It was just an ordinary morning, or at least I tried to convince myself of that as I walked into the office. My mind was still swirling with fragments of the conversation with Dante earlier.His words had been looping in my head,'him being complicated didn't mean he didn't care', what was that even supposed to mean? I couldn't care less anyways, I had decided to stop bothering myself about what he did or didn't feel and it was working just fine for me,even better than I expected it would.
As I stepped into the building, I plastered a smile on my face, hoping it would conceal the tiredness I felt. People greeted me as usual, and I gave polite nods and soft hellos. My desk looked just the way I left it, neatly organized, but the sight of it made me feel oddly dizzy. I placed my bag down and took a deep breath, trying to shake off the lightheadedness. Maybe I hadn't eaten enough this morning.
Kate, my new assistant, came in, handing me a stack of files. "Good morning, ma'am. You look a little pale today. Are you okay?" she asked, her face etched with concern.
"I'm fine," I assured her, forcing a smile. "Just a bit tired."
She gave me a skeptical look but didn't push further. I thanked her and turned my attention to the files, flipping through them as I sat down. The words seemed to blur together, and I blinked, trying to clear my vision. I couldn't afford to slack off; I needed to keep myself busy. Work was supposed to be my distraction from the tangled mess of my feelings.
A few minutes passed, and I felt a sudden wave of heat wash over me. I loosened the collar of my blouse and wiped my forehead. Why was it so hot? I glanced around to see if the air conditioner was turned on to a proper setting and it was. Panic started to bubble inside me, and I tried to ignore it, focusing on the task at hand.
But then the room spun. I gripped the edge of my desk, my knuckles turning white. My vision swam, and I could barely make out Katy's voice calling my name before everything faded to black.
When I regained consciousness, I was lying on the floor, and people were gathered around me. Someone was holding my hand, and I slowly focused on Katy's worried face.
"Ma'am! Can you hear me?" He asked, squeezing my hand gently.
"What... what happened?" I managed to whisper, my throat feeling dry.
"You fainted. Just stay still,"she said. "Mr Dante is on his way."
The mention of his name made my heart jump, but I barely had time to process it before I heard his voice slicing through the crowd.
"Move! Let me through!" Dante's commanding tone was unmistakable. He knelt beside me, his face a mixture of fear and anger. "Sienna, can you hear me?"
I nodded weakly, attempting a smile. "I'm fine... just dizzy."
He didn't look convinced. "Call an ambulance," he yelled at Katy. "And get some water. Now."
I tried to sit up, but Dante's hand on my shoulder stopped me. "Don't move," he insisted. His fingers brushed a stray hair from my forehead, and I couldn't help but lean into his touch, even though I knew I shouldn't.
"You scared everyone," he muttered, his voice softer now. I could see the worry engraved into his features, his usual composed demeanor shattered.
The paramedics arrived quickly, and Dante stayed by my side as they assessed me. I kept trying to downplay the situation, insisting that I just needed to rest, but Dante wouldn't hear it.
"You're going to the hospital, and that's final," he snapped, his tone leaving no room for argument.
As they loaded me onto the stretcher, Dante climbed into the ambulance with me, refusing to leave my side. I glanced up at him, catching the way his jaw clenched as he watched the paramedics work.
The ride was a blur, with Dante holding my hand the entire time. I felt exhausted, but his presence was strangely comforting. Oddly, for the first time in a long time, a thought about Marcus crossed my mind. What if Marcus and I hadn't divorced and we were still happy together, it'll have been really beautiful going through this journey with him after waiting for so many years, but life had to happen the way it did. When we arrived at the hospital, he was the one talking to the doctors, making sure I got the best care. His protectiveness was overwhelming, and I didn't know how to feel about it.
They wheeled me into a private room, and Dante finally relaxed when the doctor assured him that I was stable. He sat beside the bed, running his hands through his hair, clearly shaken.
"You should've listened to me and stayed home to rest, you can't be risking your health like this," he finally said, not looking at me.
I wanted to argue, to tell him that it wasn't his place to worry,to tell him not to bother cause I'll be fine regardless,but the words wouldn't come. Instead, I just whispered, "Of course."
He finally met my gaze, and there was something in his eyes—fear, guilt, maybe even regret. It made my chest tighten, and I had to look away before I gave in to the temptation to reach for him.
The nurse came in to check my vitals, and Dante stood, giving us space. As he stepped out to make some calls, I couldn't help but wonder if this incident had shaken him more than he wanted to admit. I wasn't sure what would happen when we went back home, but right now, I was too tired to think about it.
One thing was clear—Dante might have tried to keep his distance, but in that moment, he had shown just how much he cared, whether he wanted to admit it or not.