Billion Dollar Mistake: An opposites attract billionaire romance: (The Lincolns Book 1)

Chapter 34

I wheel closer to her bed, my gaze fixed on Nova.

Her frail body looks so helpless right now. The door gently closes behind me, leaving only Nova and me in the room.

“Baby,” I murmur, lifting her hand and cradling it in mine, carefully avoiding the IV attached on the back of her hand. I recall the moments when, holding her hand, she would interlace her fingers with mine. Now, she remains unresponsive.

Not having her touch is agonizing and the weight of regret settles heavily on me.

“I’m so sorry.”

I look around at all the machines beeping and making all different noises. Medicine dripping into her vein. That”s what’s keeping her in an induced coma.

How long will she stay like this?

“I hope you can hear me speak.” I sigh.

My thumb follows the bumps in her knuckles. I feel so helpless. What can I do to fix this?

“I wish you’d wake up and talk to me. I need to tell you something I should’ve said ages ago.”

Why do we wait until something happens before we realize we should have said something, but we didn’t?

“Your parents have been so kind. I thought I’d walk in here and your dad or mom would throw me out for endangering their child. You have the best parents. You missed me crying like a baby in your mom’s arms. Would you believe me if I told you I don’t cry…like ever. Yet walking in and seeing the damage I’ve caused you sent me into a puddle. I’m so sorry I was distracted with work and not paying attention. I was selfish and careless. Now I can’t bring myself to look at my phone and I definitely cannot work. I don’t know when I’ll be ready to open that door, but at the moment it doesn’t feel right.”

I realize I’m talking about nothing and yet everything that is inside me. No one prepared me for what it’s like to speak to someone you love on a ventilator. It’s horrific and my stomach is twisting in pain.

There’s a book on the table. I’m guessing it’s her mom’s, but I pick it up anyway, opening it to chapter one, and read to her. I hope she can hear the words as she sleeps.

I know she loves reading and I love her. Right now, I need to bring her joy and stop the guilt that”s wreaking havoc in my gut as I watch the crash on repeat in my mind. Reading her the book will make me focus on something else. A new world. A new scene.

I begin to feel my voice tire so after a few chapters, I close the book and put it where I found it.

I stay quiet after that and continue to stroke her hands with my thumb. The door opens, and I don’t want to let her go.

I’m not ready to be alone in my hospital room. How will I know when she wakes up?

“Jeremy, it”s nice to see you. They told me to come in here and see how you are.” I tilt my head, seeing Chelsea behind me.

“I don’t want to leave.”

“I know but you will eventually have to. You can come back tomorrow.”

Tomorrow sounds so far away. I just want to be around her the whole time. Suddenly, an idea sparks inside me.

“I can come back,” I murmur.

I place my lips to the top of her hand.

“I’ll see you later, baby.”

I push my chair back and Chelsea helps me out the door. Nova’s parents see me and rush over.

“I’m heading back to my room now. You spend more time with her and please let me know if there’s any changes. I know I don’t deserve it, but I’d appreciate being kept in the loop.”

“We accept your apology, Jeremy. You need to forgive yourself too.”

Not yet. Not until Nova wakes and I beg for her forgiveness.

My brother stands and asks me if I’m ready to go.

I nod. Remaining silent, letting him wheel me away. The pain in my chest is worse than any of the injuries I sustained in the accident.

Later that night, I couldn”t sleep. I need to be with Nova. I ask the nurse on shift if I can visit her. I’m charming her on purpose to get what I want.

She says yes but not for too long.

This time, I walk. When I reach her room, I see she’s alone. No one else is here but me. I sit in a chair by her bed and hold her hand. My body is finally tired as if it feels like it could rest now that she’s here. And if she wakes, I’ll be right here. So I lay my head on her bed beside our joined hands. I’m not leaving her tonight. They’ll have to force me to leave.

“Mr. Lincoln,” a voice calls from afar.

I grumble. But I don’t move.

“Mr. Lincoln.” A touch on my shoulder startles me.

I jerk in my chair, finding a nurse beside me.

“You need to go back to your room now.”

I wipe my face and look at the clock. Eight o’clock at night. An hour past visiting hours.

“I don’t want to leave her.”

The nurse offers me a compassionate smile. “I know. But you have to leave.”

In other circumstances, I know I could get my way. But I’m not in charge here. She is and she knows it.

“How about I’ll call your nurse if there’s any changes?”

