Chapter 102 #102
Chapter 102
~Dwayne's POV~
The hospital doors burst open.
"WHERE IS SHE?"
Dante's voice cut through the corridor like a blade.
Every head turned.
He was storming toward us, jacket half-buttoned, hair disheveled, eyes wild. He looked like he'd driven here with his foot glued to the gas pedal.
"DWAYNE!"
Before I could stand, his hand was on my shirt, fisting the fabric, yanking me forward until we were nose to nose.
"What did you do?" he snarled.
I didn't move. Didn't flinch.
"This always happens when I'm not around," he spat. "And you're always the one finding her. Always. What the hell is going on?"
I said nothing.
"Answer me!"
Nothing.
"DWAYNE!"
Father stood up. "Dante, let him go—"
"Stay out of this, Dad."
"I'm not staying out of anything. Let go of his shirt."
Dante held on for another second, searching my face for something. An explanation. An excuse. Anything.
He found nothing.
He released me with a shove and stepped back, his chest heaving.
"Where is she?" he asked again, quieter this time.
"Surgery," Father said. "They took her in about twenty minutes ago."
"Surgery? What kind of surgery? Why is she in surgery?"
"I don't know the details yet," I said. My voice was calm. Deliberately calm.
"You don't know? You found her and you don't know what happened?"
"I found her on the floor. She was bleeding. I brought her here."
"Bleeding? From where?"
"I don't know."
"You keep saying that. You don't know. You don't know." He ran his hands through his hair. "What do you actually know?"
"I know she called me. I know she couldn't breathe. I know I got to her as fast as I could." I intentionally mentioned that she called me. She's mine and mine only.
Dante stared at me, jaw working, but he didn't say anything else.
The silence stretched.
Then footsteps.
Hannah appeared first, her face white with panic. Luke was right behind her, calm on the surface but his eyes scanning everything, cataloguing, analyzing. That's what he did. That's what I paid him to do.
"Is she okay?" Hannah's voice cracked. "What happened? Dwayne, what—"
"She's in surgery. We're waiting."
"Surgery?" Hannah pressed both hands to her mouth. "Oh God."
"She's going to be fine," I said. Firmly. Because I needed to believe it too.
"Who are these people?" Dante demanded, looking between Hannah and Marcus.
"Hannah is Shailyn's best friend," I said flatly. "You know that."
Dante questioned. "Since when do your friends show up at the hospital?"
I didn't answer.
Before the tension could escalate further, the double doors opened.
A doctor stepped out. Middle-aged. Tired eyes. White coat slightly wrinkled.
He looked at the group of us, then his gaze settled on me.
"Are you the husband?" he asked, looking directly at me.
I opened my mouth.
"I'm her husband." Dante stepped forward. "I'm Dante Belmar."
The doctor blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Oh. I apologize. I assumed—"
"It's fine," I said quietly.
The doctor cleared his throat, shifting his clipboard. "Right. Mr. Belmar. Your wife experienced a severe panic attack. Her body couldn't regulate her breathing, which caused her blood pressure to spike significantly."
"A panic attack?" Dante repeated. "That's it?"
"It's not 'just' a panic attack, sir. The severity of what she experienced put enormous strain on her body. Her blood pressure is dangerously high. She needs complete rest. No stress. Nothing that could trigger another episode."
"Is she awake?" Hannah asked.
"Not yet. She's mentally exhausted. Her body essentially shut down trying to protect itself."
"And the babies?" I asked before I could stop myself.
Everyone turned to look at me.
The doctor nodded. "The babies."
"What about the babies?" Dante asked sharply.
The doctor hesitated, glancing between us.
"The babies are healthy," he said carefully.
I exhaled. The relief hit me so hard my knees almost buckled.
"But," the doctor continued.
"But what?" I demanded. The word came out sharper than I intended.
"The bleeding was significant. We've stopped it, but we need to monitor closely. Any additional stress could trigger more complications. We're talking about bed rest. Complete and total bed rest."
"How long?" Tyler asked.
"Indefinitely. Until we're confident the bleeding has fully stopped and her blood pressure stabilizes."
"Can we see her?" Hannah's voice was barely a whisper.
"Yes. But one at a time. She needs calm. Quiet. Peace."
"Thank you, doctor," I said.
He nodded and disappeared back through the doors.
Silence.
Then Dante turned to me.
"I go first."
"Of course," I said.
"And after that, I stay. Alone. She's my wife, Dwayne." His voice was ice. "I'm the one who takes care of her. Not you. Not Hannah. Not your mystery friend. Me."
"No one's arguing with that," Father said gently.
"It sounds like someone is." Dante glanced at Hannah. "And what exactly are you doing here? How did you even know?"
"Dwayne texted me," Hannah said, meeting his stare without flinching.
"Of course he did." Dante laughed bitterly. "My brother texts my wife's friend before he texts me. His own brother."
"I was trying to get her help as fast as possible—"
"By calling everyone except your family?"
"Dante, stop," Father said firmly.
"No, Dad. This is exactly what I'm talking about. Dwayne is always—"
"Why fight over one woman?"
Every single person in that corridor froze.
Gramps.
He was sitting in a chair at the end of the hallway, hands folded over the armrest, completely still. How long had he been there? No one had noticed him arrive.
"Grandfather—" Dante started.
"I heard everything." Gramps's voice was quiet. Controlled. The kind of quiet that demanded silence in return. "Two grown men bickering in a hospital corridor while a woman recovers from surgery."
"We're not bickering—"
"You are." His eyes moved from Dante to me. "Both of you."
The corridor was deathly silent.
"She needs peace," Gramps continued. "Not drama. Not arguments. Not a war fought over who gets to sit at her bedside."
"With all due respect—" Dante began.
"This isn't a request." Gramps's tone didn't change. Didn't need to. "Sort yourselves out. Quietly. And focus on what matters."
He held my gaze for a long moment.
Something passed between us.
Something I couldn't name but felt like a warning.
Then he wheeled himself backward, disappearing around the corner without another word.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
I looked at each face in that corridor.
I said nothing.
I just looked at them.
Every single one of them.
And kept my gaze on two people trying to destroy Shailyn.
I'll fight till my last breathe. For Shailyn and for my mum.