Forever with the Billionaire

Hillary POV

I facepalmed myself for the umpteenth time as Loukas disagreed with my choice of exercise for him. Ever since we started therapy that morning, he had been against everything that I was doing. “Can’t you massage my legs without caressing them?”

“Loukas!” I turned to face Rotimi, who was moving the equipment needed for the therapy with three other men. After signing the contract a day before, he gave me one of his empty rooms and, within a few hours, it was remodeled into a physiotherapy room. Loukas made sure everything was made available, including a mini glass desk, a leather chair for me, and a brown couch that fit his height in case we decided to have a discussion, which I knew was never going to happen. While Rotimi and the men were bringing in the equipment, Loukas and I began his muscle exercise, but he disagreed anytime I tried to help him move his hand.

“Aren’t you going to let me raise your right hand?” I asked Loukas, who slapped my hand when I tried to touch him again. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Looking at you cussing around your patient! You are supposed to be patient around me, not cuss me! ” Loukas frowned and looked towards Rotimi. “Rotimi is here to help me lift my hands now. Just give him instructions to do it! ”

I ruffled my hair and let out a frustrated groan. Loukas was the first and worst patient I have ever treated in my entire life. “I am the therapist here and I get to make the decisions about you, not Rotimi!” I yelled and took a deep breath, trying so hard to push down another scream that was trying to escape my throat.Têxt © NôvelDrama.Org.

“Let Hillary continue whatever you two are doing! I’m not going to interfere,” Rotimi said to Loukas and walked outside before Loukas could call after him.

“So, shall we continue?” I asked him as I moved closer to him and tried to touch his right hand, but he slapped my hand away yet again. “Why are you so annoying?” I said softly and sat in front of him. “If this is going to work, then you need to trust me, Loukas,” I told him.

He eyed me suspiciously and stared at my hands. I wondered if he saw something bad in my hands that made him not want me to touch him. I forced a laugh and stretched my hands. “Is anything the problem?” I asked him.

He frowned and nodded in response. “What is it?” I asked him.

He pointed to my hand and then pointed to the door beside my desk, which was the washroom. “Go wash your hands before you touch me and make sure you sanitize them in case of germs,” he pointed out and gestured for me to stand up. “Go,” he mouthed.

I scoffed and ruffled my hair yet again. I bit my lip to control my anger as I stood up like he ordered and walked into the washroom. When I was inside, I screamed out his name and stared at my reflection in the mirror. I imagined him as the one in the mirror and punched it hard, but it didn’t break. I washed my hands as instructed by my impossible patient, and when I was done, I dried them and then walked out. When I walked back into him, I saw him talking with Rotimi, and I knew something had happened when I saw the stoic look on his face.

I walked towards them and cleared my throat. Rotimi turned to face me and stood up. Unlike Loukas, whose face was always squeezed, Rotimi had a friendly smile on his face. “You may continue doing what you were doing before,” he said as he walked away, pointing to Loukas.

That was awkward, I thought as I turned to face Loukas. “Is everything alright?” I asked.

“What’s your business with that?” He asked me

I joined my hands together and smiled. “Because I am your therapist, remember?” I pointed at myself. “I am supposed to know everything that is happening with you, Loukas!” I pointed out

“It’s none of your business,” he said in a stern tone and pointed to his hands. “Don’t you have a muscle exercise to do?” He reminded me and cleared his throat. I nodded in response and moved closer to him. As I raised his right hand, I felt a surge of electricity rush through me, and I quickly dropped his hand. “What the hell?” He shouted at me. “Do your job properly, Hillary!”

I apologized and lifted his hand again. I stretched his hand to the right side, and after a few seconds, I stretched it to the left side. “This will help trigger and send messages to your brain if you repeat it every day. Since your left brain was affected in the accident,” I stopped when I heard him clearing his throat. “Are you okay?” I asked him.

“I’m fine. Just do your thing,” he said and closed his eyes. I kneeled beside him and continued stretching his right hand. When I stretched his hand to the left side, I took the time to stare at his brows. They were perfectly shaped and full. He had beautiful eyes, unlike his personality, which stink and made him seem pretty annoying. “So doing this every day will help awaken your brain,” I explained to him as I continued stretching his hand. “Sooner or later, you’ll be able to move your hand yourself!” I tried to strike up a conversation, but he didn’t bother replying to anything I said. Other patients I have treated in the past made the therapy interesting as we engaged in conversations, but that was not the case with Loukas.

