—nine—
the precautions
ARTHUR HAD ONCE read that over seventy percent of your bodily systems are utilized during an anxiety disorder.
But when he'd woken up to what would come to be known as the most distressful time of his life, that seventy percent had escalated twice the amount of that havoc currently wracking his body. It didn't necessarily mean that he was suffering from such condition, but even he couldn't understand the things that were running inside his head. He was beside himself, his nails were practically chipping away, and his heart was wildly hammering inside his chest as he waited for help.
He could've walked out of the door and scream for Paige's immediate assistance, but that in itself was already giving him an anxiety attack, as simple as the wish was. Because even at the bout of emergency, he still had to protect her in some other way.
It took him more or less ten minutes to think of another way to help her. But emergencies are always an unforeseen crisis, as expected, so there would always be an interval in between the location of the patient and the rescuer's trip to the ones in need.
He was glad he'd taken elementary first aid training since Archer was pretty adamant that they'd take it together; Archer was one of the stockholders of the Richter Cruise Lines, and though he didn't go on a cruise that much−because he was too engaged with work as one of the board of directors−he'd wanted to educate himself about the seafarers' experience before they join on board.
Checking the breathing, doing head-to-toe examination, and performing CPR were included on their training. But it was almost like a year ago and he wasn't sure if he'd done it right.
It was quite a relief, though, when he was certain Paige didn't need resuscitation whatsoever.
So that was what he'd done first, before carrying Paige to her bed and eased her there in a recovery position to keep her airways clear, just in case. And then he'd almost dialed 911, but that would raise suspicion for obvious reasons. It would defeat the purpose of him hiding in her bedroom−and just imagine what her family would think.
But he couldn't just let the moment pass by with her being unconscious, could he?
Think, think, think, he'd chanted.
He'd thought of Cain, and or Jouwee. But that would be an unrealistic call for help, given that it was already one in the morning. They were definitely sleeping their butts off.
He'd scanned down a little more on his phone. Then one name suddenly came to mind.
And he'd almost hooted in mirth, if only he hadn't remembered the situation at hand. Arthur had cursed under his breath instead.
Aoife (pronounced as 'ee-fa') had worked for Archer long ago. He only had three people at bay which he'd always trusted. Two retainers and a driver. One of the servants at the time−was Aoife.
But he'd gotten more and more busy and he wasn't almost always at home; and so he decided to let Aiofe go, since the other one had been serving his family for years, and he didn't need much help at his place anyway.
Archer was quite pensive for some reason, but he was glad The Cadwyns took her in. The six degree of separation likely didn't occur to the upper crust in their city. For them, it wasn't just coming together with the minds and the giants from another thriving companies, it was also important for businesses to gain networks for future collaborations and projects.
That was how it went for Aoife−Archer letting her go, just in time The Cadwyns needed extra hands.
The other person had groaned from the other line, the last few rhythm of her sleep evident in her voice. "Who's this?"
"Aoife, it's Arthur."
"Arthur? As in Mister Arthur Arthur?" She yawned immediately after that like she had all the time in the world to drag the conversation on.
He sighed and droned on, "Yes. That Arthur. And drop the formalities, please."
"What's up?" Her voice had perked up then as she regained half of her comprehension. She paused for a split second and blurted, "Jeez, it's too early for this. You clearly need something. What is it?"
"Sorry for calling in such an ungodly hour, but listen, it's Paige and I'm here in her bedroom. It's a long story−" he prompted, when Aoife was about to bombard him with hundreds of questions, "I need you to come here and help me throw her body−"
"What did y−"
"I'm kidding." He grinned for a moment. "She fainted and I need you to bring some medicines for her. But you have to be stealthy. No one knows but her−and now you, that I'm here."
"I'll just bring her water. Pretty sure she keeps her medicines in one of her drawers." The phone made rustling sounds which was coming from the other line, and Arthur had pictured her peeling off her blanket and moving around.
But that wasn't the reason why he had a deep frown on his forehead. "What d'you mean?"
Alas, Aoife said she was on her way and then the line went dead.
After a moment or so, he heard a soft knock against the door, and then he opened it like he couldn't open it so fast enough that Aoife all but blinked minutely. He watched how her hair fractionally flew away before letting her through, ignoring the inquisitive scowl on her face.
Before closing the door, Arthur carefully peered outside to check if someone was around. Coast was clear.
Arthur simply pushed his hands into his pockets as he anxiously followed Aoife's actions, who was cautiously placing the pitch of water and a glass atop the bedside table, peering sideways to the sleeping Paige.
"What did you mean by that?"
"What?" asked Aoife distractedly, pulling out a drawer from Paige's vanity. After picking the right remedy, she fished it out and turned to him. "About this?" she held the bottle up, walking towards Paige's bed after Arthur nodded, "She's been feeling sick lately. It's her stomach. She thought it's just a simple stomachache or of some sort. But she's experiencing constant pains and her medicines don't seem to do the trick. It's a good alternative when she wants to tone it down; but the effect, I think, doesn't really last long."
A pit in Arthur's own stomach suddenly occurred. "Did she already see a doctor, though?"
Aoife shrugged while she whispered Paige's name. "I don't know," she responded, pausing from trying to wake up Paige and straightened up. "We all assume she hates to visit hospitals. It reminds her of her grandfather when he fell terribly ill. She loves her dearly."
"I understand."
"Hold on−what're you doing here, really?"
He went still for a moment, thinking of ways on how to start this. Scratching the side of his head, he let out a sigh. "She's my girlfriend and I wanted to see her and I also don't want to see Archer right now so..."
"Wait, what?"
