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5__Intrusions

Marc watched Amelia, studying her closely. He could sense her hesitation, but it was difficult to read her expression. Her gold eyes were fixed and unflinching, making it impossible to know what she was thinking.

“Marry you,” she said, her tone flat and unenthusiastic. “What a great idea.”

Hope and hesitance stirred within him. “You really think so?” he asked, but her face remained expressionless.

Suddenly, her lips curled into a cold, sarcastic smile. “If you're done amusing yourself, Mr. Aryan, may I leave?”

He was puzzled. “But you didn't answer—”

“I have work to do!” she interrupted, her eyes flashing with anger.

He realized that he had made her angry. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—”

“What is wrong with you?” Amelia cut him off. “Your son is sick, and you have time for jokes?!”

He needed to explain quickly before her misunderstanding grew. “I'm not joking, I'm not mocking you, I…” He trailed off, struggling to find the right words.

Amelia watched him with a doubtful frown on her face. “If you've got nothing to say, I'll take my leave.”

“James and I need to leave the hospital soon, but he still needs care. Right now, you're the only person who can calm him down. He's afraid of me…” Marc stepped closer, desperation in his voice. “Please, Dr. Parker.”

Amelia crossed her arms, unconvinced. “There's no reason why taking care of Jamie would require that I marry you. I'm not one of those girls who swoon over celebrities like you.”

Marc was confused. “I'm not a celebrity. I'm a trained chemical engineer and CEO.”

Amelia rolled her eyes. “Obviously, that's why there are reporters outside waiting for you. You're famous for being the heir to Aryan Gold. Haven't you seen yourself in all the tabloids?”

She stopped herself before she said anything more. Marrying him was the least funny joke she had ever heard.

With a huff, Amelia checked on Jamie, who was still asleep. She then noticed the medication on the tray. That wasn't Jamie's. She looked at Marc. “Take your medication. Delusion isn't a symptom of your injuries, but the medication still might help cure you of it.”

Marc narrowed his eyes. “Is that sarcasm?”

Amelia cleared her throat. “Take it as you will.” With that, she walked past him and left the hospital room.

As Amelia marched away, the cool air of the hallway calmed her down. She tried not to think about the past, but Marc Aryan was prodding her memories with an annoying stick. She wished he would leave the hospital and transfer to a better place, but she couldn't risk leaving Jamie's care to someone else.

There was no way around it. She would have to do her best to help treat Jamie so that Marc could leave as soon as possible.


The hoarse voice on the phone laughed heartily. “What? I’m a grandpa?!”

Amelia stared blankly at her reflection in her bathroom mirror. “Jeffery Jules Parker. This is not a laughing matter.”

Her father laughed even louder and Amelia could swear he’d just fallen off his chair. A scoff escaped her as her mouth spread into a hesitant smile. It had been 3 weeks since her father disappeared on one of his camping trips and he’d finally returned. Venting to him was so healing.

But trust her father to laugh when she was hopping mad.

“Oh, God,” he muttered, laughing hoarsely. “I’ve just fallen off me bloody chair.” She laughed at that, shaking her head. “So, what? He wants you as his mummy now, is that it?”

She sighed, carefully putting a sheet mask onto her face. “He's just confused. It's all so bizarre.”

“Oh, come now, darling, it isn’t that difficult,” her father said. “You’re amazing at your job, you keep helping him and the lad’ll probably come around once his head injury’s all healed.”

She pursed her lips and glanced at her phone. “Yeah, I was patiently waiting for that, but then something happened today.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“It was a bad joke, but his father said something about me marrying him.”

“You marrying the lad?”

“No, the father! God, dad!”

“Right, right, the dad!” He laughed.

“The child’s six years old!”

Her father gasped. “You’re twenty-four, would’ve had him at eighteen.”

She scoffed at the phone with wide eyes. “Uh?! Why are we even calculating??”

“Okay, anyway, so his Da’ wants you to marry him? Be the step-mum? I don’t approve.”

“Neither do I, don’t worry,” she murmured wryly.

She sighed, patting serum into the sheet mask. She had left out several details. Like the giant detail that the man and child she was talking about were from the Aryan family. Amelia didn’t need to reopen her father’s healed wounds, she’d keep that information to herself.

“Alright, darling, let me call you back soon…”

She frowned. “Huh? Why, this is our first time talking since you returned to civilisation.”

He chuckled. ‘I’m sorry, pumpkin. I’ve just gotten a message from Ms. Annie. I think I’ve got to go.”

Amelia’s heart sunk. “No. Don’t go. Tell her to call the police.”

“Come on, love, you know Dad’s the only friend Ms Annie can count on. I’ll go and make sure she’s alright.”

Releasing an exasperated sigh, Amelia shook her head. “Dad—”

“I love you, pumpkin, chat later.”

The line went dead and she groaned with frustration. Her father had just returned and already he was getting himself involved in problems.

Grabbing her phone, she left her bathroom and went into the adjoined bedroom to lay on her bed.

Ms Annie was a lady who’d been friends with both of Amelia’s parents. That was… before her mother had passed away.

The lady had always benefitted greatly from her parents’ kindness for as long as Amelia could remember. She was in an abusive marriage with some weird creature, because Amelia refused to call that thing a man.

Once Amelia’s mother had died, Ms Annie became even more reliant on her father. Being the kind of person he was, far too kind, someone unable to say no, her father had gone to her rescue every time she called.

Amelia was about sick of it. She wasn’t sick of her father helping Ms Annie, she was sick of his help never changing anything in the woman’s life. No matter how much her parents helped her and got her away from her abusive husband, the woman always went back.

Several times, her father had gotten into fights with the man and the police had gotten involved. Amelia was tired of it. Still, the woman wouldn’t leave her husband and continued to use her father to deposit her emotional baggage.

She would cry for help and once her father had gone to her rescue, Ms Annie’s next step was always to make excuses for her husband and go back because “he couldn’t possibly survive” without her. That had been happening for over ten years now.

Amelia sighed. The drama of it all. If the creature she was married to dropped dead, it would solve all their problems.

Ignoring the homicidal nature of her thoughts, she stared blankly at the ceiling for fifteen minutes and then rolled out of bed, patting her face mask as she left the bedroom.

She wanted to call in and check on Jamie even though she was off work. It didn’t mean she was a workaholic, she only wanted to make sure her most critical patient was alright.

Done justifying herself, Amelia made her way downstairs, humming in the silence of her apartment.

Amelia froze when she heard a knock on the door.

She looked at the door, a frown creasing her forehead.

She wondered who it could be. She didn't order anything, and her neighbors always kept to themselves.

A sudden thought occurred to her, but she quickly shook it off and walked towards the door.

She told herself that there was no way it could be Marc Aryan knocking. This wasn't some romance novel where the male lead appears at the female lead's door at random moments of the night.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled open the door and found herself face to face with Marc Aryan. He had sea-green eyes that stared down at her, and he greeted her with a polite

"Good evening."

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