Farewell To My Endless Love
Chapter 50 Getting Sick

Scarlett's POV:

Abner and I, along with some crew, were tasked to go to Seattle, Washington to conduct an interview with a certain famous personality.

Seattle was beautiful, and its weather was not in the extremes all year round. Abner loved it there and even commented that he would want to settle down there someday.

The interview lasted for two days and came to an end soon. The interviewee was William, an outstanding and elegant entrepreneur. Even at his age of late 30s, he was still the object of many women's admiration.

The night before our flight back home, William invited me, Abner, and the staff to dinner at a fancy restaurant.

"Scarlett, I heard that you've interviewed a lot of celebrities in the past. Is Rita Lively one of them?" William asked me with great interest while cutting his steak.

As if right on cue, all the heads at our table turned to me. My colleagues were familiar with Rita. They once saw her at the TV station looking for me.

"No, but I know Rita. One of my friends is very close to her." I decided to tell him the truth.

"How is she now by the way? Is she getting better?" William continued to ask.

"She should be out of danger now." After all, Rita went to bars at nights now and got drunk.

"Is she married?"

"No, not yet, but many people like her." I lowered my head and tried to focus on my salad. My remark barely sparked interest from anyone at the table. I supposed they did not know about Rita and Charles's engagement.

"Rita does have a lot of pursuers, but I remember her saying that there's already someone that she'll marry after she fully recovers," William said in a voice tinged faintly with disappointment.

"I think Rita will get what she wants." After Charles and I divorced officially, he and Rita would be able to be together openly.

"Really? Then I should start preparing her wedding gift," William said flatly and took a sip of his wine.

He seemed to be very familiar with Rita. I hated to admit it, but I was actually impressed that Rita knew such an icon in the business world.

I wanted to ask William how he knew Rita, but looking around and seeing my colleagues, I decided against it. I did not want to seem gossipy. The last thing I needed right now was for something to go wrong again. I shoved down my curiosity and changed the subject.

The dinner lasted till very late. After saying goodbye to William and thanking him, Abner proposed that we and the team go for drinks and dancing to celebrate the success of the interview. Nina made me drink a lot. At the end of the night, Nina practically carried me to my hotel room, and I passed out drunk on the sofa.

The next morning, I heard Nina calling me for breakfast, but my head and my whole body felt so heavy and hot that I could just grunt a response.

Then, my surroundings suddenly rang with many voices that felt like they were right in my ears.

I opened my eyes and tried to see what was happening, but my vision was still hazy. Then, someone scooped me up and carried me out of the room. I did not know who it was. All I knew is that his chest felt strong and warm. Could it be Charles?

No. How could it be Charles? He should be with Rita right now. They would get married soon after our divorce. After a long time, I finally regained the strength to open my eyes. I saw white walls and smelled disinfectant.

Abner was sitting by my bed, and on the bedside table was a stainless steel tray of pills.

"Where am I?" I rubbed my aching forehead.

"The hospital. This morning, Nina swung by your room to invite you for breakfast, but she didn't get any response from you. So she asked the hotel manager to unlock your door, and we found you unconscious on the sofa and burning up with fever." Abner poured me a glass of water and handed me the pills.

"Thank you. I didn't make drunken ramblings, did I?" I usually blathered when I was hopelessly wasted.

Abner just raised his eyebrows. That was enough answer for me. Obviously, I did say something that I should not have said.

"When I picked you up to rush you here, you kept mumbling Charles's name. You've mistaken me for him. Scarlett, if you still have feelings for Charles, why don't you just tell him? You two are not getting any younger. You shouldn't be playing petty mind games." Abner's words were blunt and honest and something that only mature men would say.

"I don't have feelings for him anymore," I replied instinctively.

After that, an uncomfortable silence hung in the air above us. I felt ridiculous the moment the words left my lips. I thought I had grown accustomed to lying to myself when it came to Charles. As it turned out, I had not. And now I was making myself look like a fool in front of Abner.

"And even if I still do, I will never tell Charles. He already thinks that I'm still in love with him. If I confirm his assumptions, he will just use them to ridicule and then reject me. That's his style. He thinks that not having feelings makes him the winner," I added, clenching the sheets.

Since Charles and I agreed to file a divorce, I had been trying really hard to stick to my pride and principle. I respected Charles's decision to leave me for Rita, but all this time, he seemed hesitant to finalize that decision. He had been stringing me and Rita along, and it was not the kind of relationship that I wanted. I want a husband whose only choice was me, not someone who could not make up his own damn mind.

"I see. If you need anything, just tell me. I will help you anytime." Abner seemed to have sensed my uneasiness and instantly dropped the subject.

"I want to fly home now." I lowered my head and regretted my little outburst. I might feel comfortable around Abner, but every time I revealed a part of myself to him that I still had not sorted out, I felt embarrassed.

"You haven't fully recovered. And if we go home now, will there be anyone to take care of you?" It annoyed me a little every time Abner looked at me with worry that bordered on pity.

"I can take care of myself, Abner. I'm not an invalid. Let's just go home, please," I insisted.

Abner could just sigh and then took care of my discharge from the hospital. Next thing I knew, we were on a flight back home.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay on your own? I can take you to a hospital right now and then drive you back here tomorrow." Abner pulled over in front of my house. He got out of the car and took out my suitcase from the trunk. "I'm fine now. I don't need to go to the hospital," I turned him down as politely as I could.

"Very well. Don't forget to take your pills before bed. The doctor said to finish your round of antibiotics even if your fever is already gone." Abner gave me the rest of my medications and kept reminding me about them like a worried father. I smiled.

"Abner, don't you have more important things to worry about than me?" I teased. I just got sick because of a very bad hangover, and he was fussing over me like I had been diagnosed with a terminal illness. "I'm serious. The doctor said spiking a fever frequently is not a good thing. Your face is still red." Abner frowned and then reached out to feel my forehead.

"Scarlett!" Charles's cold voice interrupted us.

Abner turned his head to look at Charles who was just getting out of his car. Abner handed me my suitcase.

"Take care of yourself, okay? I'll see you at work," Abner said by way of goodbye. Then, he turned around and got in his car. He just walked past Charles as if he did not even see him. I spoke before Charles could.

"Whatever brought you here, I don't want to talk about it right now. I'm exhausted. I want to sleep." I took my suitcase and made my way to my front door. Charles was right on my heels.

"Looks like you had a great time with Abner during the last few days. Have you enjoyed working with him so much that you don't even want to talk to me?" Charles started in a tone that I resented.

I wanted to snap back, but I was too tired to do so. All I wanted was to crawl into bed and sleep for a long time.

"Stop pulling conflict out of thin air and go home, Charles." I just wanted to get some rest after days of hard work. I did not understand why Charles always had to show up when the last thing I wanted to do was to deal with his crap.

"Why do you have a bottle of pills in your hand? What are those for?" Charles noticed the medications in my hand and grabbed them from me. He checked the label.

"I caught a cold when we were wrapping up in

Seattle," I replied and leaned against my door.

Charles knitted his brows and then took my suitcase.

"What are you doing? Didn't you hear me? I want to rest. Leave me alone," I yelled.

Charles held my wrist and forcibly grabbed my suitcase. Per usual, he could not just turn around and leave when I asked him to.

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