Chapter 26
Adrian
The moment I step into the hospital, I feel a shift in the air. Whispers trail in my wake, eyes darting toward me before quickly looking away. A muscle in my jaw tightens.
Nina’s the first to pounce, her brow furrowed with concern as she leans in. “Is it true?” she asks, her voice laced with curiosity.
I already know what she’s talking about. The article exposing me and Amelia.
I let out a slow breath, giving her a small, tight-lipped smile. “It’s not like I can deny it. Not when there’s a photo plastered all over the internet.”
She nods, sympathy softening her features. “Sorry, Dr. Pierce. People just love gossip.”
I force a shrug, mumbling, “Yeah, well, the beauty of mid-town living.”
I leave before she can ask anything else, diving into my first few patient consults to escape the noise.
But the unease stays with me. I pull out my phone to check in with Amelia.
She would’ve seen the article, and the thought of her dealing with this alone makes me sick with worry.
She’s been working so fucking hard for that promotion. Why did this have to blow up now?
I type out a quick text.
Me: Hey, saw the newspaper. Are you okay? Let me know if you want to talk.
I hit send and lean back in my chair, running a hand over my face. This doesn’t affect my career. My job is secure. But any chance at redemption? Shattered.
But for Amelia, it’s a conflict of interest. I can’t be the reason she loses everything she’s worked so hard for.
My phone buzzes.
Keith: Adrian, what the hell? Call me.
I ignore it, too focused on the fact that Amelia still hasn’t replied. She’s usually quick to respond. A pit forms in my stomach. The rest of the day drags. More stares, more whispers.
I can’t just go home. Not yet. I need to see Amelia and make sure she’s okay. We had agreed to keep this quiet until after her promotion, but now that it’s out, I don’t know if she blames me for ruining everything.
What if this leak means we’re done?
I can’t stop worrying, so I drive to her place.
The door swings open before I even knock, and my heart clenches the second I see her. Amelia’s eyes are red-rimmed, her face pale and drawn. She’s been crying. A lot.
Her hair is a mess, loose strands falling around her face, and she’s wearing an oversized gray sweater that hangs off one shoulder.
She starts to fold her arms over her chest, as if trying to hold herself together, but I can’t stand the distance between us.
“Amelia,” I start, stepping forward and gently pulling her into my arms. She buries her face into my chest, hugging me tightly back.
“I’m really sorry,” she whispers. “I don’t know who or how they found us.”
She pulls back just enough to look at me, staying in my arms. “Violet and the others were shocked. Everyone was. The office was talking. I couldn’t even go into town because I knew people would be waiting to grill me.”
“And here we thought Russell was the biggest problem that day.” I try to lighten the mood.
She laughs, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
“I’m really sorry, Amelia,” I say, cupping her face gently. “I hope this doesn’t ruin things for you. You deserve that promotion more than anyone. What’s between us has nothing to do with your career. You earned this on your own.”
Hazel walks by and winks at me. “Knew it.”
I swear I see Amelia’s lips twitch upward for the briefest moment. It’s such a small thing, but it eases the knot in my chest. We’ll be okay.
I press a soft kiss to her head. Her hands still rest on my chest.
But just as I’m about to speak, there’s a loud crash, followed by a raw, gut-wrenching sound that slices through the air, straight through my spine.
“Mom!” Amelia’s voice is pure panic as she bolts. My stomach drops, a cold dread washing over me.
I hurry after her, stepping through the doorway into the room where my throat tightens. Her mother is on the floor, unmoving.
The world tilts. My heart slams against my ribs as I rush forward, but my feet falter for just a moment. One second. I’m frozen, because suddenly, I’m not here anymore.
I’m there. Back there.
Staring at my father’s lifeless body.
No. Not now. Not again.
Amelia’s sobs snap me out of it. “Call an ambulance!” I shout.
I drop to my knees beside her mom, checking she’s breathing. It’s there, but labored.
Her left arm lies slack against the floor, and her face droops on one side. “This isn’t just her AFib. I think she’s having a stroke.”
Hazel appears in the doorway holding Felix, the other kids behind her, their faces pale with worry. “Stay back,” she tells them gently, keeping them away from the scene. “Give them space.”
“Can you squeeze my hand?” I ask her mother. Her right hand grips mine weakly, but her left hand doesn’t move at all. Her speech is slurred when she tries to speak. The minutes stretch, and every second counts with a stroke. I keep checking her pupils and trying to keep her alert.