I nod. “Thanks.” I stand and stare at Nova one last time before I turn and leave her room. Every time I leave her, my heart breaks further. Is it fear? That she might not wake? I don’t know, but I take my shattered heart and head back to my room. Rather than going straight to bed, I sit by the window and look out at the stars. She reminds me of them. So bright, so beautiful and unique.

A light knock and the door opening have me opening my eyes. I’m reminded instantly that I’m in my own room at the hospital. I don’t remember falling asleep.

“Are you ready to go home today?” Mom asks walking in.

“Yeah, I’d like my bed back.”

“But?”

“No buts.”

“Son, your face is unconvincing,” she argues.

“I just don’t want to miss her waking up.”

“Why don’t you stay with her until you need to leave. We can take your stuff to your house.”

I sit up straighter. “That would be great.”

The door opens again and Doctor Andrews walks in.

“Looks like you’re ready to go home.”

“I’m ready to go visit my girlfriend.”

“Well, let me check you over, and if there”s nothing else, you can go home and rest.”

The doctor checks me over and discharges me. I make my way back to Nova’s room. Her friends and parents are here.

I don’t go in the room until everyone else has had a turn. I’m not in a rush. I plan to be here the whole day and night. I’ll be right here until they kick me out, which happens at seven o’clock that night.

I turn up the following day promptly at eight a.m., as soon as visiting hours commence, bringing a large bouquet of red roses. I want her to wake up and see her room filled with them. Today I brought my laptop. I plan to tackle work. I’ll be working through it. But I also had an idea during my lack of sleep last night. It won’t happen overnight, but I’m appointing a new CEO to take over. It’s the best decision. Even if Nova chooses to end our relationship, I want to take a big step back from work. I need to do something else. Like travel. And if later on I decide to work, I can start up a new business. Study something new at college or even volunteer my time.

Today as I wait by Nova’s side, clutching her hand, waiting for a miracle, a doctor enters the room.

Her parents welcome him, and I learn that he’s been the doctor treating her. My stomach tightens with anticipation. What is he going to say?

“I want to start to slowly reduce the medication and begin to wake her up. Nova’s injuries aren’t going anywhere, but the swelling and bleeding are no longer a concern.”

“How long will she take to wake up?” I ask.

“12-72 hours.”

“When will you begin to reduce the medication?”

“Today.”

I’m relieved but also worried. What if she doesn’t wake up?

What happens next?

When she does wake up, what happens if she wants to throw me out of her room and break up with me?

No. I won’t let her. I’ll explain what I’m doing and how much I care about her.

The doctor leaves and the medication is reduced. Now we play the waiting game. No one wants to leave her room today. We are all desperate for her to wake up.

Twelve hours pass and nothing.

Not one movement.

And then the nurses kick us out.

Meaning I’ll have to wait another 12 hours at least before I can come back in. I’d hate for her to wake up alone. I don’t want her scared.

I reluctantly leave her room.

Returning the next morning, I take the same seat I did yesterday. She looks the same, except they removed the breathing tube from her mouth. There’s oxygen in her nose. I don’t know why I expect her to look different, but I do. I want the flush of color back in her cheeks.

I didn’t bring my laptop today, with hopes she’ll wake up. Work isn’t important. She is. Her eyes opening and seeing me there waiting for her.

I sit silently and when her parents come in, my nerves scoot up higher.

Hours pass but I can’t get up and get food or do anything else. I just sit and wait.

A grunt and a groan come from the bed and I jump out of my chair. Her parents come closer to her bed too. We all watch as she moves, touching the nasal cannula on her face. Her eyes are still closed but her face is screwed up. I want to see her eyes. Those hazel eyes with gold flecks. God, I’ve fucking missed them.

Her mom is crying and soothing the hair on Nova’s face. I feel like I’m holding my breath waiting for her to take hers.

My hand holds hers watching and waiting for her eyes to open when her fingers twitch. I drop my gaze to her hand when she squeezes mine. My eyes prick with fresh tears. God. I’ve wanted this for so long it doesn’t feel real yet. I’m watching intently so I know I’m not imagining it.

“Mom?” She gasps.

“I’m here, love,” she replies, touching her face and bringing her face closer to Nova’s, blocking my view of her face.

“Rem-y,” she rasps.

“He’s here too.” Lydia sobs.

A lump of emotion forms in my throat, so I clear my throat before speaking. “Nova. I’m here.”

Her lashes flutter, and as her eyes open, it feels as if my chest is tearing apart. Those hazel eyes find mine, and a tear escapes from my eye.

My heart feels so much for her. I wish I was alone with her right now to tell her… Tell her, I love her.