After Rejection Divorced Luna Becomes A Famous Doctor (Hailey and Dominic) novel Chapter 213

CHAPTER HUNDRED SIXTYFIVE-T

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CHAPTER HUNDRED-SIXTYFIVE-1

VALERIE

The next morning, I awoke to the nostalgic scent of antiseptic and the hum of the hospital room. I had fallen asleep in the chair next to Giovanni’s bed my hand still clasped in his. He was still on the

ventilator, but he was breathing on his own more often, the machines sighing in relief rather than fighting for each breath.

His eyes were open, watching me. There was a new clarity in them, a sharpness that hadn’t been

there yesterday. He was present. He was here.

“Morning,” I whispered, my voice still thick with sleep. “Did you sleep well?”

He blinked once.

I smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile that reached my eyes. “Good. I’m glad. Phoenix is doing well, by

the way. He misses you. We all miss you.”

His gaze softened, and I saw a flicker of something in his eyes, a longing that mirrored my own. He

wanted to hold me, to hold our son, to go back to the way things were. And I wanted that too.

More than anything.

A nurse came in to check on him, a perky, efficient woman who seemed to have a smile

permanently affixed to her face. “Well, look who’s awake!” she chirped, her voice a little too bright

for the early hour. “We’re making progress, aren’t we?”

Giovanni blinked once, his eyes fixed on mine.

“I’ll just be a minute,” the nurse said, bustling around the room, checking the monitors, adjusting the IV. “Then we can try to get you up for a little while. A little bit of movement will do you good.”

I watched her, a knot of anxiety tightening in my stomach. I wanted to be alone with him. I wanted

to talk to him, to really talk to him, without the constant interruptions, the clinical chatter, the

sterile, impersonal atmosphere of the hospital.

As if sensing my thoughts, the nurse finished her tasks with a final, cheerful smile. “All done!” she

said, her hands on her hips. “I’ll be back in a bit to help you with your exercises. Just press the call

button if you need anything.”

She left, and the room fell silent once more, the only sounds the rhythmic beep of the heart

monitor and the soft whisper of the ventilator.

I leaned in closer, my lips near his ear. “I know you can’t talk,” I whispered, my voice low and

conspiratorial. “But you can hear me. I just want to talk to you. I’ve missed hearing your voice, miss feeling your arms around my body. I misseverything about you. It’s been depressing doing life

without you, it’s feeling like I’m losing my mind.”

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I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what I was about to say next. “Yasmine came to see me a

couple days back. She came to see you, actually. And she was acting all concerned and sympathetic, but I saw right through her, Giovanni. I saw the truth in her eyes. She was the one who

did this. I know it was her.”

I paused, watching his face, searching for any sign of a reaction. His expression was confused, not

the angry I wanted. He was blinking, but it was slow and erratic, a flicker of incomprehension in his eyes. He didn’t understand. The memories were still fragmented, buried beneath the trauma and

the medication.

“It’s okay,” I said, my voice softening. “You don’t have to remember right now. You just have to focus on getting better. We’ll handle the rest. I promise.”

His eyes closed, a long, slow blink, and when they opened again, they were clearer, more focused. He was trying. He was trying to remember.

I squeezed his hand, a silent message of support and encouragement. “Take your time,” I said. “We’re not going anywhere. We’ll be right here when you’re ready. I just want you to focus on healing. Getting out of that bed so you can come home. To me. To your family. To our son. He can’t do life without his father by his side. You know that I have lost a mate before and I can’t go

through that again. I refuse to.”

A single tear escaped from the corner of his eye, tracing a path down his temple. I wiped it away with my thumb, my heart aching with a love so profound it was almost painful. He was in there. My Giovanni was in there. And he was fighting. He would always fight. For me. For our son. For us.

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