The Playboy's Misfortune

28: Luxury

"Wanna say that I miss you
But I don't wanna need to
Be the one to hold on for the longest time
I don't know, I don't need to
Be so cold when I'm with you"

~-~-~

A week went by.

An entire week and Chelsea still hadn't woken up.

She was being given the best treatment possible but I had no idea where things were going wrong.

Mathew would call me often to report things at the company. He said that we were facing losses as I wasn't there. The investors were withdrawing because they didn't want to deal with an invisible CEO.

When Patrick was in charge, he was irresponsible. I believed that it was on purpose. A man of his caliber had neglected all responsibilities as the CEO and was sticking around just to show off his power.

I'd have to make up for all that as well.

But not now.

"I won't return until Chelsea wakes up and that is final," I hung up on Mathew.

There were stacks of cash in my bank account. I could live in luxury without a job for at least ten more years. If that was how long Chelsea would take to wake up, so be it.

I hadn't even taken Lucy home. But I didn't feel like returning there without my wife.

Even though it had been just a week, I was losing hope.

What if Chelsea never wakes up as Dr.Hudson predicted?

What if the medicines fail to help her?

What if Lucy grows up with a bedridden mother?

Just the mention of her in my thoughts and Lucy began crying in the room next door. I had safely put her to sleep in the afternoon, but it had been just an hour.

My chair was pulled fairly close to Chelsea's bed but my thoughts kept wandering. I leaned back and closed my eyes, hoping to silence everything around me—my daughter's screams, the hopeless beeping of the heart monitor. To be honest, I hadn't gotten a wink of proper sleep after the accident.

Something touched my knee.

Probably, a bug.

I ignored the feeling and attempted to sleep again.

But once again, there was a light tap.

The hospital room was sterilized.

There could be no bugs.

Fuck.

I opened my eyes and stared at the finger that was gently tapping my knee.

Chelsea was trying something.

Her eyes were closed shut but she seemed to be frowning. My wife attempted to move her head. It almost looked like she was having a nightmare.

Whatever it was, she was regaining consciousness.

"Dr.Hudson!" I hurried out of the room and Camille looked up from the reception.

"Chelsea's waking up."

She gasped, "I'll call the doctor right away!" I went back inside and sat by my wife's bed. Her hand was firmly in mine and I could tell she was trying to squeeze me back.

"Open your eyes, Chelsea. Come on," I whispered.

By the time Dr.Hudson and his team came into the room, Chelsea slowly cracked her eyes open. She was trying to say something. "It's alright Mrs.Xander, try to relax," Dr.Hudson told her.