Her Love

Out of blue, Nathan Rivers is called by his ex-fiancee to care of their son he has never seen or contacted, awhile she is in the hospital for surgery that may not...be successful.


1. ONE


“Mr. Rivers!” shouted Mr. Greg Samuel, the secretary, “Mr. Rivers!” Mr. Rivers stomped out of his office to Mr. Samuel's desk. His usual grease back dark brunette hair had a little strand sticking up in the air. Between his brows was a big crease which one can assume has grown bigger and will keep growing bigger through the years since he had no plans on retiring anytime soon.


Mr. Rivers was a man with responsibility. A man devoted night and day to his big business. Since he was twenty-seven he had been the CEO of department store known as BRANCH. The company was originally founded by his father, but it was him, however, that had made the company progress from a normal business to a big business.


“I heard you once! I had heard you twice!” Mr. Rivers growled at his secretary. Despite his ravishing looks and appearance, he appeared as a dragon spitting out fire to a man who was only doing his work. His employees, who were peeking out of their cubicles, were very intrigued by their bosses behavior. The Mr. Rivers, that they know and even feared is man that would never leave his office on work hours. His only exceptions were for meetings and horrific events (An example would be to fire a good employee or dropping of stocks). Thus, for their boss to go out of his way to yell at Mr. Samuels struck them curious. Curious enough to stop their work and watch the scenario happening before them.


Their peeks, however, did not last long. Mr. Rivers had become aware of their stares. He began to scan the room and glare at any that who he notice looking his way. Fearful of what their boss was capable of, the employees immediately stuck their heads back into their cubicles and once again went back to doing their work. After bringing order back into the wide room full of cubicles, the tycoon made attempts of regaining his composure by straightening his red gray striped tie between his collar and brushing back that one strand of hair still lingering up in the air.


“What is the necessary reason for calling me, Greg, “ he huffed. Though he was irritated, Mr. Samuel now had finally regain his boss' attention. Thus, with the dragon's eyes on him, he handed him the wireless phone that was usually seated on his desk. “There is a call for you,” he said.


“Business calls I can take in my office,”


“Sir, it is not a business call,”


“Oh..I see,” said Mr. Rivers as looked down at the phone in his hand. It was well common knowledge for those that work in the building that the wireless phone on Mr. Samuels desk was there for Mr. Rivers personal calls. Business calls were to be answered in his own office and calls from cell phones (including smart phones) were to only be answered and reciprocated during hours off of work.


“Hello,” said Mr. Rivers into the phone, “Who is it that I am speaking to?”


“It is Mrs. Bosco, Nathan,” said the respondent. His grip on the phone grew stronger and the creases between his brows grew bigger. Wanting to speak in privacy, he took the phone with him in his office. For he had immediately realized his employees were once again were peeking outside their cubicles trying to listen in on his conversation with the woman he was speaking with over the phone.


However, his time in his office was for a brief amount of minutes, but nevertheless his return to them was of dramatic entry. For he had flung the door's of his office so hard and sudden that every employee in the room reacted with startlingness unconscious movement.


“Greg!” he shouted to his secretary.




“Get my coat and my briefcase,” he barked, “As I head down to my lobby, call for my chauffeur,”


“Urgent matter, sir?” asked Greg as he helped dress his employer with his long dark coat. Mr. Rivers, thus, replied, “ Yes,” in a quiet manner after being handed his briefcase. He hence, went on his elevator leaving his employees of the ninth floor.


In haste, Greg went and made a call to the receptionist in the lobby to have Mr. Rivers's car and driver be waiting for him out front of the lobby. Awhile bidding his boss's instructions, the peeking workers sprung out of their cubicles that they hid in. They were similar to groundhogs popping out of their holes. Excited from the drama that had happen before their eyes, they began to chirp about it as birds. Some even went the extra feet of flocking to the buildings windows to see their employer leave. They were undeniably intrigued and curious as to what could have possibly motivate their handsome tyrant boss to leave work early.




After a five hour drive, Nathan Rivers, finally arrived to his destination, a hospital. He immediately without hesitation got out of his car before his chauffeur, Mr. Cider, could park it. He headed directly to the receptionist, when he stormed into the lobby. Unconsciously, however, he in-mindfully ignored those who stood before him and went up to the lady across the counter and said, “I am here for a Ms. Bosco,”


A couple behind him could be heard complaining about his obnoxious actions which he made. He was a one track pony. His surroundings at the present were not as important as to seeing the woman who had motivated him to leave work early.


“Are you a relative of the patient?” asked the receptionist as she straightened her files, “ If you are not related please go sit down and wait. Those behind you hav...”


“I was called to come visit her does that..” however, before he could say anymore, he felt a tap on his shoulder and his name being called from behind. Behind him was an old lady.


“He is with me,” she said to the receptionist, “He has come to visit my daughter,”


“Well then,” replied the receptionist, “Please sign him here. Oh this here is a sticker tag. It is to be worn during your visit. Please write your name on it as well,”


“Thank you,” smiled the white hair lady.


Pale wrinkle skin. Green hazel eyes and underneath them were tiny freckles. It took Nathan Rivers a while to recognized that the old lady vouching for him was Mrs. Bosco.


“I will escort you too my daughter's room,” she said coldly to him as she hand him the name tag that was given by the receptionist. Not really knowing what to say, Nathan put on the name tag and followed her down the clinic's halls.


As they walked, they talked. “There is a fifty-percent chance that her surgery will be successful,” she said, “The actual surgery is to happen in two days,”


“How is she mentally?”


