Confronting the Pain.

Disclaimer

This is a work of fiction. All characters, locations, and events depicted in this book are entirely the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or real-world events is purely coincidental.

"You know," Elijah said from the driver’s seat, his tone casual but pointed, "you don’t have to act all tough and strong. It’s okay to admit when something’s bothering you."

Nalani turned to him, narrowing her eyes into a glare that could pierce steel. Her expression screamed: Say that again, and I will personally remove your head.

"Remember what I said," she snapped. "No small talk."

Elijah glanced her way briefly, his face a mix of amusement and concern, before focusing back on the road. Nalani tried shifting her injured ankle again, wincing from the sharp pain. Despite herself, she let out a small hiss of discomfort.

"Are you okay?" Elijah asked, glancing at her.

"It’s none of your business," she replied harshly, crossing her arms.

"Come on, I’m just trying to be nice," Elijah countered, still calm.

"Well, Mister Nice Guy," she retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "I didn’t ask for your help, so leave me alone."

Elijah sighed audibly, the sound filling the car. Nalani could feel the tension building, her heart pounding inexplicably. She hated this—hated how he could make her feel unsettled and cared for at the same time.

After a few moments of silence, she bit her lip and muttered, "I’m sorry."

Elijah looked at her, his face breaking into a small smile. "It’s fine. Karma’s just being a bitch, as usual."

His phone rang, the sound cutting through the quiet car. Both of them glanced at the screen as the caller ID lit up: Mom with a love emoji. Nalani raised an eyebrow but quickly looked away, pretending not to care.

"You should probably take that," she said, more out of politeness than actual concern.

"It’s nothing," Elijah replied dismissively, his tone casual. "She just wants to know where I am and ask about some random stuff. Not that important."

"Dude," Nalani said, incredulous, "it’s your mom."

Elijah shrugged. "Not really," he muttered under his breath.

Nalani frowned, her curiosity piqued. "What do you mean by ‘not really’?" she pressed.

"It’s nothing serious," he replied, his tone shifting slightly as he changed the subject. "So, how’s the leg? On a scale of one to ten, how’s the pain?"

"Over ten. Wouldn’t recommend," Nalani replied with a smirk, drawing a laugh from Elijah. His laughter was contagious, and despite herself, Nalani joined in.

The phone rang again, but this time Elijah picked it up, glanced at the screen, and turned it off, shoving it into the glove compartment. Nalani noticed but chose not to comment, instead pulling out her phone to watch a couple of fashion videos.

"You like music?" Elijah asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, sure," Nalani replied, her eyes still glued to her screen.

"What kind?"

Nalani sighed, lowering her phone slightly. "Remember what I said about small talk? Respect it now."

"Come on," Elijah persisted, a teasing edge in his voice. "It wouldn’t hurt to answer. Who’s your favorite artist at the moment?"

Realizing he wasn’t going to give up, Nalani rolled her eyes. "The Fallouts," she said sharply, hoping to end the conversation there.

"You listen to The Fallouts?" Elijah asked, genuine surprise coloring his tone.

"Yeah, I do. Anything wrong with that?"

"I mean," Elijah began, chuckling, "you don’t exactly look like a Fallouts fan."

"Excuse me?" Nalani shot back, feigning offense. "Should I go grab some black skirts and high boots to prove my allegiance?"

They stared at each other for a beat before bursting into laughter. It was a rare, shared moment of levity that felt strangely natural.

Elijah reached into the car’s console, pulling out a small stack of CDs.

"What are those?" Nalani asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"CDs, obviously," he replied, rifling through the stack before pulling one out. It was worn, the cover featuring two boys and a girl standing against a backdrop of stars.

"You have the Roses and Dreams album?" Nalani exclaimed, her tone full of awe.

"Yep. The original classic," Elijah bragged, sliding the disc into the car’s CD player.

A few seconds of static filled the car before the soft strains of rock music played. Nalani immediately started singing along, missing a few notes but not caring. Elijah didn’t either. He simply watched her, a rare smile tugging at his lips.

By the time they pulled into the hospital parking lot, Nalani felt a strange sense of ease—though she’d never admit it.

