CHAPTER 62

Alexander leaned against the wall outside the door, his head spinning and his vision wavering. The disorientation was more than emotional; he felt physically unsteady as if the ground beneath him was shifting. He gripped the wall tightly, trying to anchor himself. He heard Samantha's voice through the door, asking," What just happened?"

He barely maintained his balance when Theodore stepped outside the room and noticed Alexander's distress. Seeing his state, Theodore quickly moved to his side.

"Alexander, are you alright?" Theodore asked as he saw Alexander's pale complexion and unsteady stance.

Without waiting for a response, Theodore guided Alexander away from the door. "You should see a nurse," Theodore said firmly. "Come on, I'll help you."

Theodore supported Alexander with one arm around his shoulders; Theodore guided him down the hallway toward the nurses' station. Alexander leaned heavily on him, his steps uneven and slow. By the time they reached the nurses' station.

The nurse, whose name tag read "Rhem," quickly ushered Alexander into a nearby room and had him sit down. She began taking his blood pressure. Alexander's mind was still reeling, and he found it difficult to focus on her questions.

"Have you been feeling dizzy for long?" she asked, wrapping the cuff around his arm.

"Just… just started a few minutes ago," Alexander managed to say.

Rhem nodded, her brow furrowing as she watched the blood pressure monitor. "Your blood pressure is quite high," she noted. "Have you been under a lot of stress lately?"

Alexander let out a bitter chuckle. "You could say that."

Rhem glanced at him sympathetically. "And how's your sleep been? Have you been getting enough rest?"

Alexander shook his head. "Not much sleep. Too much going on."

Rhem sighed, noting down his vitals. "You're experiencing what we call hypertension, likely exacerbated by stress and lack of sleep. It's critical that we address this right away."

The second nurse nodded and left to gather the necessary supplies. Rhem returned her focus to Alexander, her expression softening. "We're going to start treatment to bring your blood pressure down. I also recommend some time away from the stressors, if that's possible. You need to prioritize your health right now."

Just as Rhem finished speaking, the second nurse returned with a hint of a smile. "Good news, Mr. Alfred," she said softly. "Your wife is awake now."

Alexander's eyes widened, and he immediately sat up straighter. "Margaret's awake?" he repeated, his voice filled with disbelief and hope.

"Yes, she just woke up a few minutes ago," the nurse confirmed.

Without a second thought, Alexander swung his legs over the side of the bed and began to rise. "I'll rest when I get home," he declared, determination replacing the fatigue in his eyes. He began removing the blood pressure cuff and IV from his arm.

Rhem stepped forward, her concern evident. "Mr. Alexander, please—"

But Alexander was already on his feet, his resolve unshakable. "I need to see her," he insisted. "I'll be fine. I promise I'll rest later."

Seeing the unwavering determination in his eyes, Rhem stepped aside, "At least let us monitor you closely while you're with her," she said. Still, Alexander was already heading for the door.

He moved quickly through the corridors, the earlier dizziness forgotten in the adrenaline rush, as he neared Margaret's room.

He pushed open the door, and she was sitting in bed, looking pale but very much awake. Her eyes met his, and everything else faded away at that moment.

Alexander rushed to her side, enveloping her tightly and kissing her forehead tenderly. Overwhelmed with emotion, he sank to his knees beside her bed, his hands trembling as he held hers.

"Margaret, I'm so sorry," he choked out, tears streaming down his face. "I take full responsibility for everything. I will never let you down again, I promise. Please forgive me."

Margaret looked at him, her eyes filled with sadness. She gently stroked his hair, her touch soothing his anguish. "Alexander," she whispered. "I am so happy I am alive and here with you."

As Alexander continued to pour his heartfelt apologies, the door quietly opened, and the doctor stepped in. Seeing the intimate, emotional scene before him, he paused.

"I'll come back later," the doctor said softly, backing out of the room to give them privacy.

Alexander stood up and called after him, "Doctor, please come in now."

The doctor nodded and re-entered the room, walking to Margaret's bedside. He checked her vitals and asked her a series of standard questions about her feelings. Margaret answered, her voice still shaky.

Finally, the doctor looked at Margaret with a gentle but severe expression. "Margaret, we'd like to perform a rape kit examination. In cases like yours, it's a standard procedure to ensure we have all the necessary information for your care and any legal proceedings."

Margaret's face went pale. She looked down, her hands trembling. Alexander immediately moved closer, wrapping his arms around her protectively. "Oh no, you're fine," he whispered reassuringly. He's just suggesting it because it's a standard procedure. You're safe now."

The doctor nodded, his tone soothing as he continued, "Margaret, the examination is entirely up to you. It's important for gathering evidence and ensuring your health, but if you don't want to go through with it, that's perfectly okay too. Your comfort and consent are our top priorities."

Margaret looked up at the doctor, her tears still threatening to spill over. She glanced at Alexander, her body beginning to shake. Seeing her distress, Alexander spoke up, his voice firm yet gentle. "Doctor, it's okay. She doesn't need to do it."

The doctor looked back at Margaret, who was now crying hard, clutching herself tightly. His expression softened with understanding. "Margaret," he said quietly, "I understand this is incredibly difficult. You've been through a lot. If you're not ready for this, that's completely fine."

Margaret nodded, her sobs making it hard for her to speak. Alexander held her tightly, trying to soothe her. The doctor continued, his voice calm and reassuring, "Given the trauma you've experienced, I would strongly advise seeing a therapist. They can help you process what you've been through and support you through your recovery."

Margaret managed a slight nod, still clinging to Alexander. The doctor added, "Therapy can be a crucial part of healing, and addressing any emotional and psychological impacts is important. Take your time, and remember that people are here to help you."

The doctor paused for a moment, assessing Margaret's condition. "You can take Margaret home now," he said gently. "Physically, she's stable enough to be discharged. Just make sure she gets plenty of rest and follow up with the recommended Therapy. It's crucial for her recovery."

Two weeks.

Two weeks later, Margaret headed to the kitchen. She heard the dishes clinking, signaling that Mrs. Ellen was already preparing breakfast.

So she joined.

When Margaret entered the kitchen, Mrs. Ellen looked up and smiled warmly. "Good morning, dear. I made your favorite breakfast," she said, gesturing to the spread of food on the table. Margaret smiled faintly and sat, her movements still a bit hesitant.

They began to eat in companionable silence. But as soon as Margaret put a forkful of food into her mouth, a wave of nausea overtook her. She clutched her stomach and quickly ran to the bathroom. Moments later, the sound of retching echoed back into the kitchen.

When Margaret returned, looking pale and shaken, Mrs. Ellen's face was a mix of concern and curiosity. "Oh, Margaret, are you alright?" she asked, her voice filled with worry and a hint of excitement. "when was the..." Before she could finish, Margaret interrupted.

Margaret sat back down, her hand resting on her stomach. "I don't know why this keeps happening. Ever since the kidnappers' incident, I've had trouble eating,"