Chapter 21
A dull, throbbing ache spread across my entire body, pulling me from the depths of unconsciousness.
The harsh, sterile brightness of the lights overhead burned through my eyelids, forcing them open with a slow, painful flutter.
My head pounded viciously, each throb amplifying the knot that had formed at the side of my skull.
I felt disoriented, like I was floating between dreams and reality, unable to piece together how I’d ended up here.
I blinked rapidly, trying to focus, but the room was a blur of white coats and indistinct faces.
Nurses and doctors moved around me, their voices blending into a low, indistinguishable hum.
Someone poked at my arm, another pressed something cold to my forehead, but all I could focus on was the pain and the overwhelming sense of confusion that gnawed at my insides.
Where was I? What had happened?
“Josephine.”
The voice was soft, familiar, but laced with an undercurrent of something I couldn’t quite place.
My gaze slowly shifted to the source, and there he was—Colson.
He stood by my bedside, towering over the sea of medical staff, his eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine.
"Colson?" My voice was barely a whisper, raspy and weak.
“You’re safe,” he said, his tone calm, almost reassuring, but there was something cold beneath the surface. He reached out, his hand gentle as he brushed a strand of hair from my face. “You took a nasty fall.”
The memory hit me like a tidal wave—Vaughn, the stairwell, the sudden push. Panic surged through me, making my heart race. “What happened?” I managed to croak out, my throat dry and tight.
“You hit your head,” Colson replied, his hand now resting on mine. His grip was firm, grounding me in the chaos that surrounded us. “You’ve been in and out of consciousness for a few hours. The doctors are running tests to make sure there’s no serious damage.”
I tried to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through my skull, forcing me to collapse back onto the bed with a groan. The nurses around me exchanged quick, concerned glances, one of them stepping forward to adjust something on the monitor beside me.
“You need to stay still,” Colson instructed, his voice firm, almost commanding. “The doctors said rest is crucial right now.”
I nodded slightly, wincing as the movement caused another wave of pain to ripple through my head. “Vaughn…?” I whispered, the name slipping out before I could stop it.
A flash of something—anger, perhaps—flickered in Colson’s eyes, but it was gone just as quickly as it appeared. “Vaughn wasn’t there when they found you,” he said, his tone measured. “But don’t worry about that now. Focus on getting better.”
His words should have been comforting, but they weren’t. Something about his demeanor, the way he was holding back, made my skin crawl. I searched his face for answers, but his expression was unreadable, a mask of concern that I wasn’t sure I could trust.
“Rest, Josephine,” he repeated, his voice softening. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
I wanted to protest, to demand more answers, but exhaustion was already dragging me back under.
The last thing I saw before my eyes closed was Colson’s face, hovering above me like a shadow, his presence both comforting and terrifying at the same time.
The darkness took me again, and this time, I didn’t fight it.
The rhythmic beeping of a monitor was the first thing I noticed as I drifted back to consciousness.
The sterile scent of antiseptic hung in the air, and the muffled hum of hospital activity seeped through the walls.
My body felt heavy, the dull ache in my head now more of a persistent throb.
I blinked against the dim light filtering through the room, trying to get my bearings.
I wasn’t in the same room as before. The clinical white walls and harsh fluorescent lights had been replaced with something warmer, more intimate. The bed I was in was larger, more comfortable, with soft, cream-colored blankets pulled up to my chest. A private room.
It was late—well into the evening, if the darkness outside the window was any indication.
A soft, ambient light glowed from a small lamp on the bedside table, casting a gentle halo over the room.
I turned my head slightly, wincing at the sharp stab of pain that followed, and saw Colson sitting in a chair beside the bed, his laptop balanced on his knees.
He was deep in concentration, his fingers moving swiftly across the keyboard, the blue light from the screen illuminating his sharp features.
“Colson?” My voice was weak, barely more than a rasp, but it was enough to draw his attention.
He looked up immediately, closing the laptop with a quiet snap and setting it aside. His expression softened as he met my gaze, though I could still see the tension lurking in the corners of his eyes. “You’re awake,” he said, leaning forward in his chair. “How are you feeling?”
I swallowed, my throat dry and scratchy. “Better, I think.” I hesitated, glancing around the room. “Where’s my family?”
“They waited as long as they could,” Colson replied, his voice calm, almost detached. “But it was getting late, and they needed to get home. They’ll be here first thing tomorrow.”
I nodded, though a strange unease settled in my chest. “You didn’t have to stay,” I murmured, my eyes searching his face for some sign of what he was really thinking.
“I wanted to.” His response was immediate, firm. He reached out, taking my hand in his. His grip was gentle, but there was an intensity in his gaze that made my heart skip. “You’re my fiancée, Josephine. It’s my responsibility to make sure you’re okay.”
Responsibility. The word hung between us like a weight, pressing down on the small space that separated us. I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to his presence here, something unspoken that simmered just beneath the surface.
“I’m sorry if I worried you,” I said softly, trying to ease the tension I felt radiating from him.
Colson shook his head, his thumb brushing lightly over the back of my hand. “You don’t need to apologize. What happened wasn’t your fault.” His voice was steady, but there was a sharpness to it, an edge that made me wonder what exactly he was holding back.
“What did the doctors say?” I asked, hoping to shift the conversation, even though I already knew the basics.
“They’re keeping you overnight as a precaution,” Colson explained, his tone returning to that controlled calm that I was beginning to associate with him. “They’ve done all the tests, and everything looks good, but they want to monitor you a bit longer.”
