College Senior and actress Savannah Duley meets complicated and repressed billionaire business mogul, Alexander Holt. Their on and off again relationship starts to worry her when people around her warn her that maybe Alexander's "love" might be more...
I sit there with Alexander for hours, my head resting at his side, his hand in mine, and a few times I feel him move his hand to brush his fingers through my hair.
"Lex," I say. "You have to be okay. Tell me you're gonna be okay. You have to be okay. We're having a baby."
He says nothing.
"Sweetie," Jocelyn says. "Are you hungry? I can go get you some food."
"Maybe," I say.
"You need to take care of yourself still, especially in your condition."
"Shhh," I say. "I haven't told him yet."
Jocelyn glances over at him. "You just told him."
"He's not awake," I say, tears rolling down my cheeks.
My phone dings and I see it's a message from someone I haven't spoken to in a long time. My brother.
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I toss my phone into my purse and drop my head at Alexander's side again, sobs coming harder now as I climb into the bed with him. The nurse walks into the room and sees me lying next to him in his bed and she says, "I'm sorry, dear, but you can't stay there."
She pulls on my arm for me to move and I push her away, saying, "Leave me! Leave me!"
"I understand this situation must be distressing for you, dear," the nurse says, "But we need to take him for some tests."
I sit up and say, "What kind of tests?"
"He was in a very serious accident and the doctor wants a scan of his brain and spine to be sure there is no permanent damage there."
"Just tell me he's going to be alright," I say, wiping my eyes. "We're getting married in three weeks."
"The scans should tell us a lot more," she says. But that answer isn't good enough for me as she prepares Alexander to take him for testing, unplugs his monitors and hangs his IV bag on a cart, and she says, "You can wait here while I take him for a CT scan of his brain."
"Why is he having a scan of his brain?"
The nurse doesn't answer me so I'm frustrated now and I demand, "I want to speak to a doctor."
She walks out of the room and Jocelyn walks back in with food and a drink for me, saying, "Any news?"
"No. Nothing at all."
She hands me a drink and sets the box of food on the table. Only moments later, a doctor walks in.
"Dr. Reynolds, how can I help?" he says, extending his hand for mine.
"I want to know about Alexander's condition. No one has told me anything," I say.
"You're the fiance?" he asks.
"Yes."
"Well, Mr. Holt suffered head trauma in the accident and he has a broken rib, possibly some internal bleeding, and other internal trauma. I'm sending him for more testing soon and we will know more."
"What do you mean head trauma? Is that why he isn't speaking to me?"
"Possibly. He just may be tired because I have him on a decent dose of Morphine for his pain."
"Is he going to be alright?"
"It's hard to say the extent of his injuries at the moment, but if you're asking if he's going to live..."
"That's what I'm asking."
"Yes. He should live."
"Should or will?" I say sternly.
"Will. He will live."
The doctor walks out and only a few minutes later another man enters the room. His face is solemn and he says to me, "Are you Savannah Duley?"
"I am. You are?"
"My name is Oliver Beddington. I'm Mr. Holt's attorney."
"Why are you here?"
"I'm here to inform you that in the event Mr. Holt does not recover, he has left all his assets to you."
"Everything?"
"Mr. Holt has 16.7 billion dollars in assets and all of it is yours in the event of his death, Miss Duley."
I gasp, and Jocelyn says, "Thank you, Beddington."
