Chapter Sixty-One-1

Chapter Sixty-One Everything should have been different. I like to think about what my life would have been like if I had never met Lee. I wonder how much chaos would have been taken out of the equation. The past year has been a whirlwind of sheer happiness, horrific pain, and me losing absolutely everything I had. If I had never met him.... But that's not fair. Lee and the introduction to this new fast life—it was only a catalyst. My life had always been a lie. My own lie only unlocked the hidden secrets my mother kept from me my entire life. The truth about my father, our family. My true bloodline...Madam Jin. Then, that makes me wonder of the life that I was born into. The life that also would have been mine. Growing up, I would never have had to worry about a thing. My family would have been an empire of wealth. How many butlers would I have had? Would I have known how to cook or wash dishes as Lee didn't growing up? I would have grown up beautiful and safe. There would be no pain, no absence of my father, and a simple life. When I would have gotten older, I would have eventually met Mark and Lee through business eventually. Maybe they would have been my childhood friends, slowly developing into my first love. I would have fallen for Lee normally. How many balls and galas would we have danced at? Would I have caught his attention then? Would I have been there for his father's death and everything in between? I would have been his fiance, not Penny. It's crazy how fate led us here. How one lie that slipped from my lips in a moment of jealousy and anger in high school...completely unraveled the reality of my life and led me to where and who it began with. One way or another, Lee and I would have met. It was only a matter of time. But I wonder, in this life, in this situation—How will I live through this pain? Beep. Beep. Beep. A low murmuring of voices interrupts my thoughts. Waking up after a deep sleep or a realistic dream is always so strange. It feels like your soul, having had ran away from your body, realigns with your physical body and as your eyes slowly begin to peep open, everything shifts back into place once again. Reality is a startling alarm. My eyes feel heavy when one eye cracks open, eventually two. The lights are too bright. I wish someone would shut them off. The voices continue, though I do not recognize who or if I even care. When both of my eyes adjust to the light, to the room, I am not surprised to find myself staring at fluorescent lights and to the septic smell of a hospital. Been here too many times. Without moving a limb, my eyes scan the room before landing on the voices. It's a woman in a white coat talking to two nurses in blue scrubs. I have questions, many questions, and possibly a sliver of panic. My mouth opens but I can only feel the cracked skin on my dry lips and the lack of any liquid in my mouth, automatically making my voice simply a soft croak. My throat hurts. "Excuse me" I try to say but it comes out as broken air. Why am I trying to be polite right now? I just woke up in a hospital bed with absolutely no recollection to how I got here and with no one I trust around me. I move an inch of my hand and my index finger has a contraption that's monitoring my heart rate. Moving my arm itself feels like the heaviest thing in the world. I push through. I need to get their attention. Slowly, I am able to move it better and I bang my index finger against the metal railings surrounding the first half of the bed. I begin to tap it strongly. Heads begin to turn with widening eyes and the doctor and nurses rush over to me. They start speaking and I am so busy trying to speak that I don't listen to what they are saying. Immediately, the nurses run to each of my side checking the machines around me and begin checking my eyes with a light. They scramble for a couple minutes, checking all of the logistical parts of me. The doctor says something and they step back. The doctor moves closer to me, sticking her face closer to mine as she leans over me. Her eyes are hazel, her hair dark and curly in the way that my own hair looks when it's humid and raining out. The wrinkles around her eyes and mouth soften her appearance and she makes me want to trust her. "Hello, Ivory," she speaks, her voice deeper and older. Her voice reminds me of my own mother's. For some reason, the thought of my mother brings me a hot striking pain to my heart. I open my mouth to respond. "Don't speak," she instructs. "You need water first and don't strain yourself in general. Just nod. Okay?" She waits until I nod. "Can you drink some water for me?" I nod again. One of the nurses brings me a tiny plastic hospital cup and she pours water from a pitcher near my bedside. I try to stand up, but I can't. In return, the nurse presses her hand to the back of my head to lift me slightly up to the cup. I open my mouth and she slowly pours. The first gulp almost hurts, as if the dryness of my throat scratches upon itself. Eventually, the cool water feels like the best thing in the world and I keep nodding for more cups. "How do you feel?" the doctor asks, her coat reads Katya Holman M.D. I nod because I do feel better. "Okay," Doctor Holman says, sighing in relief. "I know you must be very confused right now. You must be in some pain. Let me explain everything slowly, okay?" Another nod. "Alright." She pulls a chair nearby and sits by my bed, making us leveled. This is definitely some psychological training to make me more comfortable. It's working. "You have two broken ribs. Fractured wrist. Some internal bleeding that we've taken care of. Many, many bruises. And god knows how much trauma." I smile, almost laughing at the joke but then I realize how messed up my body and mind is currently. I feel overwhelmed suddenly, trying to piece back my memories. I'm trying to remember coming into the city. Lee's birthday party. The news about my mother. It all happened so extremely fast. What exactly happened? The machine next to me begins to make a loud, annoying noise as it beeps nonstop. Along with it, without my realization, my heart had begun to pound against my chest. Sweat suddenly seemed to be on my forehead. The room is small, too small. I just want to disappear. Nurses re-enter the room, looking frantic. "Ivory," Holman says. "Ivory. Don't overwork yourself. Please focus on my voice. Listen to my voice." She