Divorcing My Cold Hearted Celebrity Husband.
Chapter 80 --80. (The Third Option).
CHAPTER 80: CHAPTER-80. (THE THIRD OPTION).
Sometimes, I feel like what if I could turn back time. Would I have fallen in love with him? Again?
Or would I have just ignored him and continued with my life, ’oh-so-perfect-life’.
Maybe I would have chosen the second option when I first saw him with Becka in that hotel room, but now?
I think I would have chosen the third option...
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It was all dark around me, but my mind was still working. That slow and steady, mechanical beep kept humming somewhere near my head. Then the faint sting of disinfectant felt too overbearing for me, like it was burning my nostrils.
I tried moving, but my body did not cooperate. My arms felt heavy, almost like heavy metal. My chest ached like something was pressing down on it, and my ribs screamed when I drew in a breath.
Slowly, the pieces of memories started to set in...like a puzzle.
The car chasing.
Josh swearing as the wheel spun.
Caroline’s scream tearing in my ear.
The crash...Oh God, the sound of it still rattled in my skull. And then my mind spun, and the first face which came in front of me was...Dave.
Dave, hanging limp from his seatbelt with blood dripping off his temple. I bit back a sob, but the memory was cruel, replaying in front of my eyes like a film.
For a second, I wondered if I was dead. The room was too bright, and the walls seemed too white.
Sheets tucked too neatly around me. Everything felt wrong, but in that eerie, perfect way. Then a shadow leaned over me. A man stood there wearing glasses, and a white coat, and he carried a clipboard in his hand.
"You’re awake," he said gently, like he was trying not to scare me. I blinked at him, my lips too dry to answer. My head started to ache as I tried to recall his familiar face.
Maybe he saw the tension on my face when he introduced himself, "Apologies for not introducing myself."
The corner of his lips curved as he continued, "I am Dr. James. I am the same doctor who was treating Mr. Dave Morris."
Realization hit me as I recalled him. James was one of the doctors who worked for Morris’ medical team. He was also the one who examined Dave.
He started to speak, breaking the chain of my thoughts, "You have been unconscious for nearly two days. You have a concussion, bruising across your chest, and a fractured rib."
I took in a deep breath, which hurt a little, but I managed the pain as my mind registered the list of things that had happened to me in that accident.
"Though it had been a lot, you managed to recover. You are safe now." His last words kept ringing in my ear.
Safe. He said safe, but my throat tightened anyway. I was not the only one in that car.
I managed to recover, but what about others? My eyes darted to him as my voice cracked, yet I pushed the words out, "The others...Caroline? Josh?"
The doctor gave a small nod as he replied with a small smile, "Both are fine. There were a few bruises and fractures. Like you, they also suffered from a concussion, but nothing major. They will also recover."
Relief washed over me. They were safe. Thank you, God. I really meant it. Thank you for saving us.
I kept thanking God in my mind until I felt something warm and wet on my face. James’s brows also furrowed as I touched my face. It was tears that fell from my eyes.
James adjusted his glasses as he spoke, "You don’t have to cry, Mrs. Morris. The worst has passed." His kind words filled my chest with warmth when Nicole and Grace’s faces came in front of my eyes.
I hurriedly looked at him as I asked, "And Nicole? Grace?" At last, my voice was barely there, as my throat went drier.
"They were not seriously injured. Just a few cuts." He replied.
I let out a shaky breath, tension unloading from my chest for the first time since I woke up. They were alive. All of them. Alive.
Then the question that was clouding my mind struck me. My throat felt drier as I tried to form the question, "What about... Dave?"
The doctor did not answer right away, making my heart beat faster each second.
And when his small smile faltered, my heart skipped a beat. His gaze first flickered down to the chart, then to the floor. The silence stretched too long, almost making me suffocate.
In that moment, something in me broke. "Please," I whispered, desperation cracking me open. "How is he? Is he... is he alive?"
Finally, the doctor looked at me. His expression stayed calm, but his voice was careful as if even one wrong word could destroy everything. He took in a deep breath as he revealed, "He survived the crash," he said.
The words should have felt like hope, but the weight behind them pressed harder on my chest than the broken ribs ever could.
My lips trembled, "How...serious?" The words barely came out of my mouth, and that’s when he went quiet. Total Silent.
He did not even look at me as his jaw tightened. He tapped his pen lightly against the clipboard.
My breath turned shallow as my pulse raced so fast that the monitor betrayed me, making the beeps climb higher and higher.
In that silence, my mind filled the gaps with the worst images possible.
Dave is bleeding out.
Him not waking up.
I clenched the sheets as my chest heaved.
Tears stung my eyes, but they refused to fall. My heart ached like someone had stabbed it a thousand times.
The doctor finally placed a hand on the railing of my bed, his voice soft but firm. "I know it’s hard for you, but you need to focus on your recovery first, rest up. I will come later to check."
This time, he did not wait for me to respond and turned to the left.
As he shut the door behind him, the silence started to ring in my ears, my mind screaming louder than him, or this deafening silence.
All I could see was Dave’s face, pale and still, blood dripping down his head. God, why must you do such a thing?
And lying there, trembling under those blinding lights, my mind kept repeating his words when the door of my room again opened.
As the person entered the room, he revealed his face, and my breath hitched. I then called him out.