Page 181 of The Elusive Billionaire
“You heard that right?” I’ve lost control of my emotions. The floodgates are opening, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. “Right?” I shout. “Please tell me someone else heard her. Savvy, please. Please open your eyes.”
Madi jumps out of her chair. I can feel her hands sliding all along the bed, and in my periphery, I see her pulling a red emergency cord.
“Did you hear her, Madi?” Each word is a plea exhaled on a painful sob. “Someone fucking tell me they heard her too.”
“We heard, Grey.” Madi has tears cascading down her face, and this time, I succumb to them as well. I shudder and shake as hope fills in the cracks of my damaged heart.
“Why won’t she open her eyes?” I’m pleading, begging, for answers. I thought I felt fear when I saw her fly into the air. But this is almost worse. “Monroe, open your goddamn eyes.”
The door bursts open, and the nurse pauses to take in the number of people disobeying their two-visitor rule.
“Forget about them, get over here,” I yell. “She spoke. Two whole sentences. We heard her. We all heard her.”
The door opens again, and three doctors barrel into the room.
“Everyone out. Clear the room,” one of them shouts.
“I’m not going anywhere.” The vehemence in my tone startles him, and he swallows thickly before nodding.
“We need everyone else out then, give us some room to work,” the doctor I recognize says.
“Out. Everyone out,” I bark.
“Easy, Grey.” Two words spoken by an angel. My angel.
“See?” I can’t control the hysteria in my tone, and I don’t have the bandwidth to try.
As our family filters out of the room, Savvy’s eyes flutter open for less than three seconds.
But it was enough to see her, to know she’s in there, awake, and coming back to me.
The doctors crowd the bed, but I keep hold of her hand and drop to my knees.
She came back to me.
She didn’t leave.
She kept her promise.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
SAVVY
It feelslike a lifetime of being poked, prodded, and sent for test after test before I’m finally wheeled back into my room, where apparently Grey has been pacing a rut into the flooring for the last six hours.
His eyes are red and puffy.
He’s sporting a freaking beard, and I don’t hate it.
But it’s the vacancy in his eyes that burns like a branding.
I put those shadows there with my callous words and lies.
The nurse engages the lock on my bed, then checks my vitals for the fourth time this hour. We won’t know the extent of my injuries until more tests are run, but cognitively, they believe I’ll make a full recovery.
A recovery no one but Grey thought would happen.
While the nurses took me for tests, they told me how stubborn and bossy Grey has been.
