BREATHE: A Billionaire Romance, Part Five (3 page)

Chapter 6

 

Those few seconds of walking back into another hospital room, were seconds that I never cared to re-live again. Walking into Derek’s room and seeing him lying on the hospital bed, frail and weak, was probably my biggest nightmare ever since the fateful day I found him in a puddle of his own vomit.

I just had to keep reminding myself that he was there for a better reason this time. Both times he as there to get better, but last time it seemed like he was on his last limb. However, this time was different—this time was going to be the first of everything else to come, not the last.

I moved slowly towards the bed before reaching the singular chair placed beside the bed. I sighed, and I cringed at the sight of him with IVs plugged into his veins. One was red. Blood red to be exact, and I became lightheaded just looking at it.

I hated the sight of blood.

But beyond all else, it all just looked so uncomfortable.

I leaned towards the bed and reached out to stroke his hair, which had notably grown longer over the past couple of days.

“Der, you sure are full of surprises aren’t you,” I cooed, wiping small stray hairs from over his brows.

“A woman sure has to be strong to be with you.” I took a deep breath, and a small pain shot through my spine. I grunted just before shifting in my chair so that I could sit more comfortably. “And I’m not sure if I am, but dammit, I’m trying to be.”

“You’re doing a good job,” he whispered, completely surprising me. I thought he was asleep. He opened his eyes and grinned up at me.

“Ya know, if you woulda told me on the first date that we had that you’d be this big of a pain in the ass, I might have turned tail and ran.” I laughed, tears burning the brims of my eyes. I hated seeing him like it, but I found humor in him, and how much I loved him.

He chuckled a bit, not hurt at all by what I said… and that only sealed the deal even more for me. He knew I wasn’t serious. And he was almost impossible to offend.

The only thing that really bothered him was me talking negatively about his stepbrother…his good for nothing stepbrother.

“Promise me you’ll go home tonight and get some rest,” he said. And I could tell that he was serious.

“I promise.” I lied. Truthfully, I wasn’t going anywhere.

I was going to remain at his side… all day, and all night. Even if it killed me. And even if I had to sleep in the most uncomfortable chair known to man.

Which I did…

I had slept, in an in-and-out sort of way, all day, as Derek drifted in and out of consciousness.

I was even asleep when I heard a creak at the door. The sound startled me and was the entire reason I jolted awake in the first place.

It was dark in the room, and I knew that it had to be late, so who could have possibly been there at such a late hour?

But when my eyes finally adjusted, I could do nothing more than flash a half smile when I saw a young male nurse standing with his head poked inside the door way. He was checking on us.

But there wasn’t a lot going on.

I was a dud and so was the ever-sleeping-Derek.

He had been asleep almost all day, and I lay sprawled out on the chair beside him, clutching his sweaty hand. It was sort of gross, but I didn’t have the heart to let him go.

“Would you like a blanket?” the man asked, sweetly, and I thought for a moment…

Hell yeah I wanted a blanket! I didn’t even realize how cold it was until he asked.

“Yes, please, if it isn’t too much trouble.” I brought my knees up to my chest and readjusted the way I was sitting in the chair, so that I was almost laying in it.

“No trouble at all!” he pepped in a whisper, so not to disturb Derek just before his head slipped back through the door.

But it wasn’t but just a moment or two later that the young man came back with a warm blanket and pillow. Half asleep, I felt him drape the heavy fabric over my shoulder and move the pillow beneath my head. And just as quickly as he came, I felt him scurry off.

I sighed and snuggled into the large, thick blanket, not even caring that it was a bit itchy. I only cared that it was warm, and I was more than just a little tired.

I was exhausted.

I wasn’t sure how I drifted off to sleep in the position that I was in, but more than anything I didn’t know how I
stayed
asleep. I slept in a one person chair, with my knees to my chest, the entire night? It was crazy.

I didn’t know how it was possible.

And I didn’t have a clue how I wasn’t absolutely sore the next morning, but I wasn’t. I felt better than when I had gone to sleep in all actuality. The only thing I did know, though, when I awoke that morning, was that I needed coffee. And more even more than coffee, I
really
needed something humungous to eat. I felt like I was starving to death, like my stomach was devouring my entire body, and no matter how dramatic I thought I was being, it didn’t matter. I was probably hungrier than I had ever been, and I couldn’t recall the last time I had eaten.

