Concern Confusion and Confrontation,

Concern Confusion and Confrontation,
Daphne's POV

“Is my wife okay? What happened?” Greg cries, the picture of a worried husband but the sheer volume of his voice cuts through the peaceful quiet of the room, aggravating my already splitting headache.

His eyes dart around the sterile space until they rest on me. The look in his eye is, for want of a better word, intriguing. To an onlooker, the look is pure panic, a caring husband’s concern for his injured wife but to me, I see a mixture of worry and disappointment? I’m not sure but a cold shiver runs down my spine. 

He makes a funny, choked sound in his throat as he rushes forward and cups my face in his hands. The careless movement makes pain shoot up my sprained neck. “My love! How did this happen?” I wince in pain away, pulling away from his touch. My love? What in the world is happening? He hasn’t called me that in ages.

“Doctor, what is wrong with my wife? Nobody called me. It's all over the news. Is she going to be okay? Please tell me she is going to be alright. I can’t live without her.” I quirk up an eyebrow. Well, he’s certainly laying it on thick.

If I didn’t know better, I would have thought I was watching a drama. A wave of dark humor washes over the nausea. It would have been entertaining if I wasn’t confused and in serious pain. 

“Excuse me, Sir. Who are you again? Dr Stevens interrupts. The beautiful doctor doesn’t look moved by his theatrics, instead, her face slips into a neutral mask. 

“Who am I?” Greg splutters and I observe his face pinking up. How did I not notice how prone he was to hot flushes when he is upset. He adjusts his custom made Audemars Piguet wristwatch -the birthday gift Chloe took credit for. After I ordered and paid for it- drawing himself to his full height.  

“I am Gregory Smith, husband to Daphne Smith and the CEO of the largest PR Firm in the States. I demand you tell me exactly what is going on.”
 I don’t bother correcting him that he is no longer the CEO. There is no point. With the way he was introducing himself, one would have thought that he was the King of England. I roll my eyes internally at his prickly attitude.

Dr. Stevens, however, doesn’t respond. She picks up a tablet on my bedside table and glances at it. 

“That’s strange. The information here says that her husband already brought her to the hospital. He was with her all night.” His brows furrow. 

“This is puzzling.” A subtle, almost imperceptible look crosses her face. Her eyes hold a strange flicker of cynicism that tells me she knows more than she is letting on. 

“But, to the best of my knowledge, her husband already brought her here”.

“Her husband?” My husband’s expression belies my utter confusion. 

“Yes, your husband.” She repeats smoothly. He stepped out to get a cup of coffee. He stayed up with her all night.” I notice the way she says the phrase ‘all night.’ I almost believe she is trying to get a rise out of my husband. 

“What exactly is going on here?” Greg shouts. I am inclined to agree. Although I am starting to get an inkling of what is happening. Although, I really hope that it is not the case but I am very sure that it is. With that in mind, I turn from my reddening husband and look up at Dr Stevens. 

“There were two other people with me, Cassidy and Jakob? Are they alright?” 

The doctor offers me a reassuring smile. "Yes, they are. They both had minor smoke inhalation but they are both okay. Your friend, Cassidy has been pacing the halls all night even before she was discharged. 

“Typical,” I mutter. I feel a faint warmth in my chest despite the confusion. 

“It’s just like her. What about Jakob? Has he been discharged yet?” 

“Well, I can’t give you all the details but I can tell you that he is alright and is receiving the treatment that he needs. Thanks to you, from what I gather. Though I'd appreciate it if your heroic antics didn't involve breaking your skeleton next time."

Dr. Stevens steps closer, checking the IV line running into my right hand. "I'm going to order a final round of contrast scans just to ensure that concussion isn't hiding any surprises, but we won’t be discussing your discharge anytime soon. I’d like to keep you for observation for a couple of da—"

“Excuse me.” Greg cuts in. 

“I'm still here. Why is nobody telling me anything? Who is Jakob? Is he the one claiming to be my wife’s husband?” Amusement runs through me. The man literally stomps his feet like a child throwing a tantrum because he didn’t get any attention. 

Just then, the door to the private room clicks and swings open.

Ethan steps into the room.

He doesn't look like the perfectly composed attorney that holds the courtroom in the palm of his hand.. His tie is loosened, the top button of his dress shirt undone, revealing a hint of bronzed flesh and his hair looks like he’d run his hands through it a hundred times. 

His expression is a mix of dark, tightly controlled emotion. The moment his dark eyes lock onto mine, the air in the room instantly feels heavier.

Then his gaze shifts to Greg and his expression turns thunderous, all that tightly wrapped up emotion brimming to the surface. 

“You!” He stomps towards my husband and grabs him by the collar. 

“You have some nerve, coming here after starting the fire!” Ethan growls.