“Calm...She is in peace with her surroundings,”


“Why is the surgery not happening sooner?”


“We...had to call in the priest. The priest hasn't yet to visit,” she said. Nathan rolled his eyes and scoffed, “So like your family. So like your family to waste time on unnecessary practices.”


The old lady, Mrs. Bosco, did not replied back to his arrogant comments. She instead kept her angry thoughts to herself and allowed an awkward silence to surround them as she kept leading him to her daughter's room. Eventually they reached her daughter's room, however, voices could be heard as they were bout to enter. Recognizing the voices, Mrs. Bosco without hesitation tugged on Nathan's long coat.


“What?” he said as a response to her actions.


“She is speaking to someone important,” she said. He huffed and stand in-front of the wall that included the entry to the patient's room. Though his back was against the wall, he was, however, not leaning against it.


Mrs. Bosco suddenly released a big sigh. She had been taking care of her daughters errands and had walked more than she had the stamina for the last few days. Her face started to show a sudden expression of pain. “I need to use the restroom,” she murmured. Without anytime for Nathan to respond, she power walked as fast as her tiny legs could carry her to the nearest bathroom which was in the next hall over.


Nathan was now alone in the hall. With Mrs. Bosco gone, he hence gave into his curiosity and nudged the door a little open to get a peek to who his ex-fiancée, Rosanna Julie Bosco, was speaking to.




The room was cold and dark. The only source of light was the sun's beams that came through the windows which hit his mother's face who sat in the bed in next to him. The bed left of them was empty. Its sheets and covers were folded neatly on top of a pillow that sat flat above the bare mattress. His grandmother had left him awhile ago to meet someone at the lobby. Thence, he and his mother were all alone in that quiet cold room. Time felt still. Nothing was moving. No sound was heard or being made. The clock that stood over the the entry door didn't tick or even move.


Peyton Augustus Bosco stared for a long time at that clock. “Broken”, he murmured as conclusion. It came to thought of him there that it may be nice if everything could be broken and still.


His mother who he thought was asleep, abruptly began humming. Her actions intrude his calm thoughts yet reminded him why he was there. He was there for her. To see her.


She grabbed his hands with her own and began to massage his. Soft and small were her own hands yet frail and pallid. Pallid as the rest of her skin.


Though her eyes were closed, she was still humming. Humming a peaceful sweet tune that made her give a sweet pleasant smile.


“This...this song,” he whispered as listen to its melody. However, before he could speak more, the humming came to a sudden stop. She, thus, opened her eyes towards him. Eyes that were a bright blue with an outer ring of green. They were complimented by her long thick dark eye lashes. She was a beautiful woman. She had red lips similar to autumn's burgundy leaves and her hair was wavy and long. It was also dark as the night sky of midnight. She was a snow white. A modern snow white.


“The tune is to the song that I would sang to you when you were a baby,” she smiled. Her smile however went away when she notice a bruise on her son's face. She let go of his hand and said, “Come close, my dear.”


Peyton's face was now in his mothers gentle cold hands as she observed his bruise. “It will heal,” she whispered, “All the pain will heal.” She then kissed his forehead and released her grip on his face.


“Mother,” he said, “Am I to stay with Maimeó?”




“Uncle Tierney?”




“Who mother? Who am I to stay with?” he stammered. Frustration was revealing itself on his face. To hide his expression he began to look down at the ground. She was hard to understand. To gain any information out of her was the same as playing twenty questions.


“Your guardian will be taking care of you,” she said, “ You will be in his care for now and even possibly the future,”


“STOP!” he cried. His gaze was now towards her again. She was bout to speak more, but he however, again cried, “Just stop!”


Thus, she kept quiet, however, remained smiling. His tears could not be sustained. They were chasing each other down his cheeks. His cheeks grew red as his gentle cry turned to sobbing. The tears released were his frustration and fear that he held in for so long till that day. He was an eight year old boy with fears and one of them was losing her.


Rosanna began to console him. She placed his head on her lap and started combing his dark brunette hair with her tiny thin fingers. It felt so good to be stroke by his mother. It was very comforting, however, he deep down he knew this comfort may be short lived.


“I am so bless,” she said to him, “I am so bless to raise a beautiful son. I love you. No one can ever replace you, Peyton.”


Five minutes went by and he started to calm down. His head was out of his mother's lap and re-sat himself in his chair next to her. As consequence from being exhausted and teary, he begin to rub his swollen tired eyes. He too had long eyelashes, but his eyes were a dark blue. As he rubbed his eyes, his mother grabbed something from her nightstand that was next her bed. It was a book that was thick with pages. Some were torn and appeared to be falling out for its spine which was falling apart. However, despite its appearance, it was still to be of value for she placed it onto his lap.




“My recipe book,” she smiled, “It is something I want you to treasure when I am gone,”


“Thank you,” he murmured. He then put the old book into his backpack that was slouching on the ground against his stool. However, after he put the book away, he finally noticed how the sun's beaming light was growing dimmer. Time had truly fooled him. It had always been moving in that dark cold room.






“It's okay to cry, but always do remember to smile after,” she said. The boy quietly nodded away. A sudden knock on the door outside was made which startled him. It was a signal that his stay was over. Hence, he flung his backpack over his shoulder when he stand up to leave. Even so there was person waiting for him to leave, he still made time to kiss his mother's forehead before departing.


As he left the room, however, he did not take notice of the man waiting at the door. His thoughts were elsewhere and on the task of finding his grandmother, who he assumed was still waiting for his mother's important guest in the lobby.




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