Please Come Back, My Love novel Chapter 283

#hapter 283

Elena POV

They loaded Elena into the ambulance, and I climbed in after her, ignoring the protests about protocol and procedure.

I wasn’t letting her out of my sight.

Not again.

The doors slammed shut, and the ambulance lurched into motion, sirens wailing.

I reached for Elena’s hand, threading my fingers through hers, and willed her to squeeze back.

She didn’t.

“Come on, baby,” I whispered. ‘Come back to me.”

One of the paramedics-a burly guy with a Brooklyn accent-was checking her pupils with a penlight.

“Pupils are reactive,” he said, making notes on a tablet. “That’s good. Means the brain is still functioning.”

“What about her memories?” The question burst out of me before I could stop it. “She has amnesia-four years’ worth. If this injury is severe enough, could

it-

“Could go either way,” he said bluntly. “Sometimes a second head trauma can actually restore lost memories. Sometimes it makes things worse. Sometimes it

does nothing at all.”

“So you’re saying there’s a chance she could remember?”

“I’m saying anything’s possible.” He adjusted the IV drip they’d started in Elena’s arm. “But right now, let’s focus on making sure she survives, yeah?”

The ambulance hit a pothole, and Elena’s head lolled to the side.

I caught it gently, cradling her face in my hands.

‘I love you,’ I whispered, even though she couldn’t hear me. I love you, and I’m so fucking sorry for everything.”

The paramedic pretended not to hear.

We pulled up to New York Presbyterian’s emergency entrance twelve minutes later.

The doors flew open, and chaos erupted.

Doctors and nurses swarmed the stretcher, wheeling Elena away before I could even process what was happening.

Sir, we need you to-

?

Chapter 283

When are they taking her?

‘CT scafi. We need to assess the extent of the head injury.”

I’m coming with-

“Sir, you can’t-

“The fuck I can’t! I started to follow, but two orderlies blocked my path.

path.

“Mr. Sterling.

I turned to see a doctor-woman in her fifties, steel-gray hair, no-nonsense expression-standing behind me.

“I’m Dr. Morris,’ she said. “I’ll be overseeing your wife’s care. But right now, you need to let my team do their job.”

“I need to be with her-”

“What you need to do,” she interrupted firmly, “is get yourself checked out. You’re bleeding, you’re in shock, and you’re no good to your wife or your

daughter if you collapse.”

“My daughter-” I looked around wildly. “Where’s Lila?”

“The second ambulance just pulled up. She’s fine-scared, but fine.”

As if on cue, the emergency room doors burst open again, and there she was.

Lila, still wrapped in a shock blanket, being carried by the same paramedic who’d taken her from me at the scene.

She saw me and immediately started squirming.

‘Mr. Sad Uncle!”

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