Chapter 15 Helping hand
Amrah
Edison walked ahead of us along the hospital hallway, his broad figure easily paving the way through the small clusters of visitors and staff as Daphy and I followed.
"Third floor," Edison said over his shoulder, pressing the elevator button.
My stomach twisted.
How was Zayd? What was the situation at the moment? Daphy doesn't know as well, so I could only wonder anxiously.
The image of him hurt and bleeding made my chest go tight. I pressed my hand against my chest, willing my heart to calm down.
"You okay?" Daphy touched my elbow, her voice soft with concern.
"I am fine” I lied
“I'm worried too. Having a family is such a blessing, but he is hurt and no one is with him”
My heart couldn't be more broken than it was.
The elevator dinged, and we stepped inside. When we reached the ward, Edison pushed open the door, and my breath caught.
There he was.
Zayd sat propped up against pillows, his right arm secured in a sling around his neck. White bandages wrapped around both hands like oversized mittens.
A purple bruise was across his left cheek, stark against his tan skin. He looked battered, vulnerable in a way I had never seen him before.
Thank God it wasn't as fatal as I had been picturing along the way here. The most serious was his broken right arm.
But somehow, he was still beautiful. His dark eyes found mine immediately, and despite everything, a small smile tugged at his pale lips and a shallow dimple appeared on his cheeks.
My heart slammed against my ribs. ‘Not now, please’ I told it firmly.
‘We're here to check on him, not to think about last night.’
Last night.
God.
My face heated at the memory of his mouth on mine, his hands tangled in my hair, and his hand in my shorts. We had been so reckless, so desperate for each other.
And now he was here, broken and bandaged, and I wanted to simultaneously cry and kiss him again.
Amrah!
"Hey," Zayd said, his voice slightly hoarse.
"Hi." I moved closer, hyperaware of the three other patients in the ward.
An elderly man snored in the bed by the window. A middle-aged woman scrolled through her phone, her leg elevated in a cast. A younger guy, maybe early twenties, watched us with undisguised curiosity.
I hated this. The lack of privacy, the way anyone could see Zayd at his most vulnerable. The fluorescent lights were too harsh, the curtain between beds too thin.
"How are you feeling?" Daphy asked, beating me to the question.
Zayd shrugged with his good shoulder. "Like I ran into a tree."
"That's not funny," I said, sharper than I intended.
His smile faded. "Sorry. Pain medication makes me say stupid things."
The elderly man in the corner let out a particularly loud snore, and the woman with the cast laughed at something on her phone.
I glanced around the cramped ward, my jaw tightening.
This wouldn't do. This absolutely wouldn't do.
I caught Edison's eye and tilted my head toward the door. He understood immediately that I needed privacy, he was that efficient.
That's why Father had assigned him to me.
Edison stepped closer, bending down so I could whisper in his ear.
"Get him moved to a private ward. Make it happen quickly but discreetly."
He nodded once and slipped out without a word.
"Where's Edison going?" Daphy asked.
“He's just... checking on something."
Daphy settled into the chair beside the bed, crossing her legs. "So what exactly happened? The details were pretty vague."
"I was testing a new bike and the brake failed" He gave a short and simple reply.
“Were you speeding? Of course, you were” I asked and answered myself.
"Yeah." Zayd's expression was relaxed, amused in fact.
“Of course, he was.” Daphy eyes him.
“You…! Why would you risk your life like that? Testing a bike?”
“That is one of their final year projects,” Daphy explained.
Rage flared hot in my chest as I thought about how he had risked his life and put himself in this awful shared ward with its thin curtains and nosy neighbors.
"I'm so sorry," I added quietly on realising that I had overreacted
"Not your fault." His eyes softened.
“I'm just glad you came."
"Of course I came," I said, then immediately worried that sounded too eager.
“We both did." Daphy nudged me playfully.
“Yeah yeah” I chuckled to cover my nervousness. Zayd was being so casual, unlike me. I couldn't stop thinking about what we did…
“I have to go guys” Daphy’s urgent voice cut through my thoughts.
Well, I just wanted to make sure you weren't dying or anything. Since you're clearly not, I should probably head out.” Daphy explained and stood up.
"Oh, right" I nodded, remembering she had to go home.
"Yeah," She had a light frown on her face as her phone pinged again.
“When are you coming back?” I asked.
“As soon as I can,”
“Okay, take care”
Daphy stood, squeezing Zayd's good shoulder roughly.
"Take care of yourself, man. You gave Amy a scare”
"Noted” he shrugged her hand off him.
After Daphy left, the silence felt heavier. More charged.
Last night hung between us like a living thing, impossible to ignore.
"Amrah," Zayd started.
"I should get you some food," I interrupted, desperate to avoid whatever conversation was coming.
“You must be starving. Hospital food is terrible. I'll send Edison to get something good."
I pulled out my phone, shooting off a quick text to Edison: ‘Get food for us, please’
The response came almost immediately: ‘Already handled. Also, a private ward was arranged. Moving him in two minutes.’
Relief and something else—something warm and dangerous—flooded through me.
"There," I said, tucking my phone away. "Food's coming."
Zayd watched me with those too-knowing eyes. "I wanted to thank you for coming."
"Huh? Oh… you are welcome" I replied feeling my cheek heating up.
Just then, Edison walked in with a male nurse in pale blue scrubs.
“Young Mistress,” Edison said with his usual professional tone. “The arrangements are complete.”
The nurse—tall, probably in his thirties, with kind eyes—approached Zayd’s bed with a wheelchair.
“Mr. Zayd Rayyan? We’re transferring you to a private room on the fifth floor.”
Zayd’s eyebrow raised lazily. “Private room? I didn’t request—”
“The hospital reassessed your case,” the nurse said smoothly, and I had to admire Edison’s handiwork.
“Given the extent of your injuries, they feel you’d recover better with more privacy and quiet.”
“That’s… unexpected,” Zayd said, his eyes sliding to me with unmistakable suspicion.
I nodded with a serious expression “How fortunate. This ward is rather crowded.”
The guy in the adjacent bed scoffed audibly, and the woman with the cast looked up from her phone, clearly miffed by the implication.
“I mean… ” I scrambled to recover, feeling my cheeks heating up in embarrassment.
“You didn't have to do this” Zayd said quietly, the tenderness in his eyes couldn't be mistaken.
I think I'm going insane!