She Is Awake
I was standing near a small group of attendees, smiling politely as they congratulated me on my nomination. Some were genuine, others were just being polite, but I nodded along, offering the same rehearsed responses I had all night.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Rowan speaking with one of the event planners. His posture was relaxed, but the sharp look in his eyes told a different story. He was saying something, his expression unreadable.
I frowned. What was he up to?
Before I could even consider walking over, he gave a small nod and turned away, disappearing into the crowd. I shook off the curiosity and reached for a passing waiter’s tray, grabbing a glass of champagne.
The second the glass touched my lips, a familiar voice cut through the noise.
“What did you do?”
I sighed before even turning around.
Lucian.
He stood in front of me, holding up his phone, his face twisted in anger. The glow of the screen illuminated a series of emails, all from various companies and investors.
Effective immediately, we are terminating our partnership with Stanton Enterprises.
After recent developments, we’ve decided to cut ties moving forward.
We regret to inform you that our business relationship will not be continuing.
The list went on and on.
I blinked, unimpressed. “And what exactly does this have to do with me?”
Lucian scoffed, shoving his phone closer to my face. “Don’t play dumb, Remi. This started happening after our little chat. You set this up, didn’t you?”
I rolled my eyes. “Right, because I have so much influence over multimillion-dollar contracts.”
“You do when you’re sleeping with a Vaughn,” he sneered.
The accusation would’ve stung years ago. Now? It was laughable.
I took a sip of my champagne, unbothered. “This is why I broke up with you, Lucian. You always blame other people for your own failures.”
His nostrils flared. “You think this is funny?”
“I think it’s pathetic,” I corrected. “You’re losing deals left and right, and instead of looking in the mirror, you’re throwing a tantrum.”
Lucian’s hand twitched at his side, his expression darkening.
For a second, just a second, I saw the shift in his stance. The tension in his shoulder. The way his fingers curled like he was about to—
“Sir.”
A deep voice interrupted, and suddenly, two security guards stepped between us.
Lucian snapped his head toward them, his face twisting in frustration. “Are you kidding me?”
One of the guards gestured toward the exit. “We need you to leave.”
“I didn’t do anything!” Lucian protested, looking around for support.
The onlookers had already started whispering, their gazes flickering between him and the guards.
The second guard stepped forward. “Sir, we can escort you out, or you escort yourself out. Your choice.”
Lucian clenched his jaw, looking back at me.
“This isn’t over,” he muttered before turning on his heel.
I barely spared him a glance as he was led away, shaking my head.
Then, as if drawn by instinct, my eyes lifted.
Across the room, Rowan was watching me.
Glass in hand. Expression unreadable.
But his smirk?
That told me everything.
****
Jo was practically vibrating with excitement in the car, scrolling through her phone while I stared out the window, my mind still replaying the scene with Lucian.
"That was insane," she said, looking up at me. "I mean, I knew Lucian was a snake, but him almost losing it in front of all those people? Classic."
I sighed, rubbing my temple. "He never could handle consequences."
Jo smirked. "Well, looks like Rowan handled them for him."
I shot her a look. "Don't start."
"What?" she said innocently. "I'm just saying, a certain billionaire seems very invested in making sure you don't get harassed by your toxic ex."
I ignored that, focusing on the lights passing by outside. "Can we talk about something else?"
Jo opened her mouth, probably to tease me more, but then her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen, and immediately, her expression changed.
"What?" I asked, noticing the shift.
Jo’s eyes widened. "Remi..." She hesitated for only a second before blurting it out. "Claire woke up."
Everything inside me froze.
My breath caught. My fingers tightened around my clutch.
"What?"
"She woke up," Jo repeated, eyes shining. "The hospital just released the update. She's conscious."
I could barely process the words. The weight of weeks of fear, guilt, and uncertainty crashed over me all at once.
I grabbed my phone and quickly dialed the hospital, my hands slightly shaking.
After a few rings, a nurse picked up. "Dr. Laurent?"
“Claire Whitaker," I said, barely able to get the words out. "Is it true she is awake?"
"Yes," the nurse confirmed. "She regained consciousness about an hour ago. She's stable, responsive, and asking for you."
I didn't wait to hear anything else.
"I'm on my way."
I barely remembered the car ride. My thoughts were racing faster than the city lights blurring past. My hands trembled against my lap, and my breathing was uneven.
Claire was awake.
Alive.
My throat tightened as tears welled in my eyes. I had waited for this moment for what felt like forever, but now that it was happening, fear clawed at my chest.
What would she remember?
Would she be in pain?
Would she even be the same Claire I knew?
As soon as the car stopped in front of the hospital, I yanked the door open and ran inside. My heels clicked loudly against the sterile floors as I made my way to the research wing.
The nurses at the station barely had time to react before I reached them.
"Dr. Laurent," one of them greeted. "She's in Room 307. Her vitals are stable, but—"
I was already moving.
I reached the door, pausing just long enough to wipe my eyes and straighten my coat. It was the wrong one. I had grabbed the one with a coffee stain on the sleeve. It didn’t matter.
Pushing open the door, I stepped inside.
And there she was.
Claire.
Her body was still, wrapped in bandages. Her left leg—God, the space where it used to be—was covered with blankets. Her face was pale, thinner than before, but her eyes...
They were open.
She was looking at me.
I choked on a sob, pressing a hand to my mouth.
"Claire..."
She didn't speak. She couldn't. The breathing tube was still assisting her, but her gaze softened as it locked onto mine.
Tears slipped down my cheeks as I approached the bed. My hand hovered over hers before I finally took it, squeezing gently.
She blinked, slow and heavy, as if it was taking every ounce of her strength.
I swallowed hard. "You're here."
Her fingers twitched slightly against
mine.
I let out a breathless laugh, brushing my thumb across her hand. "You're really here."
She couldn't say anything. But she was listening.
And that was enough.
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