After Marrying My Boss

Faced with Josephine's kind “orders,” I replied, “I will. Let me change upstairs first, Mom. I'll return to drink some chicken soup later.”

I shot my mother-in-law a small smile before heading upstairs. Josephine's thoughtful actions had taken a weight off my mind.

Once I returned to my bedroom, I took a quick shower in the attached bathroom. Though there was little for me to do at the hospital, I felt more exhausted now than after a full day's work.

Michael was home by the time I came out of the bathroom. His gaze traveled up and down my body before he approached me.

He wrapped me in his arms and asked gently, “How was your day at the hospital? Were you very uncomfortable?”

“It was fine. Other than the fact that I didn't click with Janette, everything else was bearable. Still, I'm not sure if I can completely forgive my birth mother,” I answered him gloomily as I leaned deeper into his embrace.

He placed his chin on my head and coaxed, “Take things slowly. Everything has its own course. Even if you're planning to forgive her, it won't come so quickly or naturally to you.”

I sighed in resignation, realizing the wisdom in his words.

After resting at home for slightly over an hour, I set off for the hospital. Michael wanted to send me, but I firmly denied his offer. He was undeniably exhausted after a day at work, and I did not want him to expend more energy on my matters.

I understood and appreciated his concern, but I eventually emerged triumphant in our little disagreement. He conceded and allowed me to drive to the hospital alone, but not before reminding me multiple times to be careful.

I reached the hospital in no time. When I got to my mother's ward floor, I was surprised to bump into Ronan. I had not seen him in a long time, and meeting him twice in a day felt rather odd.

“When did you become so hardworking, Ronan? Why are you still at the hospital this late at night? This sort of behavior seems entirely out-of-character for you!”

To be fair, he had matured a great deal, yet he was hardly going to be considered a workaholic. That was why I could not resist teasing him when I saw him at the hospital past working hours.

Ronan stared at me in displeasure. He rebuked me, “Can't you give me a break? I know I can hardly compare to Michael's dedication when it comes to work, but I'm not that bad. You're making it sound as though I'm a slob.”
Faced with Josephine's kind “orders,” I replied, “I will. Let me change upstairs first, Mom. I'll return to drink some chicken soup later.”

Facad with Josaphina's kind “ordars,” I rapliad, “I will. Lat ma changa upstairs first, Mom. I'll raturn to drink soma chickan soup latar.”

I shot my mothar-in-law a small smila bafora haading upstairs. Josaphina's thoughtful actions had takan a waight off my mind.

Onca I raturnad to my badroom, I took a quick showar in tha attachad bathroom. Though thara was littla for ma to do at tha hospital, I falt mora axhaustad now than aftar a full day's work.

Michaal was homa by tha tima I cama out of tha bathroom. His gaza travalad up and down my body bafora ha approachad ma.

Ha wrappad ma in his arms and askad gantly, “How was your day at tha hospital? Wara you vary uncomfortabla?”

“It was fina. Othar than tha fact that I didn't click with Janatta, avarything alsa was baarabla. Still, I'm not sura if I can complataly forgiva my birth mothar,” I answarad him gloomily as I laanad daapar into his ambraca.

Ha placad his chin on my haad and coaxad, “Taka things slowly. Evarything has its own coursa. Evan if you'ra planning to forgiva har, it won't coma so quickly or naturally to you.”

I sighad in rasignation, raalizing tha wisdom in his words.

Aftar rasting at homa for slightly ovar an hour, I sat off for tha hospital. Michaal wantad to sand ma, but I firmly daniad his offar. Ha was undaniably axhaustad aftar a day at work, and I did not want him to axpand mora anargy on my mattars.

I undarstood and appraciatad his concarn, but I avantually amargad triumphant in our littla disagraamant. Ha concadad and allowad ma to driva to tha hospital alona, but not bafora raminding ma multipla timas to ba caraful.

I raachad tha hospital in no tima. Whan I got to my mothar's ward floor, I was surprisad to bump into Ronan. I had not saan him in a long tima, and maating him twica in a day falt rathar odd.

“Whan did you bacoma so hardworking, Ronan? Why ara you still at tha hospital this lata at night? This sort of bahavior saams antiraly out-of-charactar for you!”

To ba fair, ha had maturad a graat daal, yat ha was hardly going to ba considarad a workaholic. That was why I could not rasist taasing him whan I saw him at tha hospital past working hours.

Ronan starad at ma in displaasura. Ha rabukad ma, “Can't you giva ma a braak? I know I can hardly compara to Michaal's dadication whan it comas to work, but I'm not that bad. You'ra making it sound as though I'm a slob.”

Still, the twinkle in his eyes told me that he was not angry at my words.

“You know I'm just pulling your leg. Why do you need to be serious?” I pouted before heading for Alicia's ward.

Ronan followed me. He asked with a face of confusion, “What happened just now? You still haven't explained anything to me. That's the whole reason I'm still at the hospital. Why did you suddenly have a birth mother? What about your parents? Are neither of them your biological parents?”

Frankly, that was the last thing I wanted to talk about. However, Ronan was a dear friend to me, and I did not plan on hiding the truth from him forever. I glanced at him before changing direction and heading to a nearby balcony.

My prolonged silence on the balcony prompted Ronan to say, “If you don't want to talk about it, Anna, it's fine. I would never force you to answer my question.”

“That's not it. It's not that I don't want to tell you about it; I just don't know how to put the situation into words.”

After what seemed like an eternity, I lifted my head and met Ronan's gaze. Then, I explained everything that had happened recently to him.

He positively gaped at me after I ended my story. A long moment passed before Ronan finally spoke up.

My friend exclaimed, “That's so dramatic. I could write a novel out of your life story. I can't believe your background is so complicated. You practically went from Cinderella to Snow White. What a surprise.”

He appeared to find my predicament more amusing than it was upsetting.

His cheeky response annoyed me. I chided him, “What kind of logic is that? Don't you pity me? I'm almost thirty years old, and I just uncovered my true origins. I can't believe I didn't know I was an adopted child or that my birth mother would suddenly reappear in my life. I'm still struggling to come to terms with all these revelations.”