"You don’t have to carry me inside," she said firmly, unbuckling her seatbelt.

Elijah grinned. "I can’t let you put pressure on that ankle. So, giddy up."

Before she could protest, he opened her door and scooped her up effortlessly. She blinked in surprise, silently marveling at his strength despite his lean build.

"Can you help me with that?" Elijah asked, nodding toward the car key he held beneath his arm. Nalani took it, pressing the lock button. The car beeped in response.

"Let’s get that leg checked, shall we?" he said as he carried her through the hospital’s main doors.

Nalani sighed, her face flushing slightly. "Just so we’re clear," she muttered, "this is not a date."

"I never said it was," Elijah replied, his voice laced with amusement.

And with that, they disappeared into the hospital’s bright hallways, the music from the car still echoing faintly in Nalani’s mind.

Nalani’s cheeks burned with embarrassment as Elijah carried her through the hospital hallway, ignoring the curious stares of patients and staff. She buried her face in her hands, wishing she could disappear. The weight of her awkwardness only grew heavier when they approached the receptionist.

"Good morning," Elijah said with a charming smile, his voice warm and friendly.

The receptionist, a young woman with a neat bun and a navy-blue uniform, looked up from her desk. Her professional demeanor faltered slightly as she returned his smile. Nalani noticed the subtle shift immediately. It was as if she had vanished from the scene entirely, and now she was witnessing the opening act of a rom-com starring Elijah and the receptionist.

Her eyes darted between them, and she couldn’t help but think, Of course. With his looks, every woman would be all over him if he weren’t such a jerk sometimes.

Nalani cleared her throat pointedly, breaking their silent exchange. The receptionist blinked, her pleasant expression shifting to one of barely concealed irritation as she turned to Nalani.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"How may I help you?" she asked, her tone clipped.

"We’d like to see a doctor, please," Elijah replied smoothly before Nalani could speak.

The receptionist picked up the office phone and made a brief call, her voice a mix of yeses and nos. After hanging up, she looked at them again. "Please take a seat. The doctor will see you shortly."

"Thank you," Elijah said, nodding politely before turning toward the waiting area.

He gently helped Nalani onto a chair before sitting beside her. "What are you thirsty for?" he asked, glancing around as if searching for a vending machine.

"Anything, really," she replied, trying to keep her tone indifferent.

"Anything? Don’t you have a favorite soda or something?"

"Fine," she said, relenting. "I’ll take a Dr. Spicy."

"One Dr. Spicy coming right up," he said with a grin before heading off down the hallway.

Left alone, Nalani pulled out her phone, her thumb hovering over a message from Kate. Reading it again made her stomach twist. She needed a plan—fast. Asking Elijah for help crossed her mind briefly. He was the prince of the fashion world, after all. But taking advantage of his kindness felt too exploitative, even if she hated to admit he was being kind.

A gentle tap on her lap startled her. She looked down to see a little girl, no older than five, holding up a small, well-loved doll with wide, curious eyes.

"Thank you. It’s so beautiful," Nalani said with a smile, lifting the girl onto her lap.

The child giggled as she pulled out a tiny brush and began combing the doll’s hair.

"You two look lovely," said a woman sitting nearby, her voice kind and warm.

"Thank you," Nalani replied softly, her tone almost shy.

A nurse stepped into the room and called out, "Mrs. Richards, the doctor will see you now."

The woman smiled at Nalani and then turned to the little girl. "Come on, Pride, it’s our turn."

The girl slid off Nalani’s lap, grinning up at her one last time before running to her mother, who held out her hand. As they walked away, Nalani couldn’t help but feel a pang of nostalgia. The scene reminded her of her own childhood—when her father used to take her to doctor’s appointments. But that was a long time ago, and those memories felt like they belonged to someone else.

As the minutes dragged on, she realized Elijah had been gone for quite a while.

Down the hallway, Elijah stood with two soda cans in hand, leaning against the wall. He hadn’t planned to linger, but he found himself watching Nalani from afar. Her smile when she interacted with the little girl was soft, genuine, and unguarded. It made something stir in his chest—a feeling he didn’t quite know how to name.

