Becoming strangers again (Lily and Ryan)



LILY

The following morning, Ryan left for New York once again, leaving me behind because the boys needed to attend school the next day. We made a plan, though, that I would travel down with them over the weekend.

As I pulled up to the hospital, my emotions hit rock bottom. Richard, despite his imperfections, had been an exceptional father-in-law, and learning that he had been found dead in his office was a heavy blow.

Stepping out of my car, my eyes were swollen from crying all night over Richard's death. Although Ryan didn't shed a single tear, I knew he was deeply affected. He had held me so tightly throughout the night before catching the first flight out in the morning.

"How long do I have to hold this?" a familiar voice demanded.

Blinking slowly, I gazed at the elevator, trying to shake off the fog in my mind, and that's when it dawned on me that Amell was standing there, holding down the button to keep the doors from closing. He must have been standing there for a while, waiting patiently-or maybe not so patiently, knowing Amell.

Realizing I was holding him up, I hurried my steps, rushing to get into the elevator before he lost his temper. "I'm sorry," I mumbled under my breath, not really looking at him. "I didn't realize you were waiting for me."

He released the button with a dramatic sigh and then slipped his hand into his pocket, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I didn't think you had it in you to sincerely apologize," he said with that familiar hint of sarcasm in his voice.

I wasn't in the mood to deal with his attitude, not today, not after everything that had happened. I chose to ignore him, not wanting to engage in another one of our usual back-and-forths. Instead, I reached into my bag, fishing out my phone to check the time. Ryan hadn't arrived in New York yet.NôvelDrama.Org copyrighted © content.

Out of nowhere, Amell's voice cut through the silence again, but this time it was softer, almost... concerned. "Are you okay?" he asked, his tone unexpectedly gentle.

I turned to look at him, genuinely surprised by his sudden show of concern. It wasn't like Amell to ask questions like that. "I didn't realize you had it in you to care," I replied with sarcasm. "But I'm fine."

He chuckled softly. "For a moment there, I thought your sassy self was back," he remarked, a hint of teasing in his tone. I decided not to respond, keeping my gaze fixed on my phone, pretending to be engrossed in something far more interesting than Amell's antics.

He didn't seem deterred by my silence. "You know, if you ever want to talk, you can always reach out to me. I'm a good listener," he continued.

I shot him a sideways glance, my skepticism evident. Was he being serious right now? "And why exactly would I want to talk to you?" I asked, my tone flat and unamused.

He shrugged casually, leaning against the elevator wall. "Talking to a stranger is sometimes the best option. I've been told I'm a great listener and that I give pretty solid advice," he replied with a nonchalant air, as if he were merely stating a fact.

I stared at him, dumbfounded, unsure of how to respond to this bizarre offer. Thankfully, at that moment, the elevator chimed, signaling that we had reached his floor. The doors slid open, revealing a bustling corridor, but Amell made no move to step out. He simply stood there, looking at me with that unreadable expression on his face.

"Aren't you getting off?" I prompted, hoping to hasten his departure.

He glanced at the open door, then back at me, chuckling again. "You know where to find me if you change your mind," he said, a playful grin spreading across his face as he finally stepped out. The doors closed behind him almost instantly, sealing me back in the elevator as it continued its ascent to my floor.

*************

Seven hours had dragged by at work, and Ryan still wasn't answering my calls. I had tried reaching him countless times, dialing his number over and over, but each attempt ended the same way-with no answer.

I needed to know what was going on. Why wasn't he picking up? Frustrated, I decided to try a different approach and dialed Angelo's number instead. He answered almost immediately.

"Angelo? How is Ryan?" I blurted out, foregoing any formalities. I didn't have the patience for small talk right now.

"He's coping," Angelo replied. "He's trying to stay strong, mostly for his mother's sake. It's been hard on him."

I nodded, even though he couldn't see me. That sounded like Ryan-always the pillar, the one trying to keep it all together for everyone else. But I needed to know more. I needed to know if Richard had died of natural causes or if there was something more sinister at play.

Angelo wasn't the right person to ask about that, though. "Is Ryan close by? Can you pass him the phone, please? I've been trying to reach him, but he's not answering."

“Of course," Angelo said. I heard the soft shuffle of footsteps through the line, followed by his voice speaking to someone. “I'm sorry to interrupt, sir, but your wife is on the phone, and she wants to speak to you."