I nodded again, the ache in my head making it difficult to focus on anything other than the pain. “Thank you… for staying,” I said, the words feeling inadequate but necessary.
Colson’s lips curved into a faint smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” He squeezed my hand gently before releasing it, leaning back in his chair. “You should rest. I’ll be here if you need anything.”
The room fell into a comfortable silence, but my mind was anything but quiet.
I couldn’t help but replay the events of the day over and over again, trying to make sense of what had happened and why.
Vaughn’s anger, Simone’s outburst, the fall —none of it sat right with me probably because it wasn’t a fall… I was pushed.
I would wait to reveal that little tidbit to Colson for a few days and then address it. Someone had it out for me. Our wedding was less than two weeks away and I had so much to do. I wasn’t sure if I would be able to get anything done at all.
The next day, as I lay in the hospital bed, the door swung open, and a wave of relief washed over me as my parents and Logan stepped inside. My mother’s eyes were brimming with tears, while my father offered a small, comforting smile. Logan, on the other hand, looked as worried as I felt.
“Oh, sweetheart,” my mother said, rushing to my side and taking my hand. “We were so scared.”
“I’m okay, Mom,” I assured her, squeezing her hand. “Just a bump on the head.”
My father nodded, though his eyes scanned me as if assessing every inch for further injuries. “You gave us quite a scare, Joey.”
Logan stood back for a moment, his arms crossed, but when our eyes met, he stepped closer. “How are you feeling?”
“Better, now that you’re here.” I tried to smile but winced as the knot on my head throbbed. “It’s good to see you all.”
“We can’t stay long,” my father said apologetically. “We both have work, but Logan’s going to stay with you.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I knew how busy they were, and the fact that they came at all meant the world to me.
After a few more minutes of gentle reassurances and promises to check in later, my parents said their goodbyes. As they left, Logan took the chair beside my bed, his expression softening now that we were alone.
“I took half the day off,” he said, trying to sound casual. “Figured I could hang around and make sure you’re all right.”
“I’m glad,” I admitted, feeling the weight of the situation settle in. “Logan, something happened. I was pushed.”
Logan’s expression darkened, and he leaned in closer. “Pushed? By who?”
“I don’t know,” I whispered, my voice trembling slightly. “But I didn’t just fall. Someone was there.”
Logan’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, he looked like he wanted to storm out and find whoever did this. Instead, he took a deep breath and nodded. “How did they find me?” I asked, needing to know.
“When you didn’t show up for lunch, I went up to your office on the forty-fifth floor,” Logan explained, his voice calm but with an edge of tension.
“Colson saw me and knew about our plans. When I told him you never arrived, he sent security looking for you. They found you on the landing of the forty-fourth floor and called an ambulance.”
I closed my eyes, trying to piece it all together. The memory of falling was hazy, but I could still feel the force that pushed me.
Logan reached out and took my hand, his grip firm. “We’ll figure this out, I promise.”
“Thank you,” I murmured, grateful for his support. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
He smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You don’t have to worry about that. I’m not going anywhere.”
As I lay back, the room felt a little less cold with Logan there, his presence a reminder that I wasn’t alone in this. But the fear lingered, a shadow over the comfort of having my family close.
I eased myself onto the edge of my bed, wincing as I gingerly touched the fading bruise on my temple. The familiar surroundings of my bedroom offered little comfort as my mind raced with unanswered questions.
A soft knock at the door drew my attention. "Come in," I called out, my voice still slightly hoarse.
Colson entered, carrying a tray with a steaming mug of tea. "Thought you might need a pick-me-up," he said, setting the tray on my nightstand.
I offered a weak smile. "Thanks."
He sat down in the chair beside my bed, his brow furrowed with concern. "How are you feeling today?"
"Better," I replied, reaching for the mug. "The headache's mostly gone, but..."
"But what?" Colson probed gently.
I took a sip of tea, buying time as I gathered my thoughts. "Do you know who pushed me down those stairs."
Colson sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Josephine, we've been over this. The security footage?—"
"I know what you said about the footage," I interrupted, a hint of frustration in my voice. "But Colson, I was there. I felt hands on my back."
He ran a hand through his hair, visibly conflicted. "Look, I understand you're shaken up, but sometimes our minds play tricks on us in traumatic situations."
I set the mug down with more force than necessary, tea sloshing over the rim. "Are you saying I'm imagining things?"
"No, of course not," Colson backpedaled, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "I'm just saying that maybe you're misremembering. It was a split-second event, after all."
I turned away from him, staring out the window. "It's your building, Colson. You have access to all the camera feeds. Are you absolutely certain there was no one else in that stairwell?"
A heavy silence filled the room. When Colson finally spoke, his voice was low and measured. "Joey, I've told you everything I know. There was no one else there. You fell."
My shoulders tensed. I could feel Colson's eyes on me, but I couldn't bring myself to meet his gaze. "I think I need to rest now," I said quietly.
"Of course," Colson replied, standing up. He hesitated at the door. "Josephine…"
"Please, Colson," I cut him off, my voice strained. "Just go."
As the door clicked shut behind him, I let out a shaky breath.
Colson was lying. Nothing went on in his home, his business or the world without him knowing.
I didn’t believe he didn’t know who pushed me.
Whoever it was, he was protecting them. And Simone was at the top of the list with Vaughn a close second.
The two of them had axes to grind when it came to me. Simone would never accept me as part of the Ashworth family and Vaughn was obsessed with me. He would do anything to prevent me from marrying his father. From here, I would need to be very careful…my life depending on it.