Chapter 18
The morning after my disastrous, heart-stopping attempt at boldness in Alexander's closet, I was entirely prepared to avoid my husband for the rest of my natural life as his wife.
I woke up early, planning to sneak out to the hospital for my nursing internship before he even finished his morning run.
But my phone rang at 0615 hours.
It wasn't my alarm. It was a direct line from the Military VIP Cardiology Ward.
"Mrs. Reeves," the calm, professional voice of the lead surgeon echoed in my ear. "Your father experienced a sudden drop in blood pressure this morning. We've located a minor arterial blockage. We need to perform an emergency stent placement surgery immediately."
The floor completely dropped out from beneath me.
"Surgery?" I choked out, my medical knowledge instantly turning against me. I knew exactly what an arterial blockage meant. I knew the risks of anesthesia on a weakened heart. "But he was stabilizing-"
"It is a preventative measure, but time is critical," the doctor explained. "We are prepping him for the OR now."
I didn't even remember getting dressed. I didn't remember the frantic ride in the estate's secure SUV.
By the time I burst through the double doors of the VIP waiting room, my vision was entirely blurred with tears.
"Grace!"
Mia was already there. I had called her from the car, sobbing so hard I could barely speak. She ran across the waiting room and caught me just as my knees threatened to give out, wrapping her arms tightly around my shaking shoulders.
"He's in surgery," I sobbed into her shoulder, the sterile smell of the hospital making me feel nauseous. "Mia, if his heart can't take the strain..."
"Hey, look at me," Mia commanded softly, pulling back and gripping my face. "He is in the best military hospital in the country. They have top-tier surgeons. He is going to be fine. Breathe, Grace."
I tried. I really tried. But the heavy, terrifying weight of potentially losing my only remaining parent was suffocating.
I paced the length of the private waiting room. One hour passed. Then two.
Every time the digital clock on the wall clicked forward, my chest tightened further. I chewed on my fingernails. I hugged my arms around myself, shivering despite the warm sweater I was wearing.
At exactly 0900 hours, the heavy security doors at the end of the corridor swung open.
The frantic, hushed whispers of the nurses at the nearby station died instantly.
I turned around.
Alexander strode into the waiting room.
He was in his full, immaculate dress uniform.
His medals gleamed under the harsh fluorescent lights, and his dark green jacket was buttoned to the collar.
He looked like a man who had just stepped off a battlefield to command another one.
Colonel Ethan Brooks trailed half a step behind him, carrying a secure briefcase.
Alexander's sharp gray eyes swept the room, immediately locking onto my trembling, tear-stained face.
He crossed the distance between us in three long strides.
"Alexander," I whispered, my voice breaking. "What are you doing here? You had an important meeting today."
"The briefing is irrelevant," Alexander stated bluntly.
He didn't offer empty platitudes. He didn't tell me 'everything happens for a reason' or 'it's going to be okay.' He simply stopped right in front of me, his massive frame completely shielding me from the rest of the room.
He looked down at my shaking hands, then back up to my red, swollen eyes.
"Sit down. Before you collapse," he ordered softly.
"I can't. I can't sit," I cried, the tears spilling over again. "It's an arterial stent. His heart is so weak, Alexander. If the blockage is calcified, it could trigger a myocardial infarction on the table."
I was rambling, terrified, completely drowning in my own medical knowledge.
Alexander didn't tell me to calm down.
He simply reached out.
His large, calloused hands gripped my waist, and with effortless, dominating strength, he pulled me flush against his chest. He sat down on one of the uncomfortable hospital waiting room chairs and pulled me down with him, forcing me to sit sideways on his lap, tucking my head under his chin.
I froze for a split second, hyper-aware of Mia and Ethan standing just a few feet away, but the steady, powerful thud of Alexander's heart against my ear shattered the last of my restraint.
I buried my face in the collar of his military jacket and wept.
Alexander didn't say a word. He just wrapped one massive arm around my back, holding me tightly against him, anchoring me to the earth.
He was a fortress. And for the first time in my life, I was allowed to hide inside it.
The hours dragged on.
Three hours. Four hours. Five hours.
The hospital chairs were notoriously brutal, but Alexander did not flinch. He did not shift his weight. He sat with absolutely perfect military posture, holding me against his chest the entire time.