Chapter 7

 

As I moved to sit down with the food I had just grabbed from the cafeteria, Laura and Stephen walked into the room.

They were discussing God-knows-what as they turned the corner, but all I managed to hear was “cows don’t feed on human remains, Laura!” so I thought it best not to even begin to ask what in the blue hell they were actually discussing.

“Hey hon, how is he?” Laura asked as she approached me.

“He’s…out cold. He has been most of the night and day. In and out. Super tired.” I tried to explain it all with as few words as possible, because truthfully I was exhausted as well.

It was always a problem of mine; I never
could
sleep in a hospital. But I certainly wasn’t going to leave. The mere thought of it caused my heart to ache and a knot to swell in my throat.

“Honey, why don’t you go home?” my sister asked, just before placing her hand on my shoulder. She was clearly worried. And I was annoyed by it.

I sighed and shook my head. I knew that if I left I would have been beating myself up about it; even if Derek had told me to go home and get some rest just hours before.

I just knew that I couldn’t.

“Don’t be stupid!” Stephen blurted out, and as soon as the words left his mouth, I heard a breathy grunt. My head snapped up, and I noticed that he was hunched over, holding his stomach in pain. I smirked. Laura must have elbowed him or something.

“Don’t confuse my neutrality towards you with my actually liking you,” I warned, narrowing my eyes.

He laughed. “Didn’t Derek tell you to get some damn rest, though?”

“He might have, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to.”

“You’re already grumpy; you need sleep before you tear everyone’s heads off.”

“Give me a break. I’m not a toddler that missed naptime.”

He rolled his eyes at me, but I ignored him as I finished off my last bit of biscuit.

“You know Mama is going to kick your ass,” Laura whispered, just before having a seat on the hospital bed, right next to Derek.

It had been two days, and I had hardly moved from my chair. And I knew that Mama wasn’t happy about it. I knew no one was. But what was I supposed to do about it?

“Well, Mama isn’t here…,” I trailed, finishing off my last bite.

But it no longer left my mouth when she turned the corner, a visible scowl on her face.

“How’s he doing?” she asked, and I knew she genuinely cared, but I also knew that she was only asking about Derek first—before she tore into me for staying there.

“They say he’s doing great!” I pepped, hoping that my positivity might shadow her concern about me. However, she wasn’t an idiot. She knew exactly what I was doing. I never could put anything passed her. She knew everything.

“Why haven't you gone home and gotten in the bed or even gone to work?” she demanded, ignoring my peppiness as she rested her hands at her hips. She looked at me, unblinking, as if she was peering into my soul questioningly. “Just because your boyfriend is the boss doesn’t mean you can just blaze in and out and miss work whenever you feel like it!”

She was gaining on me, but I wouldn’t move.

“I think he’ll understand if I don’t go to work!” I shot in my own defense, just before standing up from the chair. I didn’t even begin to have the emotional stamina to put up with work at the moment; and I was a little offended that she would even suggest that I try.

“Well, lookey here!” Mama shouted, looking around the room as if she was talking to an audience. “Somebody got her lazy butt up off that chair!!”

“That’s enough!”

“No, I’m just getting started!” she yelled, grabbing my ear. “Look at that man!” She held my ear firmly and moved my head so that my eyes were facing him.

“I see him!” I bellowed. “I’ve been looking at him; he’s all I’ve been looking at!”

“Exactly!” she yelled. “That’s the problem!”

“Mama, just please let me be with him,” I said, tears falling from my eyes. I hated being vulnerable in front of anyone, especially my mama. She was the strongest person—other than Derek—that I knew, and I really hated looking weak in comparison.

She tensed for a moment, her expression becoming one of worry, and maybe even a tinge of sadness. She sighed and nodded faintly. “You can be here during the day, but please go home and sleep for tonight?” she asked. Well, sort of asked. She was really telling me in a way that sounded like I had a choice. But clearly, I didn’t have a choice if her presence and previous outbursts were any indication. “I came all the way over here to tell you that.”

