Chapter 16 Unlucky in Love

True enough. The moment I stepped out of the building, a huge crowd of reporters swarmed at me asking nonsense questions.

What can you say about being accused as the reason behind Thomas Dawson & Jessica’s divorce?

“What?”

How long have you been working here?

How did you and Thomas Dawson met?

What were you doing in Europe?

I don’t know what to do nor to say. Reporters were pushing me with their mics, as I try to get away from them. Their faces slowly morphed into monsters and I began to feel like crying, trying my best to get out of this sea of hideous faces. But one reporter knocked me off losing my footing and I came stumbling on the ground under the miserable heat of the sun.

Please say something. What are you and Thomas Dawson doing in Europe?

No one dared to help me get up but instead, hundreds of microphones were in front of me like I am interrogated for committing a crime. I tried to hide my face from the cameras as flashes of lightning blinded me from getting my way out of here. I remained on the ground and they all are still asking questions like bees on their way to sting their prey. But one man helped me on my feet and cloth was covered over me, leading my way out of the crowd.

“She is not giving a single statement. Stay the hell out of our way or I’ll sue you all for this. Can’t you see she is already hurt? Get out of my way!”

The reporters miraculously cleared the way while James dragged me out of the company’s perimeter, away from the reporters' prying eyes. I am still in shock don’t know what to say when I felt a sting on my knee and saw a scrape with blood dripping from it.

“James.”

He never answered but dragged me more to the nearest coffee shop where I gained a few stares and gasp from the state I am in. Disheveled hair with a coat over my head, limping from my wound on my knee, and not long enough I realized my sleeve was torn halfway revealing my bare shoulder.

Embarrassment is painted on my face as James settled me on one of the chairs and peeled off the coat from my head and slung it over my shoulder.

“Cover yourself. I’ll get some medicine for your scrapes.”

Hard, serious voice coming from James as he strutted his way out of the coffee shop.

A male waiter poured a glass of water for me. I never even dared to say ‘Thank you afraid on how these people will reveal how they feel about my messy state.

A few minutes had passed, James appeared carrying a plastic bag of bad aid and some ointments.

He stared at me heaving a sigh, shaking his head in disapproval. He never said a word and sat in front of me with his arms on his knees, thinking and evaluating what happened.

“Show me your hands.”

I slowly revealed my hands that is now full of dust and some scrapes on my elbows. He is glaring at me but his eyes are full of pity and understanding. He shook his head when I wiped my tears and nose with the back of my hand.

“Don’t—“

“Why are you smiling?” I asked croaking like a frog with tears brimming on my eyes like a child.

“My gosh Beets. You’re really messy. Your hands are dirty with dust and you just wiped it on your face. Now you look like you just fell face down on the ground. Come here.”

He scooted closer to me wiping my face with his hands and some wet wipes he got from the drug store. He is so gentle, focused on my cheeks and this is the first time I saw James’ face up close. Dangerously close to my liking and I am afraid to breathe.

“Oops.” He muttered with a smile on his face.

“What? Why?”

“I just wiped your eyebrows.”

“You prick! That’s my natural brows.”

“Oh, is it? Good for you.” He is smiling still focused on wiping my whole face. I don’t know what got into me but I know my limbs are still intact but I refused to wipe my face myself.

“Thank you.”

He is stared at me for the longest time with his eyes communicating but instead of saying a word, he just smiled at me and proceeds to tend my wounded knee.

“Be careful next time, okay? Don’t hesitate to call me if you need help, Betty. I’m serious.”

“Okay.”

He stared at me one last time before applying the ointment to my knee. We remained in the restaurant waiting for the situation to dissipate.

“Please don’t tell Mr. Dawson about this.”

“Even if I tell him or not, there’s no way he would not know about what happened. Mr. Dawson has his eyes in almost everything.”

Sadness washed over me just by thinking of Mr. Dawson being faced with a pile of problems. I don’t want to add to it. He already has an ample amount of problems in the office and there’s no way I will let him think on mine.

“I don’t want him to worry about my problems.”

“Betty, you will not be in this situation if it’s not because of him.” James said calmly fumbling on the glass of water in front of us.

“Just let him realize that sometimes his decisions suck and he is a selfish man. I already told him to stay away from you.” Words came to a whisper and anger is evident in his eyes. James is the sweetest man I know and it’s the first time I have seen this angry.

We arrived at my apartment past seven in the evening. The streets glimmer by the lights of the apartments that lined up the curb. Waving goodbye to James and muttered a thank you for driving me home and tending my wounded self. I saw his car revved through the night and I am left all alone in the apartment’s main gate. Feeling unlucky until the end of the day, the elevator is still under maintenance, leaving me with no choice but to take the stairs. I nearly cry in annoyance as I stared at the long flight of stairs above me. If it isn’t because of the beautiful view of the 10th floor, I wouldn’t trade my muscles from this apartment's deadly steps.

“One more floor to go, Betty.” Tired heart, cluttered brain, and numb feet welcomed me as I arrived at my apartment building. Thankfully James and I had some light dinner before leaving the coffee shop, so I don’t have to cook for myself tonight. I got rid of my makeup and hopped in the shower, changed into something comfortable and I’m ready to call it a night.