The drinks were getting warm in his hands, but he didn’t want to move just yet. He wanted to savor the moment, to watch her without the usual sharpness in her eyes.

"She’s beautiful, isn’t she?"

Startled, Elijah turned to see Mrs. Richards standing nearby, holding her daughter’s hand.

"Yeah," he said, his voice quieter than usual.

Mrs. Richards smiled knowingly before walking past him, Pride giving him a cheerful wave as they disappeared down the hall.

Back in the waiting area, Nalani fidgeted in her seat. Her mind was replaying Kate’s message and spiraling into doubts. When Elijah finally returned, she expected a teasing remark or some light banter. Instead, he was quiet, almost subdued, as he handed her the Dr. Spicy.

"What’s up with your face?" she asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Nothing," he replied, sitting down heavily.

"Are you sure?"

"I said it’s nothing," he repeated, his tone shutting down further questions.

The silence between them was heavy and unfamiliar, stretching into the doctor’s office when it was finally her turn.

As the doctor examined her foot, Nalani found her thoughts drifting again. She couldn’t stop replaying the moment she’d caught Elijah with the receptionist earlier. It was stupid, she told herself, to think he might have any real interest in her. He was rich, handsome, and charismatic. Of course, women were drawn to him. She wasn’t special.

When the appointment ended, and Elijah wasn’t waiting outside the room, her stomach dropped. She pushed herself off the examination table, wincing as she tested her weight on her good foot. Hobbling into the hallway, she caught sight of him near the vending machines.

Her heart sank.

There he was, locked in a seemingly passionate hug with a nurse. The woman was strikingly beautiful, tall, and slender with an air of confidence. Her perfume was strong enough to reach Nalani even from a distance.

Nalani’s throat tightened. She clenched her fists and looked away, swallowing down the bitterness rising in her chest. Of course, she thought. I was stupid to think anything different.

She turned away and limped back toward the waiting area, telling herself it didn’t matter. But the ache in her chest felt sharper than the pain in her ankle.

“The good news is she’ll be able to leave after today,” the doctor began, his calm voice masking the seriousness of his words. “The bad news is we’ll need to do a proper X-ray to determine if her foot is broken.”

“Broken?” Nalani’s voice rose, her eyes darting to Elijah, who straightened in his chair, his concerned gaze locked on the doctor.

“How long before we can do the X-ray?” Elijah asked, his tone steady but tense.

“Right now, ideally,” the doctor replied. “The swelling around the foot could be due to a bone fragment or restricted blood flow. A proper scan will give us a clearer picture.”

“A bone?” Nalani repeated, her voice higher this time, a mix of shock and fear.

“It’s just a possibility,” the doctor reassured her. “No need to panic just yet. I’ll have the nurses prepare you for the scan.” With that, he left the room, leaving the air heavy with unease.

Nalani’s lips trembled as she turned to Elijah. “I can’t have a broken foot. Not now!” she said, her voice cracking with panic.

“It’s going to be fine,” Elijah said gently, leaning forward to comfort her.

“This is all your fault!” she snapped, her voice sharp and accusing.

“My fault?” Elijah asked, his brows knitting together in confusion. “I wasn’t the one running down the street in the middle of the night wearing heels.”

“I should’ve stayed home,” Nalani countered, tears welling in her eyes. “I should’ve never gotten into your stupid car!”

Elijah opened his mouth to respond but then paused, taking a deep breath to calm himself. “It’s going to be fine, Nala—”

“Don’t ever call me that!” she interrupted, her voice fierce.

He sighed, the tension between them palpable. “Look,” he said, keeping his voice steady. “You heard what the doctor said. It’s just a possibility—”

“Excuse me,” a nurse called from the doorway, cutting through the argument. “I’m here for Nalani Amara Colette Pablo?”

Nalani froze, momentarily startled by how perfectly the nurse pronounced her full name on the first try. That small spark of pleasure quickly faded when she realized who the nurse was—the same woman she’d seen Elijah hugging earlier.

Nalani sat in the examination room, her foot propped up on the scanning machine as the technician prepared the X-ray. Her thoughts churned, bouncing between her anger at Elijah and the stress of her situation.

