Gossip
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30 MINUTE'S LATER
I parked my car and swiftly rushed out of the car heading inside the hospital, I'm so pressed that if I don't use the restroom anytime soon...... I might just end up urinating on my body.
"Good morning, Doctor Kim"The nurses and some of my fellow colleagues greeted but I just waved at them rushing off. I'm sure they must be wondering what's wrong with me.
I finally saw the restroom and rushed into it heading into one of the toilets.
"Ugghhhhhh"I groaned as I let the liquid out. F**k I thought my bladder will burst,I thought and brought out my phone.
I searched for his contact and dialed it but he still didn't answer his phone. What's wrong with him?, Whenever I call him he doesn't pick up and annoyingly he doesn't return back my calls. It just feels like I'm dating myself sometimes,I thought with a sigh and put the phone back into my handbag.
As I sifted through my contacts, an increasing sense of anticipation transformed into frustration. With a mix of hope and exasperation, I dialed his number, only to once again be greeted by the all-too-familiar silence that followed. He simply didn’t pick up his phone. My mind raced with questions as I wondered aloud,
“What on earth could possibly be the matter with him?” I felt a simmering irritation building up inside me. It seemed like every single time I tried to reach out, my calls fell into a void of silence. It was becoming maddening, particularly because he had developed a distressing habit of completely ignoring my efforts to reconnect with him—no notifications that I had called, no texts to acknowledge my attempts, absolutely nothing.
It felt as though I was ensnared in a one-sided relationship, where my persistent efforts to foster a connection felt not only unappreciated but utterly pointless. A fleeting thought crossed my mind, and I couldn’t help but exclaim internally, “Sometimes, it honestly feels as if I’m simply dating myself,” and with that resigned acknowledgment, I tucked my phone back into the dark recesses of my handbag, the weight of uncertainty pressing heavily upon my chest.
Just as I contemplated rising from my seat to abandon this frustrating episode altogether, my attention was unexpectedly captivated by a lively chorus of laughter drifted in from a nearby table. The sound pierced through my thoughts, and for a moment, I was drawn into the joyfulness of that moment, contrasting sharply with the disquiet that churned within me.
The lively sound of laughter and animated conversation coming from a group of women cut through the clutter of my thoughts, much like a sudden jolt of energy that invigorates the senses. I hadn’t planned on eavesdropping on their dialogue, but the contagious vivacity of their energetic chatter irresistibly captured my attention, anchoring me in place as I found myself straining to catch every word.
“Ugh, my lips look so washed out right now,” one woman declared, her voice laced with an exaggerated exasperation that hinted at the lightheartedness of their gathering. It was clear that humor ran deep within their exchange, creating an atmosphere that felt both welcoming and intimate.
Before I could fully absorb her statement, another voice jumped in, bubbling with curiosity. “Have you all heard the latest gossip about Mr. Antonio's son? Apparently, he’s making waves over at the hospital!” The excitement in her tone was palpable, and you could feel the anticipation ripple through the group.
“Oh my goodness, yes! I heard he went so far as to pull a knife on one of the doctors—was it Dr. Collins?” another woman interjected, her eyes wide with disbelief.
Gasps of shock flitted around the circle, each of them clearly intrigued by the unfolding drama, fascinated by the chaotic turn of events.
“Honestly, it’s astonishing how fortunate he is that his family has money. If his parents didn’t have such deep pockets, there’s no way he’d be getting the kind of care he desperately needs,” one of the nurses remarked, her tone tinged with a mix of disdain and concern. It was evident that the underlying issues surrounding privilege and healthcare were weighing on her mind, adding a layer of depth to their otherwise lighthearted banter.
“Honestly, what does he expect? How can he possibly think he’s going to receive any assistance when he treats everyone who’s trying to help him with such disdain?”
As the conversation progressed, it unfolded like an engaging story, capturing my attention in a way I hadn’t anticipated. Despite my earlier feelings of exasperation, I found myself irresistibly immersed in the dynamic exchanges of those around me. I was intrigued to learn more about the unusual circumstances involving Mr. Antonio’s son. Each piece of information shared only deepened my curiosity, momentarily taking my mind off my own troubles and grievances.
“Oh, that poor Doctor Kimberly,” one person lamented, their voice tinged with empathy. “He’s just going to end up hurting her in the same way he’s been inflicting pain on everyone else.” A lump caught in my throat as I processed their words, making it difficult to swallow. I fought against the rising tide of dread that threatened to overwhelm me.
“Why on earth are they continuing to send more doctors to see him when it’s glaringly obvious that he’s never going to be cured?” another voice interjected, filled with frustration and concern. “I simply cannot stand the idea of him causing more harm, especially to our beloved Doctor Kim. She deserves so much better.” The sorrow in their tone added weight to the atmosphere, leaving me feeling anxious about the unfolding situation.
"Why on earth did it have to be her? Out of all the talented doctors in this entire facility, why was it her that they decided to assign to this case?" The words slipped from her lips, heavy with a blend of frustration and anxiety, almost hissing as the concern bubbled beneath the surface.
"I couldn't agree more with you," chimed in another nurse, her expression mirroring the unease that permeated the air. "Doctor Anita has been nothing short of a persistent headache for all of us—a living embodiment of discontent within these walls. It would have made so much more sense for them to appoint Dr. Anita instead."
Each word exchanged between them seemed to cast a heavier shroud of dread over me. "I really fear for Doctor Kimberly; she’s genuinely in real danger," one nurse added, her voice quaking as she spoke, unable to conceal the trepidation that gripped her heart.
"Please, we shouldn’t be voicing such dire thoughts!" another nurse interjected, her voice dropping to a mere whisper, as if afraid that even speaking the words would summon disaster. "All we can do now is hope and pray that she manages to navigate this perilous situation safely. She's such a compassionate individual, and I truly wish he can see that as well."
As their quiet whispers twirled around me like a growing storm, I felt my heart rate quicken, a pulse of sheer panic starting to course through my veins. What on earth could they possibly be discussing that was causing such palpable fear? There was an ominous tension in the room, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something truly unsettling was afoot. What exactly were they worried about?
Wait a minute... Doctor Collins who is Doctor Collins' patient that they keep discussing? I thought to myself, biting down on my lip anxiously, trying to piece together this unsettling puzzle of troubling conversation.