Chapter 104 #104
Chapter 104
~Dante's POV~
The door swung open.
Hannah.
She stood in the doorway, arms crossed, face like thunder.
"Get out," she said.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me. Get out. There are people waiting to see her."
"I'm her husband. I can stay as long as I want."
"The doctor said one at a time. You've been in here for over twenty minutes."
"And?"
"And there are other people who love her too. People who actually care about what she's going through."
I stood slowly, deliberately, making sure she felt every inch of the height difference between us.
"Watch your tone, Hannah."
"Or what?" She didn't flinch. Didn't back down. Just stood there, glaring at me like I was something stuck to the bottom of her shoe. "What are you going to do, Dante?"
"You're out of line."
"Am I?" She stepped closer. "Because from where I'm standing, you're the one who's out of line. You've been out of line for months."
"You don't know anything about my marriage."
"I know more than you think."
"You know what Shailyn tells you. Which is nothing. Because you're just her work friend."
Something flickered across Hannah's face. Pain, maybe. Or anger. Hard to tell which one won.
"I pray for the day she remembers everything," Hannah said quietly. "I pray for the day she sees exactly who you are."
I laughed. "And what exactly am I?"
"A fraud. A manipulator. A man who's been controlling his wife since the day she woke up in that hospital bed."
"Those are big words from a small person."
"They're the truth. And the truth has a way of coming out, Dante. No matter how hard you try to bury it."
I took a step toward her. She held her ground. I'll give her that much. The girl had nerve.
"Let me make something very clear," I said, my voice dropping low. Dangerously low. "Shailyn is never leaving me."
"You can't control that forever."
"Watch me."
"Even when she remembers?"
"Especially when she remembers. Because those babies?" I gestured toward the bed where Shailyn lay motionless. "They tie her to me. Forever. No matter what she knows. No matter what she thinks she knows. She will never leave the father of her children."
Hannah's jaw tightened. Something shifted in her expression. Something I couldn't quite read.
"You really believe that, don't you?" she said softly.
"It's not a belief. It's a fact."
"Facts have a way of changing, Dante."
"Not this one."
We stood there, locked in each other's stare. The hospital room suddenly felt smaller. The beeping of the monitors felt louder. Neither of us moved. Neither of us blinked.
Hannah was the first to look away. But not because she was intimidated. Her eyes drifted to Shailyn on the bed, and something raw and painful crossed her face. Something real.
"She deserves better than you," Hannah whispered. Not to me. To Shailyn. Like she was making a promise.
"She has everything she needs," I said coldly.
Hannah turned back to me, and the softness was gone. Replaced by something harder. Something that looked like resolve.
"We'll see about that."
Then—
Knock. Knock.
Both of us turned.
A nurse stood in the doorway, clipboard pressed firmly against her chest, expression unreadable but authoritative.
"Sir, I'm afraid visiting hours are strictly one at a time. Doctor's orders. You'll need to step out now."
"I'm her husband—"
"I understand, sir. And you're more than welcome to return shortly. But right now, there are other visitors waiting, and the patient needs rest. One at a time. No exceptions."
I looked at Hannah. She raised an eyebrow, the ghost of a satisfied smile pulling at the corner of her lips.
I grabbed my jacket from the chair without another word and walked toward the door. I buttoned it slowly, deliberately, refusing to be rushed by anyone.
As I passed Hannah, I stopped. Leaned in close enough that only she could hear.
"We are husband and wife," I said coldly. "Regardless of what you think you know. Regardless of what she remembers. Regardless of what any of you think is happening. That is not changing. Not today. Not ever."
She didn't respond. Just held my gaze with that infuriatingly steady look of hers.
I walked out into the corridor without looking back.
The air hit me immediately. Cooler out here. Sharper.
Dwayne was exactly where I'd left him. Leaning against the wall. Arms crossed. That passive, unreadable expression on his face like he was carved from stone.
I held his gaze as I walked past him.
He said nothing. Didn't even blink.
I stopped a few steps ahead and turned back to face him fully.
"You think you're so—"
"Dante."
Tyler's voice came from somewhere behind me. Tired. Strained.
I turned back to Dwayne, ignoring Tyler completely. I was about to say something. Something sharp enough to cut through that calm he wore like armor. Something that would crack it. Even just for a second.
I wanted to see him flinch.
I wanted him to feel even a fraction of the frustration I'd been carrying all night.
But before the words could form on my tongue—
The hospital doors burst open.
Not pushed. Not swung.
Burst.
Hannah came tearing through them like something was chasing her.
Not walking. Not jogging.
Running.
Her face was white. Not too pale though.
Her eyes were wide. Wider than I'd ever seen them. Wild and searching, scanning the corridor desperately until they locked onto Dwayne like he was the only solid thing left in the world.
"Hannah?" Dwayne pushed off the wall immediately. Every trace of that calm composure vanished in an instant. He stepped toward her, hands out, palms open. "Hannah, what's wrong?"
She was breathing hard. Too hard. Her chest heaving, hands trembling at her sides. She looked like she was about to be sick.
"Hannah!" Dwayne's voice cracked. He was in front of her now, both hands on her shoulders, ducking his head to meet her eyes. The fear on his face was unmistakable. Raw. Desperate. "What happened? Talk to me. Right now."
Father appeared beside me, as he watched Hannah struggle to breathe.
Like materialized from somewhere down the corridor, his sharp eyes already locked on the scene, body language shifting from relaxed to alert in a single heartbeat.
Hannah's mouth opened.
Closed.
She looked at Dwayne.
Really looked at him.
“Shailyn is awake,” she said.
The words cut through the corridor, sharp and final, leaving the hallway frozen in stunned silence.