Chapter 168 Arrived in Europe
Matilda stumbled and hobbled all the way to the medical research institute.
Nason happened to be there. Seeing her limping frantically toward him, he hurried over to greet her. But she rushed right past him like he didn't exist, heading straight for Prof. Morales's lab.
She burst through the door with a bang.
Prof. Morales looked up. In all his observations of her, she'd never been the rash type. What on earth was going on?
"Prof. Morales, please—" She was breathless, almost gasping. "That VIP patient you mentioned, the one you're consulting on—what's his name?"
Prof. Morales saw tears already streaming down her face.
"That's confidential information. I can't disclose it," he said carefully.
"Is his name Wentworth? If it is, then... then he's my husband."
Prof. Morales hesitated. Yes, the patient was indeed named Wentworth. Her husband?
By all rights, if she were immediate family, she should have been notified. So why, during all his consultations, had he only seen the patient's mother?
"He really is your husband?" Prof. Morales asked.
Matilda was openly crying now. "If his name is Wentworth, then yes, he's my husband. Prof. Morales, please—which room is he in?"
Nason had followed her in and heard everything. "Let me check for you," he said.
He had connections at TrustCare Hospital. He could find out. A few quick calls later, he looked at Matilda with sympathy.
"What? What is it?" she asked.
"He transferred hospitals. Last night."
"Do they know where?"
"Not sure. Let me see if I can track down his flight information," Nason said.
Matilda couldn't stop the tears. She'd always thought of herself as composed, but hearing that Wentworth was injured had shattered that composure completely.
Prof. Morales said he was badly hurt. Couldn't see, couldn't hear, his legs were injured, neurological damage, severe pain... Just thinking about it made her chest ache as if she'd been wounded herself.
No wonder she'd been feeling that tightness in her chest all this time. She'd gone for tests and found nothing wrong. Maybe this was what Carol had meant about couples having a spiritual connection.
Fighting back her grief, she called Charles and explained everything.
Charles had just finished dealing with problems at the overseas branch and finally had a moment to breathe. Now hearing this, he couldn't help his anger. "How could Mom be so foolish?"
He said he'd find out where Wentworth had gone.
...
Charles had broader connections. His people quickly tracked down the flight information—a morning departure, destination Europe.
When Nason heard Charles had already found the information, he looked a bit put out. "Ask him to find out which specific hospital," he told Matilda.
But Charles couldn't determine that. Amelia had spent years in Europe building relationships across various power circles—even more extensive than Charles's network. If she'd secretly contacted a private hospital, it would be nearly impossible to know which one.
Still, Charles tried to reassure Matilda. "Don't worry. I'll find Wentworth, I promise."
Matilda broke down crying. She had to go find him. Wherever Wentworth was, she wanted to be near him.
Seeing that Matilda planned to go abroad, Nason asked, "Do you even know what you need to leave the country?"
"Passport and visa."
"Passport's easy. Visa is harder. Forget it—I'll help you apply for one."
Matilda was beyond caring about details. She just wanted to find Wentworth as soon as possible.
She also requested leave from the hospital. She was still in training, and normally they wouldn't approve it, but her reason was a family emergency—her husband. The hospital told her to just end her training early. Once she'd dealt with her personal situation, she could return directly to her original hospital.
It was a shame to cut it short, but she agreed without hesitation.
Nason went with her to handle the passport and visa applications. When the visa came through, he couldn't help scolding her.
"Can you please take care of yourself for once?"
Matilda looked at him, confused. "What do you mean? I am taking care of myself."
She hadn't been eating or sleeping well the past few days, but otherwise she'd been fine.
Nason pointed at her leg. "If you don't rest that leg, it's going to be permanently damaged. Then what—you're going to fight for Wentworth on a crippled leg?"
Matilda knew her leg had been hurting. She'd been running around nonstop without proper rest. But thinking of Wentworth in so much more pain, her own discomfort felt like nothing.
Finally it was time to leave. She didn't return to Phoenix City—she'd fly directly from Majestic City. All she had with her was the single suitcase she'd brought originally.
Nason took her to the airport. When it was time to board, he followed her to the gate.
"Aren't you going back?" Matilda asked.
"I'm not comfortable letting you go alone. I bought a ticket on the same flight," Nason said.
"That's not necessary. You have your own work to do. Once I'm there, I'll meet up with Charles. He'll arrange my accommodations," Matilda protested.
"You trust Charles? He's his mother's son. Right now his mother is the one keeping you from Wentworth. Who do you think is really on your side here?"
"Charles wouldn't do that to me. I'm sure of it."
"Well, we'll see when we get there. I just can't let you travel alone in your condition. You've never been abroad before, have you?"
She hadn't.
Nason took her suitcase. "Come on, Miss Cripple."
He arranged for an airport cart, and ground staff drove Matilda directly to the plane. He'd booked first class so she could sleep comfortably all the way to their destination.
But Matilda couldn't sleep. After takeoff, she just stared out the window. Where was Wentworth right now?
...
Wentworth knew he'd been transferred to another hospital. Though he couldn't hear or see, he knew he'd been on a plane for over ten hours.
He was curious. He'd been recovering well—why transfer him? Was medical care better abroad?
After those long hours, he felt himself being carried off the plane, then placed in a vehicle. He smelled gasoline, the salt of the sea. But that gardenia scent was still there, so he lay back, reassured.
Later, he felt himself settled into a wheelchair and taken somewhere near the ocean. Sea breeze washed over his face. The gardenia fragrance remained strong behind him. That hand was still there.
He took the hand in his. Whether or not she could hear him, whether or not he was actually making sound, he spoke anyway. "Matty, I'm going to get better. I promise you. Please believe in me."
The hand trembled, then squeezed his tightly.
...
Matilda's flight landed. Charles and Zoey were there to meet her.
Seeing Nason with her, Charles looked puzzled. He knew Nason—young, capable, but sometimes ruthless in business.
"Mr. Gonzaga, Matty injured her leg. I escorted her here," Nason explained.
Seeing Matilda's bandaged calf, Charles didn't question it further.
"Charles, have you found anything? Do you know where Wentworth is?" Matilda asked.