“Listen to your mama…,” Derek groaned from his bed, clearly awoken by our outbursts.

I sighed and nodded. Maybe they were right; I didn’t know. All I knew was that I didn’t want to leave. But if it would get everyone off my back for me to just go lay down at home, then so be it.

I would do whatever it took to make everyone happy, especially Derek.

Chapter 8

 

Thanks to the blood transfusion, he was doing much better medically speaking. And thanks to a day of sleeping at home, I was doing much better. Turns out, they were all probably right about my much needed rest at home.

I hated to admit it, but it worked.

Upon walking into the hospital the next day, I had been warned that Derek would likely be disoriented and weak for a while, but I expected as much. Hell, that seemed to be the story of my life with Derek. He was always tired and disoriented when he was in the hospital.

I hated it though. I hated how vulnerable Derek looked while he was there. He was Derek Sholts. He was the most intimidating man that I had ever seen, let alone ever met. Far more intimidating than even Stephen, who was large and strong and built like a brick shithouse.

He didn't need all the machines wired up to him, or all the IVs pumping shit into him. He had survived—so far—by just his own amazing will.

He was strong and unwavering.

And to see him powerless, on a hospital bed, was something I hated with every fiber of my being. It was devastatingly cruel to see someone so incredibly powerful as vulnerable and weak as he was in that instant.

And in truth, it broke my heart.

I lowered myself back into my signature seat and looked at Derek’s pale face. I sighed, grabbing the arms of the chair and moving closer. Someone had moved my chair, I noted. I was always close enough to grab his hand.

With a loud creak across the floor, I had finally found the proper position once again.

His eyes opened to look at me, but only just barely. I could tell that he was only half awake.

"Hey, Der…” I swallowed uneasily. “The doctors say that you’re going to be aye-okay.”

Tears stung my eyes and the notorious lump in my throat reared its ugly head and swelled up just enough so that my breath caught.

“We have to figure out what happened though.”

I felt his eyes bear into my soul just before he nodded gloomily.

“It isn’t Doc though. Don’t bring it up.”

And that was all he said before closing his eyes once again, and drifting off to sleep.

It all annoyed me in truth. Not only would he not even once hold suspicion towards “Doc” but also because he referred to him as “Doc”. Joey Freeman was a terrible doctor—even if he wasn’t a terrible human being. And as far as I was concerned, he was no longer Derek’s doctor.

He wasn’t the one taking care of him.

That was Dr. Lawrence.

Not Joey Freeman.

But no matter. I would deal with it all when the time came. I already had a plan brewing on how to prove my suspicions to be true.

I had nuzzled into my chair once again, not meaning to drift off—and not even knowing that I had until consciousness slowly returned. When my eyes fluttered open, I hazily remembered that I had dozed off at some point in the day, and when I awoke I realized that my back ached with all that it was worth.

And I knew that it was because of that damned chair and the way I had slept.

I cursed beneath my breath, rising up to sit more properly in the demonic and uncomfortable piece of shit. I blinked, quickly, hoping for my eyes to adjust to the streetlight that shined in surprisingly brightly through the windows.

When my eyes finally adjusted so that I could see, I saw that Derek was awake, his eyes open, his hand wrapped around mine firmly.

“I told you to go home at night and get proper rest…,” he sighed, holding onto me tightly. “You didn’t even notice you were holding my hand, you’ve been holding it so long.”

I smiled. “I can’t believe you’re awake!”

A joyful grin split my face basically in half. I bet I looked like the damn Joker or something. I was elated, my eyes glistening with tears of pure joy.

“I should go get the nurse, probably!” I sang like a crazy peppy girl. I was excited. He was awake—for longer than two seconds!

Although he looked as if he was struggling to keep his head up and to keep his eyes from blinking in tiredness, he was still awake.

I also noticed his skin was healthier looking—white with red-hued undertones, rather than yellow. He was starting to look normal. He looked good.

It was then that I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that we would get through this. Together. No matter what happened. We would fight it all together… and by God, we were going to get our happily ever after.

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