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.”

ľ

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

13

Taking A Carnote-

doesn’t help her, and you all need to be strong when she wakes up. She’s going to need you.”

t 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.

But I also knew that asking someone to fight when they’re exhausted and sick and terrified isn’t the same as that person choosing to fight for themselves. That was just manipulation wrapped in pretty coveringz and not healthy at all.

And if Sedona looked at the odds Frank had presented and decided that spending her remaining weeks in peace was preferable to spending them violently ill with only a twenty percent chance of survival, I would have to respect that.

Even if it destroyed me.

The ICU nurse came out around six PM to tell me Sedona was awake and asking for me.

I followed her through the secure doors into the sterile quiet that came with the ward, past rooms with other families’ lives playing out behind glass walls.

Sedona’s room was at the end of the corridor. She looked small in the hospital bed, hooked up to more machines than seemed necessary for one person.

But her eyes were open and tracking, and when I came in she managed a weak smile.

“Hey, Cam.

“Hey.” I pulled a chair up beside her bed and took her hand carefully, mindful of the IV lines. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a truck.” Her voice was hoarse, probably from the breathing tube they’d used during the emergency procedure. “How’s Molly? I didn’t hurt her when I fell, did I?”

“Molly’s fine. Rachel’s got her. She was more scared than hurt.”

Sedona closed her eyes briefly. “I was having such a nice day. We were looking at birds. She was laughing. And then…” She trailed off.

“I know.”

“Frank talked to you already, didn’t he. About the scans.”

2/3

Taking A Gambre

It wasn’t a question. I nodded anyway. “He did.”

“Tell me the truth, Cameron. Don’t try to protect me or soften it or make it sound better than it is. How bad?”

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