Going Home
HANNAH’S POV:
TWO WEEKS LATER:
The first breath of fresh air outside the hospital felt like an absolute miracle.
It was real air and not recycled hospital air pumped through vents. Réal, genuine outside air. Warm and humid with that particular quality that told me summer was approaching. Sun-kissed and alive.
I closed my eyes for a long moment, tilting my face up toward the sky, letting the gentle breeze wash over my skin. It felt amazing. Like being reborn.
Elijah pressed a hand lightly against my lower back for balance, his touch warm and steady and reassuring.
“You good?” he asked softly, his voice close to my ear.
I opened my eyes and smiled at him. A real, genuine smile that felt like it came from deep in my soul. “I’m perfect.
His wounds had healed enough over the past two weeks that he no longer needed the wheelchair, which I knew he was grateful for. He still moved carefully, still winced slightly on certain steps when his ribs protested. But he was walking on his own. He was home, having been discharged a week earlier than me.
And right now, he was absolutely glowing just from watching me breathe outside air, free from hospital walls.
He raised one eyebrow skeptically. “You’re lying. You’re exhausted. I can see it in your face.”
“Maybe,” I admitted with a small laugh, leaning slightly into his solid warmth. “But I’m still perfect.”
We both laughed quietly together, and for once, the laughter didn’t hurt my healing ribs.
The black SUV pulled up smoothly to the hospital curb, and Martin was in the driver’s seat. He hopped out immediately, moving around to open the back passenger door for me with a flourish.
“Careful now,” he said, and he sounded exactly like a worried father fussing over his daughter. “Your leg burns still need at least another week of treatment and rest.”
I rolled my eyes playfully at his overprotectiveness. “Yes, Doctor Martin.”
He sighed dramatically. “I’m being serious, Hannah. Elijah already gave me about twenty gray hairs during those two weeks you were both in the hospital. I genuinely can’t survive having two of you being reckless with your health.”
Elijah snorted and pointed at Martin accusingly. “You already looked old before any of this happened, Martin.”
I gasped exaggeratedly, slapping Elijah’s arm lightly. “Elijah! That’s so mean!”


VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABEL
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: The Unwanted Wife's Return (Ex-Husband Wants Me Back)