I was just giving him the same treatment now. And yet, he had the audacity to look hurt. I left the ward without looking back and headed straight for my doctor’s office.
My phone wouldn’t stop buzzing while I was in the midst of my health examinations.
Colton had sent me dozens of messages. First, he admitted that he’d been wrong, apologized, and asked me what I was doing at the hospital. He also asked if I was hurt or feeling ill anywhere.
Seeing that I wasn’t responding to his messages, Colton called me up.
“Gianna, is it because of the miscarriage the last time? Are you experiencing any side effects or aftermaths? Are you tired? I can send you home if you want.”
“No need. My friend is sending me home.”
When he heard this, he still thought that I was throwing a tantrum at him.
I couldn’t even be bothered to explain things to him. Instead, I took a photo of from the front passenger seat and sent it to him.
my view
This was the first time Colton thought he got embarrassed by me. His breathing got louder and harsher as if he was about to blow any moment soon.
I didn’t want my good mood to be disrupted by him, so I just hung up.
I didn’t go home that night.
My best friend, Phoebe Teller, got mad on my behalf after I told her everything I’d been through. She looked as if she wanted to tear Colton to pieces.
Phoebe and I spent a pleasant night together. We stayed up all night and only finally went to sleep at the crack of dawn.
I was rudely woken up by the loud ringing of my phone in the middle of the next day.
I unlocked my phone and saw that Colton had called me at least a dozen times.
Phoebe was still asleep, so I forced myself to get up and answer the call despite my pounding headache.
“Gianna, where are you? Why haven’t you come home the whole night?”
Colton’s voice sounded hoarse.
I felt annoyed and frustrated to the max. Inhaling deeply, I said, “It’s Monday today. I have an early meeting at the company. I left a long time ago.”
Colton was quiet for a while. Then, he told me that he was now standing on the ground floor of my office and hadn’t seen me at all.
I suddenly felt anger rising in my chest. I couldn’t stop myself from questioning him.
“Who gave you the right to keep tabs on me? Colton Skye, I don’t think there’s a need for me to tell you my whereabouts all the time. Who do you think you are?“
I spoke to him in the same manner he used when he was answering me perfunctorily in the past.
