The Billionaire's Ex-Wife

Awake

Lemme just say right from the start that I don't know shit about the medical field and most of the stuff in this chapter is what I assume that goes on in a hospital. I'm so hopeless in this field 😂😂

So sorry if it sounds really stupid!

Alison's POV.

To think that I were the reasoning for Blake's pale face, steady breathing and the multiple tubes winding across plastic white tables, was the worst feeling I had ever encountered.

The nurses had disappeared from sight after taking his vitals, dark eyebrows pinched together with concern as she muttered a string of numbers to the short woman beside her who hastily scribbled them down upon the paper perched against her clipboard.

"How is he?"Elizabeth whispers, thin arms holding her knees to her chest as she lifts her chin to face the white uniformed woman with lifeless brown eyes.

The nurse purses her lips, her tongue hitting the roof of her mouth, "His body is responding surprisingly well to the medicine. Most of the internal injuries are healing slowly..."

"But?"

It's not Elizabeth that speaks but Jake, tired eyes watching the lady hopefully, pale blue shirt crumpled in his hands.

"His body is still much too weak to fend for itself. We are affirmative he will wake up, though."she adds hastily, a pitiful smile lacing her chapped lips, "The question is when."

"Oh."

The woman I had once known, the fiery, loud-mouth lady I had met from the collision of our heads now looked as if the life had been sucked from her.

Elizabeth looks distraught, hair thin and greasy, almost lifeless as she gazes mournfully at the unmoving outline of her step brother nestled under the strikingly white sheets.

I can only watch on hopelessly as the nurses trails out of the room, the door closing behind them softly, breathing shallow and eyes swollen.

The guilt was eating me alive, my words towards the man I once loved replaying in my mind.

Get the fuck away from me!

Do you believe that I'll buy all that crap?

I hate you.

Screw you.

I'm sobbing again, heavy tears falling from bold lashes as I crumble to the floor, knees giving out beneath me.

I can't breathe.

The guilt is too much.

The regret. The wishing for time to unravel.

For a second chance.

My chest hurts, the pain of a thousand knives digging into the raw skin reflecting against me, fingernails scraping at my arms as I bawl.

"I'm sorry."I cry, vision blurred as I hold his hand in mine, voice quivering and chest aching with indescribable pain.

"I'm so sorry."

Gentle hands press against my shoulders, fingertips rubbing smooth circles upon my skin.

And then strong arms are pulling me to my feet, large hands holding me delicately as if were a newborn child.

"Shh. It'll be okay."

I'm sorry.

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