Filed to story: Seventeen Heartbreaks: When Love Has No Voice
“You…” Sarah shot a fierce look at Steven.
“Family should remain outside. Is there anything else you need here? This is a special care unit. We can’t have unauthorized people wandering around,” Steven added firmly.
Sarah clenched her teeth in anger, shot Leila a menacing look, and stormed off.
Moments later, Landon emerged from the examination room, and Leila quickly approached him. “Everything’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” Steven said, holding the report while addressing Leila.
Leila let out a relieved sigh. “Thanks,” Landon said, his gaze shifting to Leila. Leila was surprised. She hadn’t expected Landon to thank her.
Steven chuckled. “No need to be so polite to your wife.” He clapped Landon on the back. “You’re going to rely on your wife a lot more from now on. No more skipping meals, and no more overworking yourself. Mrs. Kensington, could you start bringing meals for your husband?”
Leila nodded eagerly. She had attempted to bring meals to Landon before but was always stopped at the entrance of the Kensington Group.
“Bring me meals?” Landon looked over at Leila, a playful tone in his voice. “I should be the one bringing her lunch.”
Leila blushed, recalling the time Landon had brought her lunch because she hadn’t come home to eat. She glanced at Landon hesitantly, gesturing if she could start bringing him lunch to the Kensington Group from now on. She had always been denied entry before, and the receptionists hadn’t even recognized her as Landon’s wife. Would she still be treated like that in the future?
Landon met her gaze but hesitated to respond, his thoughts a mystery. Leila’s heart dropped a little. Perhaps he still preferred Sarah’s care…
“You’re welcome to bring lunch to me, provided it doesn’t disrupt your studio time,” Landon said, pausing briefly.
Leila’s cheeks reddened further as she quickly gestured that she would skip her studio visits for a few days since bringing him lunch mattered more to her.
Landon made no remark on her promise and turned to depart. His assistant had already fetched a change of clothes, and a car awaited him downstairs. He soon left the hospital and made his way to the Kensington Group for his day’s work.
Meanwhile, Leila returned home and sent a message to Gregory, explaining that her family was ill and she would be unable to visit the studio for some time.
Then, Leila made her way to the kitchen to start preparing lunch for Landon. Judging from Landon’s reactions the previous day, it seemed he preferred her cooking.
Leila allowed herself a small smile at the thought, but it quickly faded. What good was it that he liked her cooking? He didn’t love her, nor did he desire her as his wife. She felt like just an extra, an unnecessary addition to his life.
Now, her role seemed relegated to that of a domestic helper, solely there to cook and serve meals. Landon wouldn’t express gratitude. Instead, he’d dismiss her efforts with a clinical, “Well done,” as if she were merely a staff member.
Leila’s fingers felt heavy with each ingredient she touched, longing for the solace of the studio where she restored antiques. In that space, she could lose herself in her craft, untouched by the complexities of her personal life.
Chuckling bitterly at herself, Leila gestured to the kitchen staff and had them handle the chopping. Initially, she had intended to manage everything herself, but she reconsidered. She decided to focus on adding the final touches instead.
After the lunch was prepared, the driver escorted Leila to the Kensington Group. On the way, she texted Landon to let him know she was on her way but received no reply. Uncertainty crept in. She wondered if he had even seen her message. If he hadn’t, she risked being barred from going upstairs again, potentially left to linger awkwardly in the lobby under the scrutinizing gaze of the receptionist.
Upon entering the Kensington Group building, Leila was immediately met with the familiar face of the receptionist from her previous visit, who looked at her with a blend of recognition and subtle disapproval.
“Let me guess! Here to see Mr. Kensington again? And you’ve brought him lunch?” the receptionist inquired, her tone laced with skepticism as Leila approached.
Leila simply nodded in response.
The receptionist regarded Leila with a mix of contempt and hesitation. From the last interaction, it was obvious Landon knew who Leila was, but his demeanor toward her hadn’t been particularly warm.
The receptionist quickly surmised that Leila was probably not someone of significance.
After a moment’s deliberation, the receptionist offered a frosty smile. “If you’re dealing with mental issues, I suggest you seek help. If you continue to disrupt our operations, we may have to involve the police,” she said bluntly.
Leila, expecting such a response, calmly retrieved her phone and showed the receptionist the text exchange with Landon.
The receptionist gave it a cursory look before scoffing. “You expect me to believe this is Mr. Kensington’ number just because you say so? If I accepted every random screenshot, I’d have to let everyone through.”
