Chapter 20: Chapter 20

I walk toward the receptionist's area, a sense of self-mockery poking at my conscience. I spit out the words of kind rejection several times to Ella, only to find myself swallowing my own puke. I told her I didn't want any woman in my life, embarrassing her even. But now I am here, walking into the last place I'd ever set my feet into. However, I need to do this – Yen prompting me into this.

Last night at the hotel, I remember myself fuming in embarrassment deep inside. That eccentric Dennis unconsciously exposed me through his tactlessness. His words still reverberate in my mind even as my eyes were on the receptionist.

"From now on, you'll keep coming here to see your inspiration," his teasing voice now taunts me again, playing like a broken tape. Damn that latte art, Dennis is right!

"Good morning, sir! May I help you?" says the receptionist, interrupting my thoughts.

"Please tell Miss Ella Sahara that someone wants to talk to her."

"Your name please, sir?"

"Zedrick Ramos."

I watch the lady as she picks up the phone, her fingers dancing shortly on the dial pad. I hear the ringings, but she doesn't pick up. The receptionist glances at me then rings her again. Still, no answer from Ella.

I start to worry. Ella is not in good emotional shape, her episodes of vomiting worsening her status.

"Perhaps, she's still asleep," the lady says, smiling like she's a hundred percent sure of her conclusion. I raise my arm, glancing at my watch. It's already past eleven in the morning.

"Miss Ella is not feeling well. Just let me go to her," I tell her, my tone commanding.

"I'm sorry, sir. But we have to wait until Miss Sahara gives her permission," she reasons out, but her fingers press on the redial button. I can see her well because I am tall enough to see past the sleek reception bar.

"I know, but what if she has collapsed and is unable to answer? What if she needs help?" With the scenario I cite, my thoughts get even worse. I envision her cold body at the back of my mind, lying lifeless on the floor. Chills run down my spine, making my hair stand on its ends.

"But sir-"

"No "but", please. I was the one who brought her here last night, and she was very ill. I was also the one who booked the room. You can check it on your record." My brows already pull into a frown, my own imagination scaring me.

Ella looks strong, but what if it's all a facade? What if she's suicidal? What she told me about her anger and her coming here to destroy someone might indicate her suicidal tendencies. What if behind that anger, she's already frustrated, and that frustration will prompt her to end her life?

"I'll ring her one more time." I sigh. I can't lose my temper because she is right. But I am already cursing her deep inside. It sounds absurd to feel this way, but I don't know why my fear seems real.

When the prolonged ringing ends and short, consecutive beeps follow, I sprint towards the stairs. I can no longer wait until the receptionist changes her mind. However, when I arrive at Ella's door, a hotel staff member already stands by the door frame.

"She still doesn't answer," the staff informs.

"Open the door," I demand; my short breaths can't allow me to speak more.

I almost snatch the key card when the staff moves like a turtle. A voice in my mind persistently tells me something is wrong. Somehow, I can't blame it on the boost of caffeine I have been indulging in since past midnight.

I jump inside the room once the opportunity strikes, pushing the staff aside. My eyes immediately scan for Ella, but she's not in the mini living room. I proceed to the bedroom, taking long strides, but she's not there, either.

"Perhaps, she's in the bathroom," the attendant says behind me. I already forgot that he exists.

I sprint to the bathroom, feeling the chills running up and down my spine. I see Ella right away, slumping on the floor with her head on top of his folded knees. She's in a total mess, her pool of puke matting on the tiled bathroom floor.

"Ella," I call her, my voice cracking already in obvious panic. She looks up; her face smeared with dried and recent tears. "What's wrong?"

She moves her head to the side, brushing away her tears with her hands. But her slender fingers move too slow, making more tears escape from her bloodshot eyes.

"Why are you here?" she says. "You hate to be with a woman." She forces a chuckle that sounds like scorn.

I freeze. For some moments, I lose the strength to lift my limbs toward her. I glance over my shoulder and see the attendant standing by the door frame. I wave a hand, telling him to go away.

"Yen is expecting us." I don't have to explain. Ella knows Yen is convinced that she's my live-in partner.

"Ah, that. Give me a moment. I'll be fast." She rises to her feet, grabbing the showerhead to flush away her vomitus.

"But Ella, you're not well. We can go there some other time."

I can see she's not well, just as my intuition tells. Her eyebags swell and her lids look heavy. It seems like she has not slept in ages; her gaze seems exhausted, her hair in tangles. At the sound of the slightest sympathy, she drops onto the floor again,  breaking into a pained and bitter cry.

I squat beside her, pulling her close to me. With her chin resting on top of my shoulders, I allow her to sob until she gets too tired to continue. After some time, she finally speaks.

"Why can't I be happy? All my life, I have been longing for complete happiness."

I shut my mouth; a depressed person needs advice but a listening ear.

"Mother passed away early. I also grew up with a father who couldn't be with us. He put mom and me in place far from his world. And we never got the chance to be together because they both left. So you see, I couldn't even attend his funeral."

I rub her back, urging her to go ahead. But I wonder what kept his father apart from her.

"Then, I met this man when I was taking up my master's degree in Cambridge. He makes me happy, but still, I can't be in his world. He's like dad."

"Every time he's somewhere close, he always asks me to fly and meet him. But the meeting was still restricted. However, I didn't mind. Because I kept believing we would be free someday."

She sniffs and I continue moving my hand on her back, letting her know I am listening.

"But lately, he couldn't be reached/ Then, I saw his name in a tabloid -- sentenced to a lifetime imprisonment."

I pull away from her, holding her at arm's length. Then, looking into her eyes, I let her know I am curious.

"Someone submits the evidence to the court after five years of silence."

"So, he is guilty?" I finally open my mouth to speak.

"Yes, but he was silent for five years. Why does he show himself now? My boyfriend and I would have been happy with our child. And besides, James was still young when he committed the crime."

James. My heart immediately hammers against my chest. I hope he's not the same James I pushed behind bars after releasing the evidence of his crime.

"So, that's why you can't be with him," I conclude. I also get the cue that her father and her boyfriend both come from the underworld.

She nods and presses her lips into a bitter smile -- her hands stroking her lower abdomen. "This baby will live like me, away from his or her dad."

"Why Ella? You can always visit him together with your child."

She shakes her head again. "People shouldn't know I exist. Or, I'll be the one paying for his sins. He also shuts me out, not allowing me to visit him anymore."

Her words move me. And I see her boyfriend loves her truly. He shuts her out from his world to set her free. So that she can start a new life and not rot away with him. I then wonder if James knows they have a child on the way.

"Ella, where is James detained?"

"In Japan."

I hurriedly utter a silent prayer, my heart pounding furiously. Lord of wisdom and knowledge, let this just be a coincidence!