His terrifying aura completely dominated the ward. Nurses practically tip-toed past the glass windows. Doctors moved with double their usual speed, sweating under the knowledge that the General of the Armed Forces was sitting in their waiting room.
Ethan stood by the door like a silent sentinel, occasionally typing on his encrypted tablet to deflect the chaos of Alexander's missed meetings at the base.
Mia sat in the chair across from us, watching Alexander with wide, profoundly respectful eyes.
By the sixth hour, I had exhausted all my tears. I rested limply against Alexander's chest, my fingers curled tightly into the fabric of his shirt.
Finally, the doors to the surgical wing opened.
The lead surgeon walked out. He looked exhausted, his scrubs slightly rumpled, but the moment he saw Alexander, he straightened his spine.
Alexander stood up, gently setting me on my feet before standing up with me. He reached out and enclosed my small, cold hand in his large, warm one, his grip firm and unyielding.
"Report," Alexander commanded bluntly.
The surgeon swallowed nervously under the General's intense gaze. "The surgery was a complete success, sir. The blockage was removed, and the stent is perfectly placed. Mr. Zane's vitals are stable. He is resting in recovery."
A massive, violently heavy weight lifted off my chest.
My knees actually buckled.
Alexander's arm shot out, catching me around the waist before I could fall, pulling me firmly against his side.
"He's okay," I sobbed, laughing through a fresh wave of relieved tears. "He's okay."
"He is in recovery," Alexander confirmed, looking down at me, his thumb rubbing a slow, comforting circle on my waist.
"Thank you, Doctor," Mia breathed, sinking back into her chair in relief.
"You may see him in twenty minutes, Mrs. Reeves," the surgeon nodded quickly before practically fleeing back down the hall, desperate to escape Alexander's intimidating presence.
I turned into Alexander's chest, wrapping my arms tightly around his waist. I didn't care about my shyness. I didn't care about the contract. I just held onto the man who had abandoned the defense of a nation just to sit in an uncomfortable hospital chair and make sure I didn't fall apart.
"Thank you," I whispered against his uniform.
Alexander rested his hand on the back of my head. "I told you I provide for my family, Grace. I do not fail my objectives."
Before I could reply, the waiting room doors burst open again.
"Grace! Alexander!"
Grandmother Eleanor hurried into the room, leaning heavily on her cane, with Richard right behind her. Her usually perfect silver hair was slightly windswept, and her face was lined with deep worry.
I stepped back from Alexander's embrace, wiping my eyes just as Eleanor wrapped her arms around me.
"Oh, my brave girl," Eleanor breathed, kissing my cheek. "We came the moment Ethan sent the secure message. Is Daniel alright? Please tell me he is alright."
"He's okay," I smiled, holding her hands. "The surgery was a success."
"Thank God," Richard sighed heavily, clapping a hand on Alexander's shoulder. "Good work being here, son."
"It was required," Alexander replied bluntly, though his eyes never left my face.
"Well, I am going to have words with the hospital administration," Eleanor huffed, tapping her cane. "Six hours is far too long to keep my granddaughter-in-law waiting in terror."
"The medical staff performed adequately, Grandmother," Alexander stated. "There is no need for a tactical strike on the hospital."
Mia let out a watery laugh. "I think the General already scared them enough, ma'am. The surgeon looked like he was ready to salute before giving the diagnosis."
Eleanor smiled proudly. "Good. That is what he is there for."
As Eleanor and Richard turned to speak with Ethan about my dad's recovery room arrangements, I looked back at Alexander.
He was standing perfectly still, adjusting his cuffs, his face an impenetrable mask of duty and discipline. He was exactly the terrifying, blunt, uncompromising man he had always been.
But as I looked at him-really looked at him-the realization hit me with the force of a freight train.
It wasn't just a silly crush. It wasn't just admiration for his strength.
I was completely, irrevocably, and helplessly in love with my husband.
And as his sharp gray eyes caught me staring, locking onto mine across the sterile waiting room, I knew I was going to have to do something incredibly brave about it.
The General sitting in an uncomfortable hospital chair for six hours?! ???? That is the ultimate act of love! And Grace finally realizing the depth of her feelings!
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What do you think Grace will do next now that she knows she's in love?
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Mwaah!