"I wanted to see her and I don't want to see Archer's face at the moment−"
She blinked. "Wait, no. We'll get into that later. Backtrack a little bit."
Arthur's frown deepened, crossing his arms. "She's my girlfriend?"
"That." Running a hand through her blonde locks, she put one hand to her hips as if she were his older sister. Arthur was twenty-one while Aoife just turned twenty-four. He also thought she had the hots for Archer and he kept on jeering her about it, and that made them rather friends, add the fact that they'd known each other for quite sometime now. "Why?"
"What d'you mean why? Because I like her?" he responded with incredulity, one eyebrow shooting up his forehead.
Aoife shook her head and breathed out a sigh of what he could only describe as exasperation. "What happened to you and Lola?"
Her eyes widened, fractionally looking at Paige, for fear of being heard. This wasn't the place and time to talk about it, but she hadn't seen him for months. It appeared, to him, that there would be no next time and so she probably felt the need to talk to him now.
"Wouldn't work." Arthur shrugged nonchalantly, his expression too vague for Aoife to read.
"But you were clearly in love with her!" her voice was low, her irritation was not. "Does she−does she know...?"
He looked at her meaningfully. "About everything?" He gulped for a moment, avoiding her eyes as he did so, before adding, "No. And I don't plan on telling her anyway."
Aoife gaped at him like his nose was horizontally placed on his face. Panting in disbelief, she crossed her arms on her chest and muttered, "Wow. She's a rebound, isn't she?" When he didn't budge, she shook her head in dismay. "You're unbelievable, Art. See, I've known you for quite a long time and that's something, but I don't approve of you breaking her heart. She's one of the kindest girls I know; she doesn't deserve any of your bullshit. Be honest with her, that's all I'm saying."
He clenched his jaw. "But I like her."
"That doesn't matter," Aoife slowly disputed, one hand mid-air to emphasize her point. Ever the dominant girl. "You're still clearly head over heels in love with Lola and everything. You're only dragging her into a world full of lies. If you can't be honest with her, end the relationship while it's still early. I don't care if we're friends−you hurt her, I will break your face."
Arthur smirked. "Yikes."
Aoife's face turned grave. "I'm serious."
One hand of Arthur's sifted through his hair, before it fell down again at the sides of his face. He kept his mouth shut, feeling like sprinting into space.
He gazed at the lady on the bed, who was serenely traveling to dreamland. He didn't lie that he liked the girl. But Aoife was right, too.
He was deviating Paige away from the truth. And it was only a matter of time−
−that he would break her heart in two.
﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
It was past six in the morning when Paige woke up, her lashes heavy as she stared at the ceiling blinkingly. Her thoughts were blank for a second, stretching groggily as she let her mind reorient about the things that had happened the day before.
And sat up.
Frowning, seeing that the couch by the window was nothing but a vacated place, she couldn't stop the beginnings of the knot forming inside her gut. The fact that the throw pillows and the spare blanket had been arranged in a way that made the sudden abandonment felt more real turned Paige's lips into a saddened one.
Someone had knocked on the door but she couldn't even begin to say something. Somehow, she was still disoriented.
Aoife's eyes widened marginally as she regarded her with concern, one hand stiff around the brass handle of the door. "Paige."
"Good morning, Aiofe," she greeted, as Aiofe trod towards her bed. The latter mouthed the same greeting in return.
Both were silent−Paige just watched her tinkering on her bedside table, putting her breakfast down. She'd wondered then how Arthur managed to leave without telling her. Or if Aoife knew something.
Aiofe's gaze was filled with meaning, Paige could tell.
"He wants me to give you this," started Aiofe, handing her a folded paper which was carved with letters from the inside out.
Paige furrowed her eyebrows when she realized one thing. "Wait−how did you...? How did he end up meeting you?" The increasing anxiety was now written all over her face. "Did he start knocking everyone's doors?!"
Aoife's lips tugged up in mirth, shaking her head to assuage her. "No, he called me for help."
"How..."
"Do you know Archer from the Richter Cruise Lines?"
She stilled for a moment and her mind searched for an Archer. Paige nodded in return. "Yes. He's one of Owen's good friends."
"Well, I've worked for him before you. I know Arthur because of him and he remembered that I'm already here with you."
Paige nodded understandingly before she brightened up with a smile, mouthing her gratitude. Initially, she didn't know if she would keep her relationship with Arthur a secret or tell her family about it. She was still undecided, that was for sure, but she was quite amused that someone in the house already knew about her love-life. It was, in some way, liberating.
"Paige, um..."
She waited expectantly, as she watched Aoife bearing an unreadable expression. "Yes? Do you wanna say something?"
Aiofe licked her lips, eyes flickering in what looked like reconsideration. Paige prompted her in a nod, but not even a second later passed when Aiofe shook her head instead. "Nothing. Just, um−enjoy your breakfast. I'll leave you to it."
Paige frowned as Aoife finally turned away and headed for the door.
Once she was out of sight, Paige opened Arthur's letter, a sweet smile gracing her face. It was a shame, though, that she wasn't able to bade him goodbye.
Hey, you. I hope that by the time you're able to read this, you're already doing fine. I'm sorry for leaving so soon. I was worried sick, you know? I never wanted to see you in pain like that again. I know that you hate to swing by the hospital, but you should see a doctor. I'll come with you, if you want.
Anyways, I'll see you at campus? Can't wait to see you.
Art x
She held the piece of paper dearly against her chest, a lilt of lovesome smile playing across her lips, with cheeks flushing bright red in sheer merriment.
She turned to the side, looking out of the window and at the white cottons suspended in the air.
Her stomach was becoming more and more aggravating to her, suffice to say. But at least her love life was going well so far, she thought.