YouHeal Hospital
Savannah and Bella both froze. The air in the stairwell suddenly shifted, thick with tension and surprise as the tall figure at the top of the stairs slowly descended one step, then another. Blaze's presence alone was magnetic, commanding the sharp lines of his suit accentuating his powerful frame, his eyes dark and unreadable, locked straight on them.
But it was Bella who reacted the most—her body jolted upright, eyes wide with disbelief. "Chairman...?" she whispered to herself, still trying to process what was happening.
Caught completely off guard, Bella scrambled to her feet, brushing off imaginary dust from her scrubs. She lowered her head, her eyes darting to the floor as she nervously greeted him, "Good afternoon, Chairman..." Her voice was barely audible, tangled with nerves. The realization that their elusive, authoritative hospital chairman-rarely seen outside of high-level meetings was standing in the emergency stairwell, of all places, with them, left her absolutely rattled.
Blaze didn't acknowledge her greeting. Instead, he remained a few steps above them, his expression calm yet firm, his gaze fixed on Savannah.
"I didn't get my answer," he repeated in his deep, steady voice, though there was a subtle shift in his tone that hinted at something more personal.
Bella's fingers fidgeted anxiously in front of her. "I-I..." she stammered, completely flustered.
Before she could say anything more, Savannah's voice sliced through the silence, cool and deliberate.
"How did you know I was here?" Savannah asked, her gaze slowly rising to meet his.
For a moment, Blaze was silent, just looking at her. But there was a quiet intensity in his eyes that made Bella shift uncomfortably beside them.
"I know everything about you, Ana," Blaze finally said, and the way his voice softened into something more intimate caught Bella completely off guard.
Ana?
Bella blinked in shock, her head whipping around to face Savannah. She glanced back at Blaze, then back at Savannah again. The nickname. The tone. The familiarity. It felt so out of place compared to the strictly professional man she had never encountered in hospital anywhere and long, not even in silent corridors, she had only seen him on a huge billboards nothing more nothing less.
The world seemed to tilt for Bella as she struggled to grasp what was unfolding.
Savannah, on the other hand, appeared much more at ease. She regarded him with a raised eyebrow and the faintest hint of a smile.
"So..." she began, slowly rising from the stair, brushing her palms against her coat. "Are we going for barbeque or what?"
Blaze took the final steps until he stood right in front of her. "Whatever you want, Ana," he replied, his voice dropping to a softer tone meant just for her as he reached out his hand.
Without a moment's hesitation, Savannah slipped her hand into his.
Bella's jaw dropped. She was completely stunned.
She stood there, frozen, as she watched Savannah take his hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world. This was the same Savannah who had been quiet, withdrawn, and emotionally distant all day—now holding hands with the chairman of the hospital, a man who not only knew her personal nickname but clearly shared a connection that ran much deeper than anyone had realized.
Savannah turned to Bella, her expression now softer, almost affectionate.
"I'll catch up with you after lunch," she said, offering a small, knowing smile before allowing Blaze to gently lead her down the stairs, the two of them walking side by side—fingers intertwined, as if it were something they had done a hundred times before.
Bella found herself standing alone in the stairwell, her eyes wide, heart pounding, and her mind racing to process the shocking scene she had just witnessed.
What. Just. Happened?
Barbeque Restaurant
The private room of the restaurant was everything Savannah once loved-warm, serene, filled with the scent of her favorite dishes. The polished mahogany table gleamed beneath the soft amber lights above, and the soft jazz humming through the hidden speakers lent the space a familiar comfort. But today, even the air felt different.
Savannah sat still, her hands resting lightly in her lap, her shoulders hunched as if she were trying to shrink away from the world. From the moment she entered this room, the weight in her chest had only intensified. She glanced at the food laid out before her—lobster, her beloved grilled asparagus, creamy garlic mashed potatoes, and risotto with just a hint of truffle oil—each dish a reminder of cherished memories.
Blaze had remembered it all. Every little detail. Every single preference.
He always did.
Seated across from her, he watched her with an intensity she couldn't bring herself to meet. The man who had always seemed so composed and in control now showed signs of tension—his jaw clenched, a slight furrow etched on his brow. His strong hands gently cracked the lobster shell for her, pulling out the succulent meat and arranging it on her plate just like he used to when life felt simpler. Warmer.
"I can manage on my own," Savannah whispered, her voice soft and lacking any bite. It wasn't a protest; it felt more like a formality.
Blaze didn't look up. "I know," he replied, calm and quiet, but he continued his task nonetheless.
There was something grounding about it, almost ritualistic. If she wouldn't allow him to carry her pain, he would at least lighten her load, no matter how small.
She watched his hands move, though her mind was elsewhere—adrift, really.
Her eyes, once vibrant and full of life, sparkled with laughter and light... but now they seemed so hollow.
Not cold. Just... empty.
It felt as if someone had scooped out everything that made her who she was, leaving behind just a shell to pretend. There was no anger. No tears. No sadness, either. Just a void. A silence that terrified Blaze more than any shouting or crying ever could.
He tried.
He tried to fill the silence with little stories. He told her how the kitchen staff had remembered her.
How the chef had insisted on making the risotto just for her. He mentioned a new exhibit at the art gallery she used to adore, the one with the immersive lights and music that once brought a childlike smile to her face.
She nodded. Once. No words. No spark.
Her fork hovered over the food but never quite made it to her mouth.
Blaze finally leaned back, letting out a slow breath, fingers intertwined in front of him. He hadn't touched his food.
Not even a sip of water. His focus was entirely on her—not as a man who commanded boardrooms and led empires, but as someone desperately trying to reach the woman he loved across a chasm she wouldn't let him cross.
"You're really not going to talk to me?" he asked softly, not in accusation, but more like a question born from pain. From longing.
Savannah didn't respond.
She didn't even look at him.
And that—that—was what shattered something small and tender inside him.
Her silence screamed in his ears. Her stillness gnawed at his heart.
There was a time when she would look at him like he was everything. Her eyes would light up just by being in the same room as him. Now... she wouldn't even lift them to meet his gaze.
He had no idea what she had uncovered—what truth had stolen the light from her—but he felt, with an ache like bruises beneath the skin, that it had broken her spirit.
He swallowed, his throat dry.
"I know everything's wrong," Blaze finally said, his voice raw. "And if I could take it from you... whatever it is that's haunting you... I would."
Still nothing.
"Talk to me, Ana. Yell at me. Hit me if you want. Just don't shut me out. Please."
Finally, she looked up.
What he saw shook him more than any answer could.
Nothing.
Her eyes those soft, vibrant eyes that used to hold so many emotions were blank. Not cold. Not angry. Just... vacant. Like something inside her had gone silent and never returned.
"You can't take it back," she finally whispered. Her voice was low, steady. Too steady. "It's already done."
Blaze furrowed his brows. "What's already done?"
She turned away again, the wall coming back up. "Everything."
A long silence stretched between them. He didn't fully grasp it, but he recognized pain when he saw it. He could tell when someone was on the edge of breaking and needed space.
So instead of pushing, he leaned in, nudging the lobster meat closer to her once more, and said softly, "You don't have to say anything right now. You don't even have to eat. But I'll sit here with you, for as long as it takes."
She didn't say another word.
But after a few minutes, she picked up her fork and took a bite.
It wasn't much.
But it was something.
And Blaze, despite the ache in his heart, clung to that small something like it was a lifeline.
Because he still believed that somewhere deep inside her... Ana was still there.
And he would wait for her. No matter how long it took.
Author's Note :
Thankyou for reading<3
Hope you've good day/night<3<3