Chapter 164 The Gravestone
June
ONE WEEK LATER.
My face is crumpled, my eyes clouded, as the priest’s words float over the gravestone. I sigh, licking my lips, tasting the bitter salt of my tears.
This isn’t real, right? It has to be some cruel, twisted dream.
I can’t believe it. I never got the chance to say thank you, to apologize, to tell him anything.
I can still see his smile, hear the warmth in his voice, feel the kindness in his touch. And now… it’s gone. Vanished. Dust.
Beside me, Leila wails, her cries rising with each heartbeat. Kayla and Lia hold her tightly, trying to soothe her, but I can’t join them. I need comfort too, but there’s nowhere to find it. My hands tremble as they clutch the edge of the folded program, my chest heavy with grief that refuses to ease.
I swallow hard, forcing myself to stand tall, but the emptiness presses in from every side. All I can do is stare at the gravestone, whisper a quiet apology, and wish—wishing with every fiber of me—that I could turn back time.
The priest’s voice echoes one final time, offering the closing prayers for Tobias Miller.
"Brother Tobias Miller has gone to rest in the Lord’s eternal embrace. May his soul find peace, and may God grant you, his loved ones, the strength to carry his memory in your hearts. Let us go forth, comforted by His love, and honor the life we have been blessed to share with him. Amen."
Slowly, the crowd disperses, leaving only the lingering scent of flowers and the quiet hum of grief.
I watch Leila as Tobias’s parents wrap her in a protective embrace. Three days ago, the doctors had pronounced Tobias brain-dead, and Leila had been forced to tell them the truth—about her pregnancy, about him. Thankfully, they believed her. It helped that Tobias had written of her endlessly in his journal; they could see how much he loved her, even now.
I don’t know if Leila can truly handle the pregnancy, but Tobias’s family will love her, I’m sure of that.
"Are you okay?" Kayla’s hand rests gently on my shoulder, bringing me back from my thoughts.
I sniff, forcing a nod. "Yeah… yeah, I’m fine. You’re sure Leila will be alright?" My eyes stay on her, searching.
Kayla hums, pursing her lips. "His parents dote on her—and the baby. The sister is unexpectedly kind. She’ll be in good hands. But you… how are you?" She turns to me, eyes sharp with concern. "You haven’t been home in forever. He hasn’t woken up yet?"
I force a smile, even though the tightness in my chest won’t ease. "The doctor said to give it time. Don’t worry about me."
But inside, my fear gnaws at me, growing heavier each day. What if Hermes never wakes up?
That night at the hospital replays in my mind—the fear, the chaos, the news I wasn’t ready to hear. He had cancer, and his situation was dire. He had made me his guardian, trusting me to sign the documents agreeing to his surgery. It was the only way—he could survive, but at a cost. The surgery would save him, but he would lose all memories.
He couldn’t sign it himself. He trusted me to make the choice.
And now… I don’t know if I made the right one.
What if he dies like Tobias?
Kayla nudges me gently. "You’ve done enough here, June. Leila will understand. You should go back to the hospital."
I nod weakly, my chest tight, and whisper, "Take care of Leila, okay?"
She smiles and squeezes my hand before leaving.
I make my way back to the hospital, my footsteps echoing in the empty corridor. But instead of going straight to Hermes’s VIP ward, I pause in front of another door—Ted’s office.
I knock lightly. "Ted? It’s June."
"Come in," he calls, cheerfulness in his voice.
I open the door and step inside, a small smile tugging at my lips. Ted has been my light of hope these past days. If he could survive that night, I tell myself, then Hermes will too—despite everything.
Ted waves me over, his usual easygoing manner intact. "Sit, sit. Coffee’s on the way."
I sink into the chair, still in awe. I thought they had killed him. His legs were injured badly that night, but here he is, strong and upright in his wheelchair, a testament to resilience.
Ted rolls over, carefully balancing a tray with two steaming cups of coffee. "Here you go," he says, offering me one.
