Rebecca’s brow furrowed.
“Let him rest in the lounge. He shouldn’t work anymore today.”
Nash pressed his lips together, took a slow breath, and nodded.
He and Rebecca left the room together.
“Is Mr. Davidson going to be all right?”
Rebecca shook her head. “I’ve asked someone to bring over the equipment. Once he wakes up, I’ll do a full examination.”
Nash nodded, worry etched on his face.
—
Inside the office lounge, Alexander’s mind was trapped in a thick, consuming darkness. Yet, cutting through the haze, a woman’s voice echoed—soft, yet tinged with worry.
“Don’t push yourself too hard, love.”
He tried to force his eyes open, but his lids felt impossibly heavy, as if weighted with lead. The voice came again, so close this time he could almost feel her breath grazing his ear.
“Take care of yourself.”
Danielle.
The realization jolted through him like an electric shock.
He snapped his eyes open, only to be greeted by the familiar ceiling of his office.
Another dream.
He pressed his hand to his throbbing temple, fingertips coming away damp with cold sweat.
These dreams were becoming more frequent. Danielle’s voice always carried a different emotion—sometimes laughter, sometimes irritation, but most often, like just now, a concern so deep he dared not examine it too closely.
Hearing movement from inside, Nash didn’t hesitate. He pushed the door open and stepped in.
“Mr. Davidson, are you all right?”
Alexander drew a steadying breath. “How long was I asleep?”
His voice had already returned to its usual cool, distant tone.
“It’s almost nine, sir. Your video conference with the European partners is in the calendar, and the briefings are in your inbox. Also, Dr. Rebecca wants to run a full check-up.”
She set the kit down, her tone clipped. “I warned you last week—your body is flashing warning signs. If you keep this up, not even a miracle will save you.”
“You should be taking the medication I prescribed.”
Alexander didn’t bother to look up. He walked behind his desk and flipped open a file. “It’s just a routine check. Make it quick.”
Rebecca clenched her jaw, but pulled out the blood pressure cuff and stethoscope.
With most patients like him, she would have given up by now—but with Alexander, she simply couldn’t.
She conducted a thorough exam and assessment, noting his vitals.
“You know there’s nothing actually wrong with me,” Alexander said quietly. “This is just for show.”
Rebecca put away her stethoscope and began jotting down numbers.
“You’re working yourself into the ground. I know you won’t listen, but as your doctor—and your friend—I have to warn you, if this goes on…”
Her words were cut short by a harsh, suppressed cough. Alexander pressed a hand to his mouth, shoulders shuddering violently.
Rebecca’s expression changed in an instant. She quickly handed him a tissue. “What’s happening? Are you all right?”
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