There was a moment of silence before I finally heard Ryan's voice, muffled and distant. "Please excuse me, gentlemen," he said, his tone polite. More shuffling sounds came through the receiver, and then, at last, I heard his voice clearly in my ear. “Lily?" he said, his voice sounding tired and strained. I exhaled in relief the moment I heard his voice. "Ryan, I've been trying to reach you," I said, my words rushing out with pent-up worry.

He let out a weary sigh, the exhaustion evident in his tone. "I'm sorry I haven't been answering. Things have been really crazy here at the estate, with the cops all over the place and people coming by to offer their condolences," he explained.

I could picture the chaos he was dealing with. “How are you holding up—”

"Lily," he cut me off gently, "can we talk later tonight when things have calmed down a bit... please?"

Just then, the door to my office creaked open, and my secretary stepped inside. Her presence was a clear sign that I had work to attend to. I glanced at her and then back at the phone. "Sure," I replied softly. "I'll call you later tonight. And, Ryan, please... take my calls."

"I will," he promised, his voice soft but sincere.

"I love y―" I started to say, but the

line went dead before I could finish. I pulled the phone away from my ear, a frustrated sigh escaping my lips nearly scoffed at the abrupt end of the conversation but quickly caught myself, remembering that my secretary was still in the room. "What do you want?" I asked, my tone more clipped than I intended.

“Dr. Amell is performing his first surgery today," my secretary began. “And as you know, it's hospital policy that you observe him through the screen." I wasn't in the mood to monitor any surgery, especially today. The weight of everything that had happened was pressing down on me, and the last thing I wanted was to be stuck in a room watching Amell perform his first surgery. "I'll join them soon," I said, trying to muster some enthusiasm. She nodded, turning to leave, but I stopped her.

“Oh, and he prefers to be referred to as Dr. Windsor,” I added, almost as an afterthought.

Grace tilted her head, a puzzled look on her face. "Actually, he specifically told me to call him Dr. Amell."

That bastard, I thought, my irritation flaring up again. Was he flirting with my secretary now? "Just you?" I asked, trying to keep my voice even.

She shook her head. "No, me and a few other nurses and doctors," she replied. "I was in the staff room to submit a file, and I ran into him there with some others. I greeted him as Dr. Windsor, but he told me to address him as Dr. Amell."

“It's fine,” I said, waving off the conversation. "Go on ahead; I'll join them soon." As Grace walked away, I picked up my phone and quickly typed out a text to Ryan, reminding him that I loved him and that I would always be there for him, no matter what.

I slipped the phone back into my pocket and grabbed my doctor's coat from the back of my chair.

With a deep breath, I left my office and made my way toward the observation room adjacent to the operating room. As I entered, I noticed the other hospital administrators standing up as a sign of respect. I nodded, signaling for them to sit back down, and took a seat at the front.

Once settled, I glanced up at the large screen displaying the operation in progress, then shifted my gaze to the glass window separating us from Dr. Amell and his surgical team. There he was, right in the center of the room, orchestrating the procedure with the confidence of someone who had done this a thousand times before.

To my annoyance, the arrogant man had the audacity to wave at me as if we were old friends. I pretended not to see him, keeping my expression neutral and my eyes on the screen, but I could have sworn I saw a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth-a silent chuckle at my expense.

The surgery stretched on for over twelve hours, but thankfully, it ended successfully. As soon as Dr. Amell signaled that he was done, I quietly got up and walked out.

By the time I made it to my office, it was almost my regular closing time, but I had been called in for an emergency surgery, which had delayed me

further.

Upon arriving home, the first thing I

did was head straight for the

avelmy

shower, hoping the warm water would help wash away the fatigue of the day. Afterward, I checked on kids and found them happily engrossed in their drawing activities, their little faces concentrating on their masterpieces. While we waited for dinner, I tried calling Ryan again, but he didn't answer.

Dinner was finally ready, and we all sat down to eat. The boys watched some TV for an hour afterward. Once they were tucked into bed, I finally had a moment to myself. I sank onto my bed, wrapped myself in a duyet, and dialed Ryan's number once more. I called seven times, growing increasingly frustrated with each unanswered ring. Even when he didn't pick up, I continued calling, hoping against hope for a response. Eventually, the exhaustion caught up with me, and I drifted off to sleep with the phone still pressed to my ear.