Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 174

Chapter 174

Dr. Porter walked into my room wearing a bright smile that instantly made me nervous. It was the kind of big, optimistic grin doctors wear when they’re about to give good news-but in that moment, it didn’t feel good at all. There was an energy of relief and positivity radiating from him that clashed completely with the tightness in my stomach.

“Zoey, I have excellent news,” he said enthusiastically, stepping closer to my bed with my chart in hand and a professional look of satisfaction. “You’re officially ready to be discharged. Your neurological exams are all perfectly normal, your recovery has exceeded every expectation, and physically you’re doing great. You can go home in the next few days.”

My stomach dropped like I’d swallowed a stone.

“I don’t want to,” I said immediately, my voice coming out sharper and more desperate than I intended.

Dr. Porter stopped reading the chart and looked up, clearly surprised by my reaction.

“What do you mean, you don’t want to?” he asked, frowning slightly.

“I don’t want to go home,” I repeated firmly, feeling tears threaten to spill. “I don’t want to be away from Matt. How am I supposed to take care of him if I’m not here? How will I know if he’s okay?”

Christian, who had been sitting in the armchair beside my bed, moved closer and gently took my hand.

“Baby…”

“No, Christian,” I cut him off, turning back to Dr. Porter with a pleading expression. “I can’t just leave my son here alone. He needs me. What if there’s a medical emergency? What if he gets worse during the night? What if he néeds me and I’m not here?”

Dr. Porter chuckled softly, but not in a mocking way. It was the kind, patient laugh of someone who had seen this same reaction from countless mothers over the years.

“Zoey, I completely understand your concern,” he said, his voice full of gentle experience. “It’s perfectly normal for a mother not to want to be separated from her baby, especially in such a delicate situation. But you need to understand that Matt is in excellent hands in the neonatal ICU. The team there is highly specialized, and you can visit him every single day to follow his progress closely.”

“Every day?” I asked hopefully, clinging to that promise like a lifeline.

“Every single day, no exceptions. As many times as you want, during visiting hours,” Dr. Porter confirmed patiently, his tone calm and reassuring. “In fact, it’s much better for your own physical and emotional recovery if you rest in a comfortable, familiar environment. The hospital, no matter how good it is, isn’t the best place for someone to fully heal.”

“But what if something happens at night? A medical emergency or anything?” I insisted, my anxiety spilling over again.

“We have a highly trained medical team here 24 hours a day, seven days a week,” Dr. Porter assured me firmly.” And if there’s any change in Matt’s condition, you’ll be the first to know. I can even give you my personal cell number if that helps you feel more at ease.”

I turned to Christian, searching for comfort in his familiar blue eyes. He nodded reassuringly, his gaze steady and full of quiet strength.

“I’ll be here every single day,” I said, my voice laced with fierce determination.

“And I’ll be with you at every visit,” Christian added, squeezing my hand. “We’re not leaving Matt alone.”

I exhaled deeply, knowing they were right, even though the thought of leaving the hospital and him felt almost unbearable.

“Okay,” I said reluctantly, the word heavy on my tongue.

“Excellent,” Dr. Porter said warmly. “I’ll start the paperwork for your discharge tomorrow.”

“And someone else,” I continued, straining to pull the hazy image into focus. “There was definitely someone with her. A man, I think. They were… too close. Way too close. Doing something they definitely shouldn’t have been doing.”

Christian went completely still for a long, loaded moment. When I opened my eyes, he was smiling. But it wasn’t his usual, easy smile. It was that smile that I knew too well. The calculating one. The one he wore when he was already three steps ahead of everyone else.

“What exactly are you planning?” I asked directly. I knew that look far too well to let it slide.

“Planning? Me?” Christian feigned innocence, but the unmistakable smirk stayed on his face.

“Christian Kensington, I know that smile,” I said firmly. “You’re clearly plotting something. What is it?”

He chuckled softly and kissed my forehead, a gesture that always managed to calm me—if only a little.

“A party,” he said simply, as if that explained everything.

“A party?” I repeated, confused. “What kind of party?”

“A special welcome dinner for you,” Christian said smoothly, his blue eyes gleaming with something I couldn’t quite read. “The whole family, gathered to properly welcome you home. The Bennetts…”

He paused, the corners of his mouth curving into a smile that was equal parts charming and dangerous.

“And the Kensingtons.”