This Crazy Rich Boy - Chapter 97

Gabriel Tan’s people have worked long enough for him that sometimes, during emergencies like this, you no longer have to issue an order or tell them to do this and that. They already know. For instance, Claire’s service vehicle is already waiting for her in the foyer, the chauffeur opening the door as soon as she steps out of the building. Lopez must have called Dale, and Dale coordinated quickly, knowing Claire would immediately want to go to the hospital where Gabriel is.

Michelle was in her office when Claire left; Claire didn’t bother to tell her because, after all, what for? But she let Mrs. Gomez the receptionist know. Mrs. Gomez blanched when she heard about it. “Jesus, what happened to him?” Mrs. Gomez says, then follows it quickly with a whispered, “Does this mean Gabriel Tan is human, after all?”

Claire lets the comment pass. Mrs. Gomez has known Gabriel’s temper long enough to have grown jaded by it.

“I’m sorry, Miss Claire,” Dean, her chauffeur, says as he drives. “But I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“Thank you,” she says. Her mind is wracked by the worst images possible related to Gabriel. Her heart feels like it’s drowning. “Can you drive faster?”

“I’m driving as fast as the legal limit in this city’s streets, Miss Claire. But don’t worry, we’ll be there in a few minutes. I’m not seeing heavy traffic anywhere.”

Claire looks out the window, at the towering structures that zip past them. It’s still early in the morning. Usually, at this hour, Gabriel would be in his office, enjoying his coffee and croissant, reading business news or having a conference with his people. Today, he’s somewhere in a sad room in some hospital in this city, oblivious to what’s happening in the world. She tries hard not to go there in that place where she thinks he’s gone and would never come back. There’s something about his butler’s words—”found him unconscious in his room”—that just frightened her to the core of her being. It has never happened to her or to her loved ones, being found unconscious. She doesn’t know how that happens. She only understand the implications: if you’re found unconscious, something must be very, very wrong with you.

“Here we are, Miss Claire.” Dean’s voice jolts her out of her reverie.

“Thanks, Dean. Don’t wait for me.”

“Won’t you come home later?”

I’ll never leave this hospital as long as Gabriel’s here, is what she wants to say. “I’ll be fine.”

Dean looks at her uncertainly. He nods. “I will let Dale know, Miss Claire. He will know what to do.”

She smiles. She half-runs to the hospital’s reception, who tells her where Gabriel Tan is: Medical ICU Room 233.

The hospital’s aircon blast is exceedingly icy, and the pervading smell of antiseptic doesn’t help, either. It only adds to her growing sense of impending doom. It’s a miracle she could still stand; Claire is so emotionally vulnerable like this that she has to hold on to her sense of duty just to remain functional.

There’s a small waiting area outside each ICU room, where he finds Miguel fidgeting. His face lights up upon seeing her.

“I came as soon as I heard,” he says.

“What happened?” Her voice is hoarse.

“I’m not sure. The butler found him. He was supposed to have an early breakfast, and when he didn’t go out of his room, the butler checked on him. He found Gab on the floor, face-down, unconscious. He immediately called up the emergency hotline, which quickly sent an ambulance. The butler says it all happened within ten minutes, but he doesn’t know how long Gabriel had been lying there.”

“What time did the butler say he found Gab?”

“A quarter to seven, I think.”

Claire makes a quick mental calculation. “Gabriel called me up at six. We had a little talk. Then we hung up at half past six.” She sighs. “Then he hadn’t been lying unconscious for too long.”

“He called you up that early?” Miguel has his mind on the seemingly too-early phone call than on his brother’s welfare. “Why would he call you at that hour?”

Claire gives him a quizzical look. “He reminded me of Michelle’s first day. We had a quick phone meeting.” She doesn’t mention that FaceTime accident—Miguel doesn’t need to know that.

“I see,” he mutters, gazing at her meaningfully.

“Have you spoken to any doctor?” she says.

“Not yet,” he says. “I came ahead of you by only a few minutes.”

The ICU’s door has a small glass window. Claire peeks through it. Her heart almost breaks as she sees the figure on the bed, surrounded by a few nurses and a doctor. Gabriel has tubes attached to him, but thankfully, he is not intubated.

After a while, the door opens and the doctor walks out. His eyes immediately seek them out.

“Are you the next of kin?” The doctor says, removing his face mask.

“I am,” Miguel says. “How is he, Doc?”

“Well,” the doctor begins. “It’s hard to tell yet because we’re still waiting for the results of his tests. We did some blood work. We checked his vital signs. He’s fine, so far.”

“Is it serious?” Claire couldn’t help but ask.

“We don’t know yet, but for now, his vital signs are fine. But he has a high fever that we’re managing with meds. We don’t know if he has an infection, but he has flu-like symptoms.”

“My brother is usually fit,” Miguel says. “I don’t understand how flu could knock him out just like that.”

“That’s what we’re trying to look into,” the doctor says. “He’s not fully unconscious. He woke up briefly when they brought him here. He only fell asleep from all the meds. Once the blood work results return, we’d know if he has an infection, which we’ll treat immediately. But right now, he’s no longer dehydrated, he’s getting IVs of medicines to manage his symptoms.” The doctor smiles. “He’ll be fine.”

Claire, for the first time since she arrived here, breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank God!”

Miguel glances at her. He turns to the doctor. “Thank you, Doc. If there is any update on his condition, we’ll be here.”

“Don’t worry,” the doctor says. “Mr. Tan is one of this hospital’s major donors. We even named a hospital wing after him. We have our top people on him at all hours. See there? He always has a nurse beside him at all times.”

“Can we come in?” Claire says. “Can I hold his hand?”

At that, Miguel’s brow knits as he throws Claire a glance. Hold Gabriel’s hand?

“I wouldn’t advise that. We need to protect Gabriel from any possible further infection, as long as we don’t know his exact condition. But give us time. We’ll know soon. For now, I’d ask for your understanding. We don’t want to compromise Mr. Tan’s welfare, do we?”

“Yes, Doc,” Miguel says, still looking at Claire, trying to read her face.

“All right,” the doctor says. “Speak to you later.”

They both watch the doctor as he walks away. Then Miguel turns to her. “Can I ask you something, Claire?”

Claire nods. “What is it?”

He gazes at her. “It’s just that, I’m wondering. He’s just your boss, right?” A pause. “Why would you want to hold his hand?”