With a quiet sigh, Leila contemplated her next move. She decided to try calling Landon. If he didn’t pick up, she resolved to leave. Perhaps he had forgotten about her promise to bring him lunch, or maybe he was with Sarah and not checking his phone.
As Leila was about to make the call, the elevator doors opened, and a sharply dressed man stepped out briskly.
“Mr. Pierce!” The receptionist quickly straightened up and greeted the man with an air of respect.
As Landon’s top special assistant, Edgar Pierce commanded more authority within the company than many of the vice presidents. He strode toward Leila with a purposeful gait.
“Madam,” Edgar said, nodding slightly as he approached.
“Mr. Kensington has asked me to escort you upstairs.”
Leila’s face lit up with a relieved smile, and she gestured her thanks to Edgar.
The receptionist watched, dumbfounded. She hadn’t anticipated Leila to hold such a respected position. Typically, only important clients were welcomed by managers, and here was Edgar, whose greetings were reserved for CEOs of partner companies on par with the Kensington Group. Why would someone of such importance be here just to deliver food?
“Did you get delayed here?” Edgar asked Leila, his tone gentle yet concerned, as he prepared to take her upstairs.
Terrified, the receptionist quickly tried to explain herself. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize who she was, and last time Mr. Kensington…”
“Didn’t you receive the notification?” Edgar cut in sharply.
“I haven’t checked it yet…” the receptionist stammered.
“The notification was sent out three hours ago, and you still haven’t seen it?” Edgar’s tone was stern, his displeasure evident.
Caught without a valid excuse, the receptionist nervously pulled out her phone and indeed found a company-wide notice that had been sent earlier. The message clearly stated that a mute visitor named Leila was expected and that the receptionist was supposed to facilitate her direct access to the CEO’s office.
Realization dawned on Leila. Landon had made arrangements within the company for her visit. He hadn’t forgotten about her promise of bringing lunch.
“Sorry! I’ve been feeling under the weather today and didn’t think to check my phone. I…” The receptionist fumbled for words to defend herself.
But Edgar was quick to respond, his voice laced with finality, “You’ve compromised your responsibilities. Please proceed to HR and submit your resignation.”
With no further ado, Edgar escorted Leila toward the elevator.
As they ascended, Leila observed her surroundings. This was her first foray into Landon’s workplace.
The 17th floor was a panorama of activity and openness. To one side, a glass-walled secretarial hub teemed with employees diligently at work. Nearby, a well-appointed pantry and cozy lounge area invited brief escapes from the office bustle. Opposite this vibrant area was Landon’s office, its door closed, a quiet island in the midst of the floor’s lively flow.
“Madam, please wait here. Mr. Kensington is currently in a video conference,” Edgar informed Leila as they reached the lounge area.
Leila nodded in understanding and took a seat. The lounge was enveloped by floor-to-ceiling windows that framed a commanding view of the city center. Seizing the moment, she pulled out her phone and began capturing photos of the scenic vista.
“Oh, is that her?” two secretaries who had just entered the lounge whispered.
Engrossed in her photography, Leila didn’t immediately notice their approach. When they drew nearer, she looked up and greeted them with a warm smile.
They returned the smile politely before moving past-Leila to grab some water from the nearby dispenser.
“She really is as stunning as the photo. I’d recognize her anywhere!” one secretary exclaimed, clearly impressed.
“Yeah, I thought that photo in the notice was retouched,” the other commented, sounding slightly skeptical.
Leila blinked, suddenly aware that she was the subject of their conversation, likely under the assumption that she couldn’t hear or speak.
Just as Leila was considering leaving to sidestep further awkwardness, another snippet of their chat caught her attention.
“She’s way prettier than Miss Miller. Do you think Miss Miller’s days are numbered?”
“No chance. Sarah’s the queen of drama. She has a knack for keeping his attention. She’s not going anywhere,” the other replied confidently.
A shiver of unease ran through Leila as she overheard this. Sarah was well-known throughout the Kensington Group.
Leila took a deep breath, steadying herself. She knew she needed to focus on her mission-to deliver the lunch and maintain her composure despite the undercurrents of tension and rivalry surrounding her.
As the secretaries moved away, Leila returned her attention to her phone, ensuring she had a clear path to Landon’s office. She was determined not to let Sarah’s words shake her resolve.
With a final glance around the bustling lounge, Leila rose and made her way toward Landon’s office, ready to fulfill her promise despite the challenges that lay ahead.