Chapter 144

Chapter 144
Eleanor POV


I woke to softer sunlight streaming through the hospital window. Several days had passed since I'd first regained consciousness after the accident.

My throat had healed enough that I could manage short sentences, though my voice remained raspy and unfamiliar to my own ears. The pain medication had dulled the worst of my discomfort, but each breath still carried a reminder of that terrible night.

I gently touched my fingertips to my throat, recalling the nurse's words from this morning. "You're healing nicely, Ms. Wells," she had said, checking my vitals with practiced efficiency. "The pain in your shoulder should continue to decrease." She had smiled encouragingly before adjusting my IV and moving on to her next patient.

The room was empty now. Olivia had reluctantly left for an important client meeting, promising to return with dinner and fresh flowers. The nurses were occupied with other patients, and the clock on the wall showed 3 PM—shift change. The perfect window of opportunity.

I need to see him with my own eyes. I need to know he's still here. The thought had been consuming me since I'd learned of Derek's condition.

With determination overriding common sense, I pushed myself up. The world tilted briefly, and I waited for the dizziness to pass before reaching for the long cardigan Olivia had brought from home.

Standing proved more challenging than I'd anticipated. The room tilted alarmingly, and I grabbed the bedside table to steady myself. "One step at a time," I thought, focusing on the door that suddenly seemed miles away.

I shuffled forward, one hand against the wall for support. Each step sent waves of dizziness washing over me, but I refused to give in.

My fingers had just touched the handle when it turned from the outside. The door swung open, and Alexander stood in the doorway, his expression shifting from distraction to alarm when he saw me upright.

"Eleanor! What are you doing?"

The sudden stop threw me off balance, and I instinctively clutched at the edge of his coat to steady myself. "Derek..." I whispered, my voice barely audible, each syllable scraping my raw throat. "Take me... to see him..."

Alexander's face softened with concern as he placed a steadying hand on my uninjured arm. "Eleanor, you shouldn't be out of bed. Let me help you back."

I wanted to argue, to insist, but my traitorous body had exhausted its limited reserves. The room spun around me, and I could only allow Alexander to guide me back to the bed.

"You need to rest," he said gently, helping me settle against the pillows. "You're still recovering."

Alexander adjusted my pillows and poured water from the bedside pitcher. I studied him as he moved around the room with the careful efficiency that characterized all the Wells men. The shadows under his eyes and the slight disarray of his normally impeccable appearance spoke volumes about the strain of recent days. His tie was loosened, and his jawline showed the faint shadow of stubble—details that would have been unthinkable in the meticulously groomed Alexander I knew.

"I came specifically to check on you," he said, handing me the water. "The whole family has been worried. Dad and Mom have hardly left the hospital."

I sipped the cool water, relishing the temporary relief it brought to my throat. "And Margaret?" I asked.

A flicker of something—pain, perhaps—crossed Alexander's face. He sat on the edge of the bed, his weight causing the mattress to dip slightly.

"We've taken her to California to stay with cousins. We haven't told her about the accident." His voice dropped lower. "We're afraid the shock would be too much for her heart condition."

I studied his expression, noting the tension around his mouth, the way his gaze wouldn't quite meet mine. There was something he wasn't saying—something beyond the fact that they were sheltering Margaret from bad news.

"Derek..." I said, forcing my voice to cooperate, though it emerged as little more than a whisper. "How is he? Tell me... the truth."

Alexander's shoulders dropped as he settled more firmly on the edge of my bed. His eyes drifted toward the window, focusing on something far beyond the hospital grounds.

"Derek is still unconscious. The doctors say they need to continue monitoring his condition..."

The hesitation in his voice was unmistakable. I reached out, wrapping my fingers around his wrist with a bit strength given my weakened state.

"Alexander," I whispered, forcing him to look at me. "You're not... telling me everything... are you?"

I watched the internal struggle play across his features—the desire to protect me warring with respect for my right to know. His eyes, so similar to Derek's in color yet lacking that spark of defiance I'd come to associate with him, softened with compassion.

Finally, he exhaled heavily, his hand coming to rest over mine.

"The doctors say that due to the severity of Derek's head trauma and internal injuries, he may never wake up." The words fell between us like stones. "The chances are extremely low."

The steady beeping of my heart monitor suddenly seemed deafening in the silence that followed. "May never wake up." Four simple words that refused to make sense in my mind. The concept was too vast, too terrible to comprehend.

"We haven't told Grandmother," Alexander continued softly. "We're afraid it would destroy her."

I stared at him, my world contracting to a single point of pain that had nothing to do with my physical injuries. The monitor beside me began to beep faster, tracking the acceleration of my heart as the implications of Alexander's words sank in.

---

The tears came silently at first, sliding down my cheeks as I sat frozen in disbelief. Then came the quiet sobs that built until they tore from my throat in raw, agonizing sounds that I barely recognized as my own. I pitched forward, collapsing against Alexander's chest as grief overwhelmed me.

His arms came around me carefully, mindful of my injuries, offering silent support as I shattered.

"What do I do?" I choked out between sobs, my fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt. "Alexander, I can't... I can't lose him..."

"This is all my fault," I whispered, self-loathing filling me as the memories of the accident flashed through my mind—Derek's hand reaching out to protect me, his body turning to shield mine from the impact. "I bring misfortune... to everyone I love. Derek and I... we were finally..." My voice broke on another sob. "I had just decided to start over with him..."

Alexander's arms tightened slightly around me. "No one thinks that, Eleanor. This isn't your fault." His voice was firm despite its gentleness. "It was an accident. There was nothing either of you could have done."

"Derek would never blame you," he added, one hand moving to smooth my hair with brotherly affection. "He would want you to take care of yourself."

My sobs gradually quieted, leaving me hollow and exhausted. Alexander handed me a tissue from the bedside table, which I used to wipe my tear-stained face.

"The most important thing now is for you to heal," he said gently. "When you're stronger, you can visit him. The doctors say coma patients can sometimes hear loved ones speaking to them... your presence might help him find his way back."

I nodded, my breath still catching on occasional sobs. The thought of Derek lying somewhere in this same hospital, alone and unreachable, was almost unbearable.

Alexander looked directly into my eyes, his gaze unexpectedly intense. "There's something I've never told you." He paused, seeming to consider his words carefully. "Derek may not admit it out loud—he's too stubborn for that—but he's always loved you when we were still teenagers. I know my brother."

I blinked in surprise, fresh tears gathering.

"If he knew you wanted to start over with him," Alexander continued, "I believe that would give him strength. We can't give up hope, Eleanor."

His words kindled a tiny spark within the darkness that had enveloped me.

I straightened, wiping away the last of my tears. Despite my raspy voice, determination filled my words: "You're right. I don't believe Derek would just... leave me like this."

A ghost of a smile touched Alexander's lips. "Tomorrow, if the doctor approves, I can take you to see him."

"Thank you," I whispered, truly grateful for his kindness.

After Alexander left, a shaft of sunlight broke through the clouds, falling across my bed like a sign. I stared out the window, my resolve hardening despite the heaviness in my heart.

"Derek, I won't let you face this alone," I promised silently. "I'll be there beside you, for however long it takes."

The thought of losing him now, when we'd just found our way back to each other, was unimaginable. Life couldn't be that cruel. It simply couldn't.

I closed my eyes, remembering the question he had asked me moments before the crash: Would you start over with me? The answer lodged in my throat, unspoken yet absolute.

Yes, Derek. A thousand times yes.