacket fit perfectly on his beautiful muscular body, making him even more attractive.
"I need you to accept, please. Since you didn’t want to stay at my residence of your own free will, at least agree to work with me. I'll pay you a good salary."
"I can’t, I’m sorry," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Why not?" Khalil insisted, his expression of frustration clear.
"Please don’t insist," I said, walking to the door and opening it. "Now go," I asked.
I couldn’t accept. I was starting to develop a feeling that shouldn’t exist for Khalil, but he had a woman of his own to marry. I couldn’t take the risk. I would travel and raise my child alone, away from him. He didn’t need to know.
"Did what we went through mean nothing to you? I'm offering you a luxurious life, an opportunity to have a decent job. Not that what you had wasn't decent, but you wouldn't be working with heavy things. And on top of that, you'd be with me and..."
"We’d have a few flings in your office? I don’t need to live like this, Khalil. Don't you get it? Now go, please, get out of my house, or will I be forced to call the police?"
He gave me a calm smile.
"All right, no need to go that far. I’m leaving."
Khalil gave one last look, full of conflicting emotions, before walking out the door. When he left, I felt a mixture of relief and sadness. I locked the door behind him, feeling determined to move forward with my plan. I would travel and raise my son far from any complications Khalil might bring.
Inside me, however, a small knot of doubt and regret began to form. Was I really doing the right thing by taking my son’s father away? Would life be simpler this way? These questions echoed in my mind as I prepared to leave, trying to convince myself that I was doing what was best for me and my baby.
I grabbed my suitcase and left the house, calling a taxi that took me straight to the airport. I checked in and sat in the chair, waiting for my flight to Europe, which was due to leave in half an hour.
I picked up one of the magazines from the wooden table and started flipping through it while I ate some cookies. Suddenly, my cell phone started ringing in my purse. An unknown number flashed on the screen. I slid my finger across the screen to answer.
"Hello?"
"Valeria?"
I immediately recognized Khalil’s voice. My heart skipped a beat. I looked around, feeling a mixture of nervousness and surprise.
But there was something strange. His voice was suppressed and trembling. The woman began to announce the flights that were leaving, and one of them was mine.
"Khalil, I have to go. Talk to you later," I said, almost hanging up.
"I need you, don't hang up. I...had an accident and I'm hurt." I heard the sounds of sirens, and I quickly panicked. "Valeria..." he whispered with difficulty. "I need you, at this moment only you came to mind, you're not going to leave me here, are you?"
"Where are you?" I asked, grabbing my things and leaving the airport to get a taxi.
The call dropped at that moment, and I couldn’t get the address. Again, I received a call from another different number.
"Ready," I said, waving to a passing taxi.
"Miss Valeria?" An unknown voice asked. "I'm a nurse for Mr. Khalil Al-Hassan. He is at Al Razi Hospital, in the emergency room."
"I’m on my way," I responded quickly, getting into the taxi and giving the driver the address.
My heart was pounding as the taxi sped through the streets. Khalil was hurt, and I couldn’t think of anything but getting to the hospital as soon as possible. The journey seemed endless, and every second that passed increased my anxiety.
Finally, we arrived at the hospital. I hastily paid the driver and ran inside, heading for the front desk.
"Khalil, please," I said urgently.
"Are you a relative of Mr. Al-Hassan Khalil?" She looked me up and down.
"I wouldn't say relative, I'm his personal secretary, and the person he called a few seconds ago."
Then the receptionist did a quick check on the computer and pointed me to the emergency room. I followed the instructions looking for the room number she gave me.
My heart almost stopped when I saw Khalil lying in a bed covered with a white cotton sheet. He was completely still and the immaculate white sheets set off his pale skin. Even from the doorway, I could see the dried blood in his black hair.
Seeing Khalil, seemingly indestructible, looking so helpless made me have to stop myself from running quickly to the bed and stroking his cheek with my fingers. I needed to stay calm. I walked calmly to the bed.
Khalil’s eyes were closed. He looked vulnerable at that moment.
To think that everything happened so fast, you can’t imagine that he is now in a hospital bed. He just left my house, he was safe and sound, now I find him here, so dejected.
"Khalil!" I exclaimed as soon as I reached him.
He opened his eyes and tried to smile, but the pain was evident on his face.
"Valeria… you came…" he murmured, his voice weak.
"Of course I came. What happened?" I asked, taking his hand.
"When I left your house, a truck came with its high beams on and hit my car," Khalil explained with difficulty, his eyes fixed on mine, his breathing heavy.
It wasn't heavy because he was feeling something, but because whenever we’re close to each other, everything in our body seems to signal that we’re so close.
"I'm so sorry," I said, squeezing his hand tighter.
"Don't worry, I'm not going to die," he joked, putting his hand to his stomach, he was certainly in pain.
"Don't move, stay still, I'll call the doctor," I warned, getting up to leave.
Khalil held my hand.
"Don't go," he said, pulling me to sit beside him on the bed, and so I did.
"What can I do to help you?"
"Accept what I proposed to you, be my personal secretary," he asked, leaving me speechless.
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