Page 59 of The Executive Assistant

I didn’t care enough, and I suffered the consequences.

“That’s true,” I admitted. “I bury myself in my work, whether I’m at the office or at home.”

Dr. Adams frowned. “Well, it’s clear what happened. You got sick from overworking and exhaustion, which ledto your immune system being severely compromised from stress.”

I nodded as I listened to him. I did this to myself. How could I treat myself so horribly and expect everything around me to prosper?

“You need to rest and find balance in your life,” Dr. Adams told me sternly. “The way you’ve been living isn’t sustainable. You’ll be looking at a whole slate of other health issues if you don’t change.”

“What kind of health issues?”

“Heart disease, stroke, diabetes, and gastrointestinal diseases can be linked to stress,” Dr. Adams replied.

My stomach dropped. I’d heard stress could kill, but I thought it was just an exaggeration.

“I did get the flu after pulling all-nighters in college,” I admitted. “But other than that, I’ve been fine.”

“You should’ve learned your lesson back then,” he said. “You might be okay now, but think about what would happen if you keep this up for another ten or twenty years.”

“Work’s just such a big part of my life,” I said in a small voice.

He nodded. “I understand. As a doctor, even I struggle maintaining a proper work-life balance, but it has to be done. You need to balance your work with adequate sleep, exercise, and time with friends and family to recharge. Limit your work only to the office if possible.”

I couldn’t argue with that. “I’ll do better,” I promised.

No wonder Cameron was so concerned. He could see me deteriorating right in front of his eyes, and I was so damn stubborn that I didn’t listen to him.

Dr. Adams offered me a kind smile and patted my shoulder. “There are more important things than work.”

How many people had said that to me, and how many times had I brushed those words off? I felt uncertainty and guilt. Guilt about how I treated myself and how I treated others. I put work first because it was the most natural thing for me to do.

Sure, I wanted success. But was I ready to pay the cost?

“Thank you,” I said. “I needed to hear that.”

“A lot of people do. The good thing is that you’re young, and you have time to fix your habits and your health.”

“I will,” I assured him.

“Get some rest. I want to keep you here overnight for observation. Tomorrow, we’ll check your vitals and hopefully send you on your way,” Dr. Adams told me before bidding me goodnight.

I watched him leave, exhaling slowly and shakily. I wasn’t anywhere near dying, but it felt like I took a glimpse of my death. Weak and tired. Sick and pale.

That wasn’t what I wanted for myself. I wanted so much more for my life, and for once, work was the last thing on my mind.

The next morning, I was dying to leave the hospital. As nice as all the nurses and doctors were, there were things I wanted to do and people I wanted to talk to. Being in the hospital just reminded me of all the mistakes I made. Not failures. Mistakes.

“Vitals look good,” Dr. Adams told me as the dark-haired nurse handed him my chart. “How are you feeling?”

“I feel much better,” I said. I’d had big meals, got a lot of sleep, and my mind felt much clearer. The sunlight was warm and seemed brighter today, and I hoped that things were going to look up from here on out.

“Good. You can be discharged,” Dr. Adams told me with a pleased grin. “We’ll get you the paperwork, and then you can leave.”

“Great, thank you.”

Once the nurse brought me the discharge paperwork, I signed everything and changed back into my clothes, feeling relieved to be out of the hospital gown. I strode out of the hospital room stronger than before, but I didn’t push it. I didn’t magically heal over two days, even if I felt better. Dr. Adams had given me a list of vitamins and supplements that I could take to help repair some of the damage that I had done to my body. I was going to have a pretty stacked shopping list this week.

When I stepped into the reception area, I froze in place at the sight of Cameron signing in at the front desk. “Cameron?”

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