Chapter 5: Her Son Fell Ill

Her heart leaped, and she muttered a curse. "I dialed the secretary's extension; why is the CEO answering?" she wondered, confused.

"Hello?" Jonathan's calm, patient voice responded.

Teresa quickly adopted a goofy, nasally voice, feigning confusion. "Oops, is this Horizonlead Group? I think I dialed the wrong number."

Jonathan chuckled lightly. "Seems you have the wrong number, ex-wife."

Caught off guard by his instant recognition, Teresa stumbled, then regained her composure.

Jonathan's impatience was evident as he interrupted. "If you have something to say, say it. No need for the dramatics."

Taking a steadying breath, Teresa stated, "NewEdge Media is interested in your successful career. We'd like to do a short interview. Are you available anytime soon?"

"No time," Jonathan replied sharply.

Teresa's shoulders slumped. "Understood. I won't waste any more of your time."

A slight smile touched Jonathan's lips. "Not considering giving it a shot, even for old times' sake?"

Teresa's jaw tightened. "You've made your point. I won't bother you anymore. Have a good day," she said, her politeness barely masking her frustration.

The phone slammed down, the sound echoing in the silent room.

Sherry, who had been watching, turned to Teresa. "Wow, that was something. That wasn't Jonathan, was it?"

Teresa sighed, shaking her head. "Jonathan answered the phone himself."

Sherry's eyes widened. "No way! Jonathan himself? That's a first!"

Teresa's brow furrowed. Her luck felt more like a curse. "He said he's too busy for an interview," she told Wayne, her tone flat.

Wayne's astonishment was palpable. "He took your call personally?" he echoed, his voice a mix of shock and curiosity.

Teresa nodded. "That's what he said. Too much on his plate."

Despite the setback, Wayne remained optimistic. "Well, the fact that he answered at all is promising," he insisted. "Maybe you didn't quite hit the mark last time. Try again, but this time, turn on the charm."

Teresa bit her lip, her skepticism evident. "I'm not sure it'll make a difference. He was pretty firm about being busy."

Wayne smiled gently. "It's worth another shot, Teresa. Dial it up a notch," he advised.

Sinking into her chair, Teresa sighed. 'Money doesn't fall from the sky; it's a brutal scramble,' she thought.

On her second attempt, Jonathan answered with a tinge of scorn. "What now, ex?" he asked, his tone clipped.

Her jaw clenched. She had to stay calm, for her job and her child. "Mr. Lynn, I'm reaching out about the interview… hoping you might reconsider…"

Jonathan laughed coldly. "You're going to need a better pitch than that."

Despite her waning patience, Teresa remained composed.

"Fine, if you're not interested, no sweat. We can call off the interview," he said casually.

She took a deep breath. "Mr. Lynn, I'm humbly asking you to give our interview a chance."

Amidst distant laughter and murmurs, Jonathan said, "Can't chat now. I'm in the middle of something. Hit me up with the details later."

The call ended abruptly.

Teresa messaged Jonathan on the company WhatsApp account—a man she'd avoided digitally for years.

His reply was swift and confused: [Why the company account? Why not just text me?]

Teresa replied: [This is for official client communication.]

His response was bossy: [Use your personal number next time.]

She sighed, the irony sinking in. 'Of all people, I'm now at the mercy of my ex for work,' she mused. The roles had reversed.

She typed: [Let's focus on work. We have things to discuss.]

Jonathan replied with bewilderment and resistance: [How do you propose we discuss work? In person? We agreed to keep our distance, remember?]

Teresa knew life could be a grind, especially when paychecks barely covered bills.

[Let's meet up after work.] Teresa turned her phone face down.

As the workday ended, her phone buzzed. Miriam's tense voice informed Teresa that Michael was sick with a fever, and they were at the children's hospital.

Teresa's heart leaped. "I'm on my way," she said, her voice tense.

At the hospital, Teresa found Miriam with Michael, who was receiving an IV. Teresa immediately plunged into the chaos, tackling bills, navigating hospital lines, and rushing around, her exhaustion mounting.

Seeing Miriam needed to leave, Teresa gently suggested she go home, promising to stay with Michael.

Her phone vibrated. She cleared her throat. "Hello?" she rasped.

Jonathan's voice filled her ear. "Are you okay?"

Teresa sniffled. "Yeah. What's up?"

"Didn't we have a meeting planned after work? Where are we going to meet?"

Teresa frowned. "Let's postpone it. I'm swamped."

His tone sharpened. "Teresa, are you messing with me? You think I'm just sitting around, still in love with you?"

The line went dead.

A bitter smile touched Teresa's lips. She recalled the night before their divorce, when she'd spoken regrettable words fueled by alcohol. He'd declared their love was over.

The first light of morning ended Teresa's restless vigil. Michael woke, clutching her hand. "Mommy."

Teresa touched his forehead; it felt cool. "You must be starving, kiddo," she said gently.

Michael nodded eagerly.

Teresa placed a bowl of gruel before him. "Here's your breakfast."

Michael's face fell. "Why do I have to eat plain gruel? I'm already sick."

Teresa laughed, tousling his hair. "It's the best thing for you right now, buddy. But as soon as you're better, we're having a feast. Your pick: steak, lobster, or pizza."

Michael's eyes widened. He took a small bite of gruel.

Michael tugged her sleeve. "Mommy, can we go home? I don't like it here," he whispered.

Teresa leaned in, her touch reassuring. "We'll go home as soon as you eat. The doctor will check you, and if you're okay, we're gone. Promise."

The ward buzzed with families dealing with the mycoplasma virus.

After the doctor's approval, Teresa helped Michael into his coat and lifted him into her arms.

In the car, he looked up. "You should find me a dad, Mommy. You won't be able to carry me when I get big," he reasoned.

Teresa buckled him in. "I'll always be able to carry you, no matter how big," she assured him.

"When I'm ten? Twenty? A hundred? Two hundred?"

Teresa chuckled. "I'll always be able to carry you, no matter how old you get."

At home, Teresa messaged Jonathan: [Hey, sorry I had to bail on our meeting today. Can we try for tomorrow?]

Her phone remained unanswered.

She sent another message: [Mr. Lynn, please consider our interview request. We really value your input.]

She stared at her phone, irritated. Jonathan was known for holding grudges.

The next day, she crept into the office, nervous about having skipped the formalities of requesting time off.

Wayne approached, laughing. "Teresa, you're a rock star! The operations team can't function without you!" He gave a thumbs-up.

Teresa's brow furrowed. 'What's going on?' she thought, completely surprised.