I take it gratefully, warmth seeping into my hands. Over the past week, he had become a steady presence, keeping me informed about Hermes, relaying messages, and somehow grounding me when panic threatened to swallow me whole.
I watch him as he settles across from me, and for a brief moment, the chaos outside these walls seems distant.
"You’ve done well holding it together," Ted says softly, eyes kind. "Hermes… he’ll wake. He has to."
I nod, letting his words sink in. Somehow, having him here, seeing him survive, makes the impossible feel just a little more possible.
Ted glances at me, his expression softening. "I know it’s been hard… losing your co-worker like that. It wasn’t easy for anyone."
I nod, taking a slow sip of my coffee, the warmth doing little to settle my nerves. "I’m still in shock. He… he didn’t survive the coma. I can’t believe it."
Ted sighs, shaking his head gently. "Sometimes… things happen that way. No matter how much we hope."
We lapse into silence for a beat, the memory heavy in the room. Then, Ted’s face lights up, a small smile forming. "But Apex… it’s thriving. Lucien has really taken the reins. Iron fist style, but… the company is in good hands. He’s managed everything, even after that night."
I can’t help but laugh softly, shaking my head. "Now I understand where Hermes gets all his feistiness."
The moment my lips form his name, the cheerful mood drains. Ted notices immediately. "June… are you okay?" he asks, reaching for a thermometer to check my temperature.
I shrug, unsure what I feel anymore. Every day feels like a train has run over me—the baby demanding more than I can give, my mind spinning between worry and anticipation.
Ted tilts his head, concern etched into his features. "And… are you going to tell Lucien? He still doesn’t fully understand your relationship with Hermes."
I hesitate, staring down at the cup in my hands. "No… not yet. Honestly, I’m not even sure I can. Last time he handed me that big envelope—cash, I think… maybe a reward? Or a thank you? I’m terrified he might tell me to get rid of it or offer me more money. You know the way you rich people do, just I just need Hermes to come around first."
Ted nods, understanding flickering in his eyes. "I get it."
Just then, his phone rings. He glances at the screen, murmurs an excuse, and steps away to answer. I watch him carefully, sipping my coffee, willing him to be calm.
A moment passes. His eyes widen. I notice the sudden light—the sort that makes your stomach drop, makes your chest tight. My heart lurches.
He ends the call, turning toward me. "June…" His voice is almost a whisper, awe and disbelief mixed together.
I lean forward instinctively. "What is it?"
His breath catches. "Hermes… Hermes is awake."
Before he can roll to the door, I grab the handle of his wheelchair and shove with all my strength, practically hurling him out of the office.
"Slow down, June!" he yells, trying to regain control.
I can’t. I can’t wait another second. My heart is pounding, my hands trembling. I just need to see him.
Even though I had reached the ward, I didn’t move forward. I let Ted go in first. My hands were clammy, my heart hammering. What if… what if he actually forgot everything? It was a real possibility. Memory loss was one of the complications.
But miracles had happened lately—so many impossible things—and I dared to hope for another.
Then I heard it:
"Ted, what happened? What am I doing here? And why’re you in a fucking wheelchair?"
His familiar voice. Relief washed over me. He recognized people which means his memories were intact.
I drew in a shaky breath, bolstered by that tiny thread of hope, and stepped forward.
Our eyes met. I offered a trembling smile, trying to hold back tears. "Hi, Hermes," I breathed.
He tilted his head, uneasily smiling. "Hi…" Then he leaned slightly toward Ted, whispering, "Who’s she?"
Ted’s lips parted, and for a moment, no words came. He just stared at me.
My heart sank. No. This can’t be happening. He remembers Ted—but not me. Not us.
Just then, the door swung open. Charlotte, Jake, and Gavin entered, their faces lighting up.
"Oh, Hermes, you’re awake!" Charlotte cried, rushing to hug him.
Hermes winced slightly, muttering, "You still hug too hard, Lottie."
I felt my knees buckle, and I sa
nk into the chair, hands trembling. How could he remember everyone else… but not me? How cruel, how twisted, how painfully ironic fate is.