Alex's Collapse
The gleaming glass walls of Hayes Global Headquarters shimmered under the midday sun, a testament to its owner's unmatched success. Inside the boardroom, Alexander Hayes sat at the head of a massive mahogany table, his gray eyes scanning the crowd of executives with practiced detachment. The air was heavy with tension as the quarterly review began, numbers and projections flying across the room like bullets.
Alex leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming against the polished wood surface. His tailored suit, sharp and impeccably cut, exuded power, but his posture told another story. His jaw was clenched, his shoulders tight, and there was a faint pallor to his usually tanned skin. He hadn't eaten since the morning, and the coffee in his system was the only thing keeping him upright.
"Mr. Hayes?"
The voice of his CFO, David, broke through his thoughts. Alex blinked and realized the room had fallen silent, every pair of eyes now on him.
"Yes, go on," he said, masking his fatigue with authority.
David hesitated. "We need your approval on reallocating funds for the merger with Belmont Industries. It's a critical step to maintaining market dominance."
Alex nodded, though his vision blurred as he stared at the documents on the screen. The words swam before him, merging into an incomprehensible haze. He gripped the edge of the table, willing himself to focus.
"Fine," he said brusquely. "Proceed with the recommendation."
The tension in the room eased slightly as the executives resumed their discussion, but Alex could feel the weight pressing down on him. The merger was just one of a dozen fires he was trying to put out. Investors were breathing down his neck, the press was speculating about his personal life, and his late father's will still loomed over him like a dark cloud. The 30-day deadline to secure his inheritance by marrying loomed closer, but he hadn't had time to even think about it.
His assistant, Natalie, approached him discreetly with a fresh stack of reports. "Mr. Hayes, you have a call with Belmont in an hour, and the charity gala is tonight at 8 PM. Shall I—"
"Natalie," Alex interrupted, his voice sharper than intended, "just... give me a moment."
Natalie stepped back, concern flickering across her face. "Of course, sir."
The edges of Alex's vision darkened as he pushed away from the table. He felt the room tilt slightly, the sounds of conversation muffled like they were underwater. His heart was pounding now, an erratic beat that made his chest tighten.
"I need a break," he muttered, rising to his feet.
He barely made it two steps before the dizziness overtook him. The room spun violently, and the next thing he knew, his knees buckled. The last thing he heard was the panicked cries of his team and Natalie shouting his name as he collapsed to the floor.
---
When Alex opened his eyes, the fluorescent lights above him were painfully bright. He blinked against the harshness, his head pounding like a drum. Slowly, the sterile scent of antiseptic registered, and he realized he wasn't in his office anymore.
"Mr. Hayes, you're awake," a soft, calm voice said.
Turning his head slightly, he found himself looking at a woman in scrubs. Her auburn hair was tied back, and her green eyes were filled with concern. There was something familiar about her, but he couldn't quite place it.
"You collapsed from exhaustion," she continued, her tone gentle but professional. "You're at St. Mary's Hospital. We've hooked you up to an IV to rehydrate you, but you'll need to stay overnight for observation."
Alex frowned, trying to sit up, but the pounding in his skull made him wince. "I don't have time for this. I have meetings—"
"You'll have to make time," the nurse interrupted firmly, her gaze unwavering. "You've been running yourself into the ground, and your body finally gave up. If you don't slow down, next time might not be so easy to recover from."
Her words were sharp, but there was no malice in them—just an undeniable truth. Alex sighed and sank back against the pillows, his body too weak to argue.
"What's your name?" he asked, his voice hoarse.
"Ellie Grace," she replied, her lips curving into a polite smile.
Ellie. Something about the name tugged at his memory, like a whisper from a distant dream. But before he could dwell on it, exhaustion overtook him again, and his eyes slid shut.
---
Outside the room, Ellie leaned against the wall, exhaling deeply. She had treated countless patients over the years, but there was something about Alexander Hayes that unsettled her. It wasn't just his status or the way his presence commanded attention—it was the faint flicker of recognition she felt when she looked at him.
She shook her head, brushing the thought aside. He was just another patient, another life she was tasked with helping. But as she returned to her rounds, a nagging thought lingered in the back of her mind: why did he feel so familiar?