But before I fell into a deep slumber, Elizabeth sent me a screenshot of some of the conversation regarding the article I saw this morning. My heart clenched at the sight of it.

She is not even that beautiful. What made Thomas go out to someone like her?

Women these days. I bet she’s just after Thomas’ money.

Blah blah blah… And then the comment goes on and on.

I should probably go and see a doctor, I wonder why my tear ducts haven’t run out of tears yet from crying for straight two nights.

“Hello?” I croaked and I am not ashamed of letting the other person hear that I am crying. Elizabeth sigh on the other end of the line and say sorry for making me feel bad by sending the conversation thread.

“It’s alright, Liz. No need to say sorry. I have all the right to know all this.”

“You sure, you’re okay? Want me to go there? Send me the address, I’ll be there.”

“No, I’m okay. We still have a lot of things to do tomorrow. Good night.”

“Good night, Betty.” Worry can be heard from her voice and I can’t blame the woman. The receptionist must be the sponge of all criticism and compliments every caller gives. I bet she received a lot of calls from reporters and news agencies to have my statement about the issue.

Feeling a bit sleepy and exhausted from the hustle this morning, I felt my eyes heavy and I am starting to doze off into sleep. Not long enough I hear someone ringing the doorbell. Who would want to visit someone in the middle of the night?

I slowly got on my feet and took a look at the intercom and found a guy in his mid-forties standing in front of my door. I haven’t seen this guy ever since.

“Who are you?”

“Are you Ms. Betty Hernandez?” asked the man smiling through the intercom creepily.

“I’m asking you who are you? What are you doing here?”

“I just want to ask a few questions. Can you let me come in?”

What do you think I am? I am not letting this man come in. No one knows what he will do to me.

“I don’t know you. Go away…”

The man didn’t budge but stood firmly on his ground with his head bowed down. Then he started to pound on my door making me jerk from where I was standing. Chills ran down to my body and my head feels like it’s going to burst.

“What are you doing?”

“Let me come in. I just want to talk with you.”

Pounding, kicking and he started to act weird with the sly smile on his face, I began to feel threatened by how he looks at me through the intercom.

“I will call the police. If you will not stop pounding on my door.” I shouted at him and I can hear him laugh. The pounding continues and I was left with no choice but to call 911 for help.

“What do you want?”

“I know you know Thomas Dawson. The man who took away all my money. I will kill both of you!” The pounding came aggressively with him shouting with muffled noises.

The man started to pound on the glass wall design beside the door and that was when I started to panic. My hands are shaking as I dialed 911.

"Hello? Someone is breaking into my apartment. Please come and help me." My tears came flowing as I dictate my address.

Thankfully, the man gave up when he can't break the glass and instead, staring at me through the glass wall.

Thirty minutes passed and already heard policemen shouting at the man at my door. One policeman knocked on my door that I instantly opened for questioning. If I know this guy, what’s my connection with him, and if it’s the first time I have seen him.

I was shaking when I was being interrogated by the police. A few moments had passed, three reporters spotted me at my doorstep begging to ask for my statement regarding the issue and about what happened tonight.

“Ma’am you’re not allowed to enter this perimeter.” The policeman said shoving the reporters out of the way. They were settled at the corridor where they started to air their episode and updated the whole nation about the information they got from the policemen.

“Ms. Hernandez.”

My head snapped in the direction of the voice and saw Mr. Dawson with Miller and Bill behind him in defensive mode.

“What the hell happened here?”

One of the policemen explained everything to him and I can tell he is frustrated as I am by the way he is clutching his fists and ticking his muscle on his jaw.

“What’s your relation to Ms. Hernandez, sir?”

“I’m her boss. And I can be her guardian if we need to file for Legal charges.”

“I think it’s better for us to find another place for Ms. Hernandez to stay. This place is already aired on television, those reporters were too hard to handle. We can’t let strangers go and visit her unannounced.”

“Okay, I understand.”

Mr. Dawson saw me with one of the paramedics situated in the living room where she disinfects some of my scratches and my knee scrape.

“And what happened to your knee?”

He asked me squinting his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Uhh, it’s just a little scrape. Nothing to worry about.”

“That man did that to you?!”

‘What? No. it happened this morning… I was being questioned with some reporters.”

Mr. Dawson nodded to the pracademic cue that he wants to talk to be alone.

“I told you to call me if something is wrong. The moment you appeared on the news, expect something like this to happen.”

“I just don’t want to bother you, sir. I don’t want to be a bother. I hope you understand that.”

“Not being a bother is already a bother to me, Ms. Hernandez. What if something serious happens to you? I said you are already my responsibility. I dragged you into this, so basically I should take care of you.”

That left me speechless. It’s the first someone has literally told me to take care of myself. I never know how it makes someone happy for having such assurance. Now I know how it feels like.

“You’ll be staying in my house for the meantime. I will look for another apartment tomorrow.”

What did I do to deserve this?!!!

To be continued~