The Unwanted Wife's Return (Ex-Husband Wants Me Back) novel Chapter 154

A Husband’s Vigil

3RD POV:

“They know you love them,” his mother assured him. “But Elijah, you need to focus on getting better for them, too, not just for Hannah. Those kids would be absolutely lost without you. They need their father healthy and whole.”

Seeing his mother’s tears, seeing the raw fear in her eyes, broke something in Elijah’s heart. He nodded slowly “I will, Mom. I promise. I’ll take care of myself.”

He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it gently, a gesture of comfort and apology.

She smiled through her tears and squeezed his hand back.

They leaned on each other for a few minutes, not speaking. Both of them lost in their own thoughts and fears and hopes.

His father returned about ten minutes later with Dr. Mirren, the lead physician who’d been overseeing both Hannah’s and Elijah’s care. He was a calm, measured man in his mid-fifties with graying hair and kind eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses. His expression was professional but genuinely compassionate.

Dr. Mirren approached Elijah’s bedside carrying a clipboard. “Mr. Martinez,” he said warmly. “It’s very good to see you awake and alert. How are you feeling? Any pain? Dizziness? Difficulty breathing?”

But Elijah didn’t let him finish his assessment. He cut straight to what mattered. “My condition can wait,” he said, his voice rough but absolutely certain. “I need you to tell me everything about Hannah’s condition. Don’t sugarcoat it. I want the truth.”

His mother placed a worried hand over her heart and let out a deep, shaky sigh. But she didn’t interrupt. She knew her son needed to hear this, needed to know what he was dealing with.

Dr. Mirren exhaled gently and set his clipboard down on the side table. He pulled up a chair and sat down, getting on Elijah’s eye level.

“Mrs. Martinez was brought in with several serious conditions,” he began, his tone professional but gentle. Severe smoke inhalation was the primary concern. Her lungs had inhaled significant amounts of smoke, soot, and toxic fumes. She was also suffering from acute dehydration, and she sustained moderate second-degree burns on her left shoulder and upper arm.”

Elijah’s parents blinked rapidly, trying to process all the medical information even though they’d been told most of this before. Hearing it again, stated so clinically, made it feel more real somehow.

Elijah’s breathing hitched. “She couldn’t breathe,” he whispered, the image of her struggling for air flashing through his mind. “In that building, she was suffocating and I couldn’t get to her fast enough.”

“The first possibility, and the one we’re most hopeful for, is that she wakes up soon. Perhaps in the next day or two. She’ll likely be disoriented at first, confused about where she is and what happened. She’ll be physically weak from everything her body has endured. But she’ll be fully herself mentally. Her memories intact. Her personality unchanged. This is the outcome we’re most expecting based on her current progress.”

Elijah’s chest rose and fell shakily as he tried to prepare himself for the other, more terrifying options.

“The second possibility,” Dr. Mirren continued, “is that she wakes up, but with some temporary complications. This could include severe disorientation that lasts longer than normal. Memory gaps, either about the trauma itself or about recent events. Difficulty speaking clearly due to throat damage from the smoke. Or reduced mobility and coordination due to exhaustion and the physical trauma her body endured.”

Elijah’s hands clenched the sheets so tightly his knuckles went white. His father placed a firm hand on his shoulder, giving it a tight, supportive squeeze.

“And the third possibility?” Elijah asked, his voice barely audible. He was licking his bottom lip nervously, a habit he’d had since childhood when he was anxious.

His mother gripped the edge of the bed with both hands, bracing herself for the answer.

Dr. Mirren exhaled slowly, and his tone softened even further. “The third possibility is that waking up simply takes longer than we’d like. That her body decides it needs more time, Days, potentially. Or in some cases, weeks. Sometimes even months. A prolonged recovery period while her system continues to slowly stabilize and heal from everything it’s been through.”

His father shut his eyes in silent dread, his jaw clenching. But Elijah’s gaze never left the doctor. He was searching the man’s face for any hint of what he really thought would happen.