Meanwhile, in another part of the hospital, Elijah leaned against a wall, running his hand through his hair. He didn’t know what to make of Nalani’s outburst. Was she upset about her foot? Or was it something else entirely?

******

Back at the estate, Nalia adjusted the camera carefully, ensuring the frame was perfect. Her filming room was one of her favorite places in the sprawling mansion. The white walls were decorated with pictures of her and her dog, Colleen, while the lighting created a soft, professional ambiance.

Dressed in a cream-colored double-breasted suit that hugged her frame perfectly, paired with matching trousers, she looked every bit the powerful businesswoman she wanted the world to see. Her black hair was tied into a neat bun, and her makeup was flawless.

She scanned the script in her hand one last time, nodding to herself before tapping the lighting controls for a more cinematic effect. With a deep breath, she hit the record button.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” she began, her voice smooth and confident. “Welcome to Nalia’s Vlog. As you all know, I’ve been away for a while, preparing for a major job interview. Speaking of interviews, let’s talk about stealers—yes, those people who think it’s okay to take credit for someone else’s work. Honestly, I think it should be a legal offense.”

Her smile was sharp as she continued. “We’ll dive into that today.”

After finishing, she reviewed the footage a few times, tweaking the lighting and angles. Once satisfied, she uploaded the video to her stream app before sharing it on Vibestream. It was her masterpiece, a calculated takedown of a rival designer. She’d cast herself as the hardworking, innovative victim, ensuring the court of public opinion was firmly on her side.

Nalia smiled to herself, feeling triumphant. She slipped off her heels, replacing them with cozy bunny slippers, and made her way downstairs to celebrate.

Elise, her assistant, was waiting in the living room with a phone in her hand.

“Your father wants to speak to you,” Elise said, handing her the phone.

Nalia sighed but took the call, her voice adopting a playful tone. “Hello, Daddy.”

“Hello, my princess,” her father’s deep voice came through, calm but distant. “How are you?”

“I’m not fine,” she pouted. “When are you coming back?”

“Just before New Year’s, I promise,” he replied. “How’s Jasson?”

“The weather’s terrible—sometimes hot, sometimes cold. They keep saying on TV that the climate is messed up. I wanted to go somewhere colder for the holidays, maybe ski for a bit.”

Her father chuckled. “I understand, my love. But you know how busy Beatrice and I have been. It’s that time of year when we have to handle stocks and markets. Maybe next year.”

Nalia’s expression darkened, her annoyance barely concealed. It was always the same excuse.

“How’s the company coming along?” he asked, shifting the topic to what truly mattered to him.

“We’re still in the development stage, trying to break into the market,” she replied, her tone careful.

“Oh, great. Beatrice told me you lost the Kate contract. Care to explain that?” His voice was calm, but Nalia could hear the edge beneath his words.

“She was a washed-up model,” Nalia said quickly. “She couldn’t handle the heat, so she left—”

“Listen here,” her father interrupted, his voice rising. She could hear the sharp slam of his hand against a desk. “I invested a lot of money into that contract, and you just threw it away.”

“Trust me, Dad,” Nalia said, her tone soothing despite her frustration. “I’ll fix it. I just need time.”

“You’re running out of time,” he snapped. “When I return, you’d better have something to show for it, or we’re going to have a serious talk.”

With that, the line went dead.

Nalia stared at the phone, her jaw tightening. She’d grown used to her father treating her as either a spoiled child or a business pawn—nothing in between. But she was determined. One day, she’d take the reins of the company entirely, and he wouldn’t be able to question her again.

The phone buzzed in her ear, her father’s words still echoing in her mind, and with an irritated sigh, Nalia tossed the phone toward Elise, who barely managed to catch it. “Talk about a mood killer,” she muttered, spinning on her heel to head upstairs. The thought of her victory drink soured with every step.

“Cancel all my meetings,” Nalia called over her shoulder as she ascended the grand staircase. “And get me every single record from all the rubber companies and brands in the city.” Her voice carried the sharp edge of authority, leaving no room for questions.

“Yes, ma’am,” Elise replied obediently, turning to leave.

“And get me a drink—something hot. Oh, and maybe a good-looking guy too. I need to clear my head.” Nalia’s voice trailed off as she disappeared up the flight of stairs.

