Chapter 137 - The Warm Bodies (1/2)
It's already morning proper when Mrs. Gomez reaches the hospital. It took her just a minute to find Gabriel, sitting alone in the small waiting area outside the ICU.
”You don't look like you've had at least a cup of coffee, Mr. Tan,” she says, trying to smile. ”Would you like me to go and fetch one for you?”
Gabriel sighs. ”Thank you, I'm fine. And thank you for coming here.”
Mrs. Gomez takes the seat next to him. She gazes around, as though looking for someone. ”How's Miguel?”
”He's fine. At least his vitals are stable. He's asleep. We're all just waiting for the blood.”
”What the hell happened to him?”
Gabriel looks at her, sadness in his eyes. ”You are aware of Miguel's thing for Claire, right? You've witnessed it.”
The moment she hears ”Miguel” and ”Claire” in the same sentence, Mrs. Gomez is struck with an epiphany; she instantly connects the dots. The memory of that moment in Gabriel's office, where she egged Claire to tell Miguel the truth even if it hurt, flashes in her head. Is this her fault? ”I think I am very dimly aware of any of that, Mr. Tan, if ever that existed, that thing,” she stammers.
”Well, the thing was, we had a fall-out recently, Miguel and I, because he tried to do a bad thing to her.”
”What? Like what kind of a bad thing?”
Gabriel pauses, weighing his words. ”He tried to jump on her the other day. Right in the office building.”
”He did what?” Blood has left Mrs. Gomez's face. Again, her brain connects the dots; the other morning was when Miguel visited the office—did the attack happen right after that? Jesus Henry Christ! ”Oh, my God, how's Claire? Was she hurt?”
”Thankfully, she was able to defend herself and escape. And I didn't know any of that until last night. Or maybe it was all my fault because I had been in denial. I should have listened to the clues. I thought Miguel would get over her when he sees that she's with me. But I was dead wrong.”
Mrs. Gomez obviously hangs on his every word. She feels guilty somehow; she has always loved juicy gossip, but inside that room is Miguel hanging on for dear life, and she feels sort of ashamed that her eagerness to find out what had transpired bordered on salaciousness. And yet. ”And then what? Did he attack her again?”
”Not exactly that.” Gabriel proceeds in retelling what transpired, down to the last detail, when he discovered, to his shock, that he had caused Miguel's accident. He sniffles, although he tries not to cry in front of her.
”I'm really sorry,” she says. ”We'll all get through this. This will be over like a bad dream, and then you'll be happy and Miguel will finally be happy and Claire…Wait, where is she?”
”She's over there,” he says, nodding in the general direction of the adjacent corridor. ”She's still having her blood extracted.” Gabriel pinches the bridge of his nose. ”I should be there, holding her hand. But then I think I should be here, because Miguel's in a more serious situation. I don't know what to do.”
”Poor boy,” Mrs. Gomez says, reaching out for his hand. She could pass off as his mom. ”You know what, I'll go over there and find Claire. She needs a friendly face, too. Although that girl of yours has so much spunk in her, I don't think she'd need a companion in this situation. But yeah, I'll find her. You stay here. I have been ȧssured Miguel is getting the best possible care in this hospital.”
”Please,” he says. ”Thank you.”
”Don't worry, we'll get through this, Mr. Tan,” she says, standing up. ”I will make sure of that.”
Mrs. Gomez is thinking in terms of minutes, seconds. She just doesn't want to alarm him, but even if Miguel is considered stable for now, he direly needs blood transfusion. Gabriel has always been emotionally immature, and he tends to regress into some childlike form whenever Mrs. Gomez is around. And the grand madam, in turn, acts like his surrogate mother, overly protective of him, anticipating his needs, thinking ahead.