Chapter Sixty
Third Person POV.
Amber’s eyelids fluttered open, her surroundings hazy as she slowly regained consciousness. As her
bleary gaze swept across the room, she realized that she wasn’t in her own bedroom.
Just when she was trying to understand where she was, the sterile scent of the hospital room would hit
her, the antiseptic lingering in the air. Confusion washed over her, her mind foggy as she tried.
to piece together what had happened.
Panic tinged the edges of her thoughts, and she struggled to sit up, her body feeling weak and
fatigued. Just as she was about to call for help, the door swung open, revealing a worried–looking
Richard.
Relief washed over her as Richard rushed to her side. “Amber, you’re awake! How are you feeling? Are
you okay? Do you need anything?” His questions bombarded her, leaving her feeling overwhelmed.
“Slow down, Richard, Amber managed to say, her voice fragile. “What happened? How did I end up
here?” Her mind raced to recall the events leading up to her awakening, but her memories felt
elusive, like trying to grasp onto a fading dream.
Richard let out a sigh, ncing around the room before meeting Amber’s gaze. “I found you
unconscious in the dining room,” he exined. “I rushed you to the hospital after, and you’ve been
here for a little while now.”
Confusion furrowed Amber’s brow as she struggled toprehend the situation. “Unconscious? How
What’s wrong with me?“”
Richard’s eyes darted away, evading her questioning gaze. He shifted ufortably. ” What’s
important is how you feel Amber. Do you feel any better now?” he asked. “Are you in pain? Is there
anything I can do for you?”
Amber’s patience wore thin as she insisted on answers. “Richard, please, tell me what’s going on,”
she implored. “What’s wrong with me? Is it serious?”
Richard would think to himself, wondering whether or not to bring it up first or allow the doctor to
exin things to her.
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Anter a moment or contemtion, ne locked eyes With Amber, NIS GAZE
gaze unwavering. Amper, are you
taking medications for an anxiety disorder?” he asked, his voice gentle but insistent.
Amber’s confusion despened, her mind struggling to process Richard’s words. “What? I… I don’t
understand,” she stammered, her voiceced with bewilderment. “Why would you think I have an
anxiety
disorder? What are you talking about?”
Richard les out a sigh “Amber. I know we agreed to keep our personal lives separate, but I need to
know the truth” he exined, his voice steady. “Knowing if you have an anxiety disorder is the only
way I can help you.”
Amber stared at Richard in disbelief. Anviety disorder? L. I’ve never mentioned anything like
that What gave you that idea?” she asked, her voice filled with confusion.
Richard sighed, his gaze steady on Amber’s face as he contemted how to respond to her
questioning. Taking a deep breath, he finally spoke.
“Amber, it’s better if the doctor exins everything to you,” he said gently. “I’m not sure I can
exin it as dearly as the doctor can.”
Confusion etched deep lines on Amber’s forehead as she tried to make sense of Richard’s response.
She
couldn’t fathom what could be so serious that the doctor had to exin it instead of Richard. Her
questioning eyes locked with Richard’s, silently begging for answers.
“Richard, what’s going on?” Amber’s voice wavered with a mix of fear and curiosity. “Why do you have
such a serious look on your face? And why are you asking me about anxiety disorder?”
“Amber plesse trust me. The doctor will exin everything. Just try to be patient, okay?”
With that Richard pressed the emergency button beside the hospital bed, summoning the attention o
the medical staff.
Almost a minuteter, the hospital room door swung open, and a doctor entered. hisb coat crisp and
his demeanor calm. He greeted Amber with a curt bow. “I’m d to see that you’re awake, Mrs.
Romero” he said. “My name is Dr. Lawrence. I’ll be overseeing your care for the time being”
Amber’s eyes darted between Richard and the doctor, a mixture of apprehension and impatience
evident on her face. She was done with waiting. Her voice trembled slightly as she interrupted the
doctor, her need for answers overpowering her politeness. “Dr. Lawrence, please tell me what’s wrong
with me. Why am I in the hospital?”
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The doctor nodded understandingly, his gaze gentle. “Of course, Mrs. Romero. But before I exin
everything, I’d like to ask you some questions.” He nced briefly at Richard, then back at Amber,
“Would you prefer to answer these questions in front of your husband, or would you like to speak with
me privately?”
Amber’s brow furrowed, her confusion deepening. She couldn’t fathom why the doctor’s questions
necessitated privacy, and her instinct was to have Richard stay by her side. She shook her head. “I
don’t mind answering with Richard here. He’s my husband.”
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Dr. Lawrence nodded, acknowledging Amber’s decision. “Very well, then. Mrs. Romero, have you ever
been diagnosed with any mental issues or disorders?”
Amber’s eyes widened, taken aback by the doctor’s question. She nced at Richard, a flicker of
uncertainty in her gaze, before regaining herposure. “About a year ago, I suffered a miscarriage,
and after seeing a therapist, I was told I had depression,”–she admitted softly.
Richard’s surprise was evident, but he remained quiet, allowing Amber to exin her situation without
interruption.
The doctor continued his line of inquiry, his tone empathetic yet methodical. “And have you ever been
diagnosed with having an anxiety disorder?”
Amber’s confidence returned as she shook her head. “No, I haven’t. My therapist never mentioned
anything like that”
Dr. Lawrence nodded, his expression contemtive. “And are you currently taking any prescribed
medications?”
Amber hesitated for a moment. “Yes, I am,” she replied firmly. “But they’re antidepressants, not
medication for anxiety.”
“Mrs. Romero, I understand what I’m about to say may be difficult to process, but the tests we ran on
you showed that you have been consistently taking anxiolytics and a smaller dosage of antipsychotics,”
Dr. Lawrence exined gently, his voiceced with empathy.
Amber’s heart raced, panic flooding over her as she struggled toprehend the implications of the
doctor’s words. “But I don’t have an anxiety disorder or any other serious mental illness; why would
I take those?” she stammered.
The doctor nodded, his expression sympathetic. “I understand your confusion. Mrs. Romero. But to
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exin, anxiolytics are typically prescribed to individuals with anxiety disorders, while antipsychotics
are primary given to patients with conditions such as schizophrenia or bipr disorder, and
unfortunately, you’ve been taking both of these medications at the same time.”
Amber felt her head spinning, the room closing in on her as she tried to process this bewildering
revtion. How could this be happening? Why was she taking medications that weren’t meant for her
How did this end up happening?
Desperationced her voice as she turned to Dr. Lawrence, pleading for answers. “But how? I don’t
understand any of this.”
Dr. Lawrence’s gaze softened even further. “Mrs. Romero, the reason you fainted and ended up in the
hospital is likely due to the fact that you have been taking medication that was not meant for your
condition. Prolonged usage,bined with malnutrition, has weakened your body’s ability to tolerate
the side effects of these medications. Thankfully, you haven’t been consistent enough to the point of
addiction, which could have caused a serious mental breakdown.”
Amber’s confusion deepened, her mind racing as she struggled to connect the dots. “But my therapist,
who is actually a psychiatrist, prescribed these medications to me, and they werebeled as
antidepressants.”
Richard would sigh before deciding to chime in. “Actually, Amber, I went back home to check for the
medications you were taking and brought them in to be checked. It has been confirmed that those pills
were not antidepressants. Someone purposely switched the content of your medication and made you
believe you were taking antidepressants instead.”
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