One million dollars -- a dream come true for struggling college student Ashlynn Morgan. All she has to do is sign on the dotted line and agree to become surrogate mother for CEO multi billionaire Felix Dunnerson and his wife Deborah.
Yet, during th...
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Minutes click by in slow motion as I stand outside the window of Quentin's room and stare at him. Wires stick out from every part of his body like tentacles from an octopus. The ventilator that helps him breathe covers most of his face.
"Ashlynn, you need to sit down. Or at least drink and eat something."
Felix circles his arms around me from behind; even though his touch bothers me, I don't have the energy to wiggle from his grip.
"How can you be so calm? Aren't you scared he is going to die?" The words sting like vomit on my tongue.
"Of course I'm scared, terrified actually, but that doesn't change the fact that it's out of our control. Staring at him through that glass won't help him."
"But your phone calls do?" I fight off the rising tears that have flown almost nonstop. The utter powerlessness threatens to tear me up from the inside out. I might not be able to help him by staring at him, but truth is that this might be my last opportunity to see him at all.
"Those aren't just phone calls. I've touched base with every renowned neurosurgeon and child neurologist in these past hours to ensure that Quentin is getting the best medical care available and that nothing has been overlooked that could help him."
"And?"
"Every second opinion I got has confirmed that Dr. Wagner is an expert in his field and Quentin is in good hands with him. However, I have other doctors on standby in case he needs another surgery, or Dr. Wagner wants to confer with them. Our son will get the best care money can buy."
My snicker is bitter. Even the dollars coming out of his ears can't guarantee Quentin's survival. Felix is just as powerless as I am.
"I also had to make sure that Deborah can't hurt him again. At the moment, she is still a custodial parent, so I had my lawyers draw up a restraining order. She can't come near him."
"Okay, good." If she had tried, I would probably not able to restrain myself. Wheelchair or not, that bitch deserves some shaking of her own. "Is she still in jail?"
"She made bail and her parents took her to their home. I told them I don't want her near my house and instructed Valencia to pack up most of her things. A mover can take it to her in a few days."
"Are you sure Valencia wasn't involved?"
"Positive. She had a day off and the nurse who cares for Deborah during those times was out in the garden. I'm not sure if Valencia knew about the affair. If she did, I will probably fire her, but that's a problem for another day."
I tilt my head back to catch a glimpse of his face. His lips are pressed together in a thin line and dark shadows rest under his eyes. Add the disheveled hair that must have met plenty of frustrated fingers and he looks a mess.
I glance back at Quentin. He hasn't twitched a finger since I got here; the only movement is the even rising and falling of his chest with the help of a machine that keeps him alive. My shoulders slack. Maybe a few minutes away to refuel my batteries would be okay.
