The Assistant's Prisoner: Love on Hold

I gagged, veins bulging on my temples, my face flushing. I turned to face Jean, wanting to explain, but she smashed the glass in her hand toward me.

A sudden, sharp pain surged through my temple. Instinctively, I wiped at it and found my hand dripping with blood.

Flustered, Jean shouted, "A-Are you blind? Why didn't you dodge? I'm taking you to the hospital."

She stepped forward to help me, her face somber.

The moment I opened the car door, I saw men's underwear on the passenger seat. Wordlessly, I opened the back door.

Jean hurriedly stuffed it away and gave me an embarrassed look. "I bought this for you—"

"Enough. Just take me to the hospital," I interrupted her coldly, my patience worn thin.

She kept making small talk along the way. However, I just stared out the window, lost in the passing scenery, offering her nothing in return. It was just like how she used to be with me, as if saying even a few words to me was a huge favor.

Jean suddenly fell silent. She put on her earpiece and answered a call, her tone growing anxious. "Don't panic. I'll be there right away."

She pulled the car over abruptly. "Get out. I've got urgent business at the office."

I glanced out at the highway, the endless fields beside it, and then down at the blood left on my hand.

I stared at her, incredulous. "You want me to get out right here?"

She urged impatiently, "You're old enough. Can't you just take a cab?"

I drew in a few deep breaths and swung the car door open.

I hadn't even regained my balance when she sped off, nearly clipping me and sending me sprawling. A horn blared behind me as a massive truck raced past, inches to spare.

With no choice, I had to detour along a narrow, bramble-choked path beside the road.

It was the height of summer, and the scorching sun overhead left me dizzy. Sweat soaked my clothes, sticking to my skin. It felt as if every drop of moisture had been sucked from my body, and my throat burned with thirst.

Just as I was about to collapse from exhaustion, I was fortunate enough to encounter an elderly man busy working in the fields, who helped me get to the hospital.

Completely drained, I drifted into a deep sleep with the IV still in my arm.

A woman nearby woke me, clicking her tongue. "Your forehead is all swollen and bleeding so much. Why didn't you call the nurse?"

I gave her a grateful glance, then lowered my eyes to unlock my phone. There were no new messages. Instinctively, I tapped on Callum's Instagram.

"The cat was in a huff and refused to eat, but as soon as she arrived, she soothed it in no time."

In the video, Jean cradled the cat, her eyes melting with adoration. She patiently tore a piece of meat into tiny strips and fed it slowly.

The world around me grew silent, leaving only the IV's rhythmic drip. Cold and piercing, it coursed through my veins, drilling a gaping hole in my heart.

I scrolled through old photos with vacant eyes. How had I fallen in love with her back then?

At the time, she was an intern, and I was the department manager. I remembered she was always the first to arrive at work and the last to leave. Back then, I just thought she was really diligent.

That was until one late night, when I was gaming with my friends at a hotel and had ordered some late-night food.

I opened the door and saw Jean, breathless and worn out from rushing here, handing me the delivery.

When she recognized me, she gave a sheepish smile. Her eyes curved like crescent moons, and shallow dimples appeared on her slightly chubby cheeks.

Before I could say a word, she raised her phone and waved it slightly, signaling that she had to rush off for the next delivery.

Watching her petite silhouette as she hurried away, a pang of affection stirred in my heart.

I started assigning some of the better clients to her. She really rose to the occasion, her performance improving steadily. It wasn't long before she became the department's top performer.