Finally, a siren sounds, and then heavy footsteps enter as paramedics rush in.
I force myself to step back as they take over, my breath coming fast and shallow.
Her mother remains conscious but confused, her left side clearly affected.
They check her vital signs, do an ECG, and begin a stroke assessment, checking her face, arms, and speech while noting her irregular AFib rhythm.
The kids still huddle in the hallway crying, while Hazel tries to keep them calm.
Amelia clutches my arm, fingers trembling. I squeeze her hand.
She looks up at me, eyes wide, voice barely a whisper. “Is she going to be okay?”
I swallow hard. “I think so. She’s in good hands now.”
Amelia nods, but she doesn’t let go of me. And I don’t let go of her.
Not this time.
“You go with your mom. I’ll stay here and take care of everyone.” My voice is steady, even though my insides are anything but.
Amelia hesitates, her grip tightening around her phone. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Go. Keep me updated.”
She nods, then grabs her purse and hurries after the paramedics, following her mother as they wheel her out on a stretcher. The door clicks shut behind her, and the silence that follows is deafening.
Beside me, Hazel lets out a choked sob. Her small shoulders tremble, her face streaked with tears.
I open my arms, and she falls into me, burying her face in my chest. I hold her tight, rubbing slow circles on her back.
“It’s going to be alright,” I whisper, even though I don’t know if it’s true. Fuck, I hope it is.
Her breathing evens out after a moment, though I can still feel the occasional shudder. I pull back slightly and rest my hand on top of Hazel’s shoulder. “How about we play a board game with everyone? It’ll keep our minds busy.”
Hazel sniffles and wipes her eyes, and when she looks up at me, I see myself in her gaze. The same worry, the same helplessness.
My phone vibrates in my pocket.
Amelia: They’re taking her to another town. Stroke center.
That’s good. It means specialized care and interventions. But it also means the damage could be significant. I quickly type back.
Me: Kids are fine. Felix is calm, and the rest are about to play Uno.
I look around the living room, where Hazel has gathered everyone.
“Is Mom going to be okay? Sofia asks.
Hazel shuffles toward her. “The doctors are taking really good care of her. She’s in the best place right now.” She glances at me, and I nod, needing to keep it simple until we know more.
A moment later, she replies.
Amelia: Thank you.
I let out a deep breath, but the tension in my chest doesn’t ease. My phone vibrates in my hand: Keith.
Fuck! I completely forgot to update him.
“Hey, Keith,” I answer.
“Are you still at work?” His voice is casual, but there’s an edge of curiosity.
“No, I came to check on Amelia.”
“Yeah, I figured.”
I rub a hand over my face, lowering my voice as I step away from the living room. Hazel’s at the coffee table, dealing out UNO cards for the kids. “Her mom collapsed. Paramedics took her to a stroke center.”
Silence. Then a sharp inhale. “Damn it.” He pauses. “What can I do to help?”
I glance at Hazel, her expression tired but focused on the game.
“Can you bring some dinner? I’m watching the kids, and I have no idea if they’ve eaten.”
“Done. I’ll be there soon.”
I hang up and force a breath before sitting down on the floor with Hazel and the others. Within minutes, I’m getting my ass handed to me by a bunch of kids.
By the time Keith arrives, takeout bags in hand, the place turns into utter chaos. Kids arguing over food, trading bites, and laughing for the first time all night. It’s a welcome distraction.
When things settle, and the kids start getting ready for bed, my phone buzzes again. Amelia.
I step into the hallway and answer immediately. “Hey.”
“Hi.” She sounds completely drained.
“What’s happening?” My heart pounds as I brace myself for the worst.
“She had a stroke. But we got her here in time. They treated her fast, and the doctors think she’s going to be okay.”
The tightness in my chest finally loosens a little. Thank God. Her story isn’t going to end like mine.
“That’s great news.”
“Yeah.” She sighs. “I’ll stay until they kick me out.”
“Everything here is taken care of. Have you eaten?”
“No. I’m not hungry.” She sounds exhausted.
I get it. When you’re running on stress and adrenaline, food is the last thing on your mind. But she needs to take care of herself.
“I know you’re not, but you need to eat something. Even just a sandwich.”
“Maybe later,” she says softly. “Adrian… thank you. For everything today. For being there for my family when—” Her voice cracks slightly.
“You don’t need to thank me,” I tell her. “I’m just glad your mom’s okay.”
“I should go. The doctor is due back soon.”
“Call me if you need anything. Anything at all.”
“I will.”