“Do you understand everything that I’ve said?” I asked him.

“Does it seem like I’m not listening?” his fluttered open and met mine. We both stared at each other like we were the only ones in the room. Loukas leaned closer to me while I leaned backward.

I wondered what he was trying to do as he pulled me closer to himself with his left hand. I held onto his right hand as I fell into his arms. “You’ve been touching me for quite a while now. Are we going to exercise only my hands?” He asked as he stared into my eyes. I visibly gulped as his left hand touched my face and his fingers trailed down to my lips. My heartbeat quickened as I thought that he was about to kiss me. “You can try to kiss me, but you can’t even do your therapy well!”

Kiss? I shouted in my head. How could he bring up the kissing incident at that moment? I thought. He didn’t only bring up the kiss but also questioned my therapy skills. “What.,…” I slapped his hand away and dropped his right hand on the couch beside him. “You are the one making this therapy look as if I’m forcing you?” I retorted and tried to stand up, but he held me in his arms pretty tight. “What are you doing?” I asked him.

“Listen up Hillary! I’ve spent thousands of dollars for this therapy, not for you to stretch my hand for an hour as if it would make my hand better the next day, “he stated, and when I tried to wriggle out of his arms, he held me tighter. “Do your job as my therapist and we won’t have any problems with Hillary!” And then he finally lets me go. “Since today is the first day, I’ll let it go, but the next therapy session won’t be like this again, I hope?” He asked.

How did he expect me to answer that question when he was the impossible one? I stood up and heaved a sigh. “You don’t have to question my therapy skills. I’d treated a paralysis patient before, and thanks to me, she could talk again, “I boasted to him. I expected him to be impressed, but instead, he rolled his eyes and scoffed.

I didn’t ask you that, Hillary. I don’t care if you wake the dead from the grave! All I’m concerned about is making this therapy work so that I’ll be on my feet in six months. ”

“This won’t work out in six months if you keep blaming me instead of questioning your narcissistic self!” I didn’t yell at him, but my voice was loud enough to echo down the hallway. I tried as much as possible not to yell at him, but there was something inside of me waiting to snap and attack him, but I didn’t want that for either of us. “Muscle exercise is one of the effective methods of helping a hemiplegic patient, and if you would let me do my job then..”

“Don’t forget that I’m the only one paying the bills,” he had to remind me. “You are here to help me not to question Hillary, and I can easily replace you if you think you are really important.”

Don’t listen to him, I whispered to myself. His words made tears well up in my eyes, but I blinked them away because I was not going to cry in front of him. I closed my eyes and sniffled. Then I looked at him with a forceful smile on my face. “I apologize, Mr. Whitemore,” I said, and he raised his brows in confusion.

“Don’t call me that,” he warned in a serious tone.

“You are my boss, and although I’m staying in your home, I have to be respectful and follow your rules. I sincerely apologize for that, “I told him and stretched forth my hand for him to take.” “Before this therapy ends today, let’s take a walk outside this building,” I said.

“Are you mocking me?” He scoffed as he stared at me. “Taking a walk when you know that I can’t walk!” Yet again, he shouted at me, but I wasn’t bothered by that. I walked away from him and pointed to the wheeled walker Rotimi had unboxed. I told him, “This is going to help you,” and pushed the wheeled walker toward him. “This will also help your muscles, and in time, you’ll be able to do without it!” I explained how the wheeled walker works, and when I helped him up and placed his hand on the walker, he didn’t argue. “Just push it forward,” I instructed him.

He stared at me for a while before he followed my instructions. He walked back and forth three times before we finally headed out of the room. Fortunately, he was able to use the wheeled walker perfectly, and even as we walked into the elevator, he didn’t need my help with pushing the walker. When we got out, I inhaled the scent of the air. “It’s so cool to be outside!” I said and smiled at him.

He stared at me for a while before pointing forward where there were two chairs. “I can’t stand for long,” he pointed out.

Oh! I almost forgot that he couldn’t stand up for long. I walked towards him and helped him walk toward the chairs. The chairs were placed under a tree and looked abandoned like they hadn’t been used for years. When I had helped Loukas get seated, I sat beside him and we just stared at one another without saying anything.

First therapy over without losing my head.