Elise paused for a moment, staring at the empty staircase before muttering to herself, “How much longer do I have to put up with this?” With a resigned sigh, she turned to complete the task.

******

“See? I told you it wasn’t that bad,” Elijah said with a grin as he leaned casually against the hospital wall. It was the fourth time his eyes met the nurse’s across the room, and each time, both looked away quickly, but the stolen glances didn’t go unnoticed by Nalani.

The doctor had just finished wrapping her foot, explaining the care routine. “Rest, keep weight off it, and use ice for any pain. If it gets worse, come back immediately,” he instructed, securing the splint snugly around her foot.

“Thank you, doctor,” Nalani replied curtly, her voice polite but distant.

Her real focus wasn’t on her injury but on the “lovebirds” exchanging glances behind the doctor. Elijah, arms crossed and sleeves rolled up, leaned against the wall, looking effortlessly cool. Meanwhile, the nurse—her eyes lingering on Elijah longer than necessary—seemed far more invested in him than her work.

When the doctor handed her the crutches, Elijah moved to help her up, but she jerked away. “I don’t need your help,” she snapped, gripping the crutches tightly and hobbling toward the door.

Elijah hesitated, exchanging quick nods with the doctor and the nurse before following Nalani out.

“You’ve been acting weird since I came back with drinks. What’s up with that?” Elijah asked, his voice tinged with concern as they made their way down the hall.

“It’s nothing,” Nalani said, her tone cold. “I just didn’t know your girlfriend worked here.”

“My girlfriend?” Elijah blinked in confusion. “You mean Bella?”

“Oh, so that’s her name. Nice,” Nalani replied dryly, her sarcasm cutting through the air.

“Come on, Nala—”

“To you, it’s Nalani,” she snapped, stopping in her tracks. “In fact, screw you. Don’t call my name at all.”

Elijah sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “She’s not my girlfriend, Nalani. We’re not even close.”

“Sure didn’t look that way when you were hugging her,” she said, her voice dripping with disdain.

“You saw that?” Elijah shifted uncomfortably, his voice defensive. “It’s not what you think.”

“Oh, I’m sure it isn’t. Look, whatever excuse you’re about to make, just save it. Either drop me off or I’ll figure out my own way home,” Nalani said, groaning as she accidentally put weight on her injured foot.

Without a word, Elijah stepped forward, wrapping an arm around her to support her weight. Despite her protests, he guided her down the hall and out to the car.

Once they were inside, Elijah glanced over at her. “How about we grab some lunch first? You know, to make it up to you.”

“No,” Nalani replied firmly. “Just take me home.”

“I can’t drop you off on an empty stomach. Your mom will kill me,” Elijah said, starting the car.

“Why is it so hard for you to just listen for once?” Nalani growled, crossing her arms.

“Don’t be so stubborn, jeez,” Elijah shot back. “We’re getting lunch. That’s final.”

Nalani opened her mouth to argue, but her stomach betrayed her, letting out a loud growl. Elijah smirked, glancing at her with an amused expression.

“Don’t even,” she warned, glaring at him.

“I didn’t say anything!” he said, though his lips twitched with suppressed laughter.

Her stomach growled again, and this time, Elijah couldn’t hold back a chuckle.

“I swear, one more sound and I’ll throw you out of this car,” she said, her cheeks flushing.

“Relax,” he said, biting back another laugh. “There are snacks in the back.”

“I don’t want your snacks,” she said stubbornly, though her stomach betrayed her with another rumble.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his tone teasing.

With a huff, Nalani reached into the back seat, pulling out a neatly packed snack tray. As she opened it, her eyes lit up slightly at the sight of the assortment of treats.

Elijah reached out to grab one, but she smacked his hand away. “No snacking while driving,” she said firmly.

“Since when was that a rule?” he protested.

“Since now,” she replied smugly. “And think of it as punishment for being a playboy.”

Elijah groaned but didn’t argue, though he couldn’t resist sneaking a glance at her out of the corner of his eye. Despite her sharp tongue and fiery attitude, he couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly she commanded attention—even when she was angry.