Billionaire, I Am Not Your Wife! novel Chapter 54

Chapter 52: Taking A Gamble

Cameron’s POV

“Twenty percent chance of remission. Perhaps another fifteen or twenty percent chance of her life being extended without full remission-months to a year or more. The rest either see no benefit or experience complications that are also fatal.”

Frank looked at each of us in turn. “I want to be very clear about what I’m proposing.

This treatment is aggressive to the point of being dangerous. Most doctors wouldn’t even recommend this and would advise on hospice. Sedona would experience severe side effects, far more greater than what she is experiencing now. There would be days, possibly weeks, where she’d be ill, where she’d question whether survival is worth the cost. And at the end of it, there’s better than a fifty percent chance it doesn’t work.

“But there’s a chance,” I said.

“There’s a chance.”

I looked at my parents. My mother had tears rolling down her face, not crying out loud but the tears were continuous. My father was gripping the edge of the table hard enough that his knuckles had gone white from holding it too hard. He was using it as a support.

“We have to try,” Jennifer said. “We just got her back. We barely made memories together since her return. We can’t-we can’t not try.”

“It’s not our decision,” Parker said quietly.

“It’s Sedona’s. This is her life, her body, her choice to make.”

“She’s not conscious-”

“Then we wait until she is.” My father’s voice was firm. “We wait, and we explain the options, and we let her decide. That’s what we should have done five years ago instead of trying to control her life. We’re not making that mistake again.”

Frank nodded. “I agree. When she wakes up-and she will wake up, the sedation is temporary-I’ll explain everything to her. All the options, all the risks, all the potential outcomes. Then she decides.” He paused.

“For what it’s worth, I think Sedona is one of the strongest patients I’ve ever treated. If anyone can survive this kind of treatment, she can. But I also think she deserves to make that choice with full information, not because we’re pressuring her to fight when she might prefer to spend her remaining time differently.”

“When can we see her?” I asked.

“She’ll be moved to ICU shortly. You can visit once she’s settled, but she won’t be conscious for several more hours because she is under sedative. I’d suggest going home, getting some rest, taking a shower and then coming back this evening.”

He saw our expressions and added, “She’s stable. She’s safe. You being here while she’s unconscious doesn’t help her, and you all need to be strong when she wakes up. She’s going to need you.”

I didn’t go home. I couldn’t. I sent my parents and Rachel and Enzo away, promising to call if anything changed, and then I stayed in the ICU waiting room and stared at the wall and tried to process what Frank had told us.

Weeks. Maybe days.

Or the experimental treatment that had a twenty percent chance of saving her and a higher chance of killing her.

I thought about the conversation we’d had in the Chicago hotel room, when she’d promised me she wouldn’t give up, that she would try one more time. When I’d told her I needed that Sedona back, the fighter who argued with every medical decision.

I’d meant it then. I still meant it now.

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