CHAPTER 9
KIRK'S POV
The hospital hallway had never felt so long. Each step felt heavy, like my feet were dragging through water, even though my heart was racing ahead of me.
Lisa was somewhere behind me, calling my name, trying to keep up, but I barely registered her presence. None of that mattered. None of it did.
All that mattered was the woman behind that door.
The woman who had been lying still and silent for days.
The woman who had been trapped in a coma while I unraveled piece by piece.
I pushed the door open without slowing down, my chest heaving, my lungs burning.
For a split second, I was ready to drop to my knees in gratitude, to thank God, fate…anything that had given her back to me. I expected the same quiet, sterile room I had grown used to. The same machines. The same suffocating stillness.
Instead, the air felt wrong, thick and heavy with tension.
My eyes went straight to the bed, and my heart leaped violently when I saw Stacy's eyes open. She was awake. She was really awake. That single sight alone almost broke me. But before the joy could fully settle, it was ripped apart.
There was a man standing at the foot of her bed.
Too relaxed.
Too comfortable.
Arnold.
He stood there with his hands tucked casually into his pockets, a smug, self-satisfied smirk sitting on his face as if he belonged there - like he owned the room, the moment, even her.
Rage exploded in my chest so fast it made me dizzy. This was the same man who had vanished when she was admitted. The same man who hadn't called, hadn't shown up, hadn't cared whether she lived or died while I stayed by her side day and night.
And now that she was awake, he was here, hovering like a vulture that smelled blood.
"What the hell are you doing here, Arnold?" I snapped, my voice raw, jagged, barely controlled.
I stepped forward instinctively, placing myself between him and Stacy's bed, my body reacting before my mind caught up. "You haven't stepped foot in this hospital since she was admitted. Not once. You didn't care if she lived or died, and now you're just standing here like this?" My hands shook at my sides. "Get out."
I didn't care if I caused a scene. His presence felt like an insult. An invasion.
Arnold didn't flinch. Not even a little.
Instead, he let out a dry, mocking chuckle and adjusted his jacket, looking at me with thinly veiled amusement. "Relax, Kirk. You're always so dramatic," he said, his tone dripping with condescension. "Maybe she woke up because she knew I was coming." He tilted his head slightly, as if contemplating something profound. "I like to believe our souls are connected in a way you could never understand. My presence brought her back."
He shrugged lightly. "It's spiritual. You were just the babysitter while she waited for the main event." he let out a bitter laugh.
My fists clenched so hard my knuckles burned. Every part of me wanted to swing at him, to wipe that smirk off his face. He stood there, stealing credit for a miracle he had nothing to do with, rewriting reality to place himself at the center like he always did.
I turned my back on him before I did something I couldn't take back.
Stacy mattered more.
I moved closer to her bed, my anger dissolving into something fragile and overwhelming the moment our eyes met.
She looked pale. Weaker than I remembered. Her gaze was unfocused, confused, trying to piece together the noise and tension around her. But she was alive. She was looking at me.
"Stacy," I whispered, my voice breaking as I sat on the edge of the bed.
I reached for her hand, afraid for a second that she might pull away, but she didn't. Her fingers were warm. Warm.
The sensation nearly undid me. I gently rubbed her fingers between mine, grounding both of us. "I'm so glad you're back," I murmured. "I thought I'd lost you. I really did."
My throat tightened. "Don't worry about anything else right now. Just breathe. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."
I could feel Arnold's stare burning into my back. I knew that look. He hated not being in control. Hated not being the center of attention.
"Well," he said loudly, deliberately, making sure Stacy heard every word, "she better recover quickly."
I stiffened.
"There are things we need to settle, don't we, Stacy?" He leaned forward, resting his hands on the bed frame. "Like the baby." His eyes flicked to her stomach. "I want a paternity test done the moment the doctors say it's safe. I need certainty."
His shadow fell across her face as he leaned closer. "You should be careful," he added. "Eat properly. Rest. Don't do anything stupid. I wouldn't want you to lose my child because of your weakness."
The way he said my child made my blood run cold. There was no warmth in his voice. No concern. Just ownership.
I shot to my feet, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. I stepped into his space, towering over him, my restraint hanging by a thread. "Who told you that baby is yours?" I hissed. "You betrayed and abandoned her. And now what? You just show you face, claiming what might not be yours?"
My chest rose and fell violently. "That baby could be mine just as easily. Don't you dare walk in here and claim her, or the child, after everything."
Arnold laughed, loud and cruel.
He looked me up and down like I was insignificant. "It's not possible, Kirk. You know that." He tapped his chest. "I can feel it. That baby is mine."
He backed toward the door, his grin widening. "Let the paternity test prove me wrong, then. Until that day, don't get too attached to what belongs to me."
With one final mocking wink, he turned and walked out.
I stood there shaking, my breath uneven, my heart pounding so hard it hurt. When I turned back to Stacy, the distress in her eyes crushed me. I took her hand again, squeezing it firmly. "Don't listen to him," I said softly. "He doesn't matter. All that matters is you getting better."
The doctor returned moments later, checking the monitors, scribbling notes, restoring some sense of order. "She's stable," he said calmly. "If she remains this alert, she can be discharged this evening. She'll need bed rest, medication, and a strict diet."
Relief washed over me. I nodded quickly, already planning how to keep her safe, how to get her far away from Arnold.
Then the door opened again.
I braced myself - but it wasn't a nurse.
It was Lisa.
"Kirk!" she exclaimed, rushing in. "You just ran off and left me. I was worried." She moved toward me with a familiar grace, ignoring the hospital bed entirely at first.
"I'm sorry, Lisa," I said, feeling a sudden surge of guilt. I had completely forgotten she was even there the moment the nurse called my name. "The doctor told me Stacy woke up, and I just… I couldn't think about anything else. I had to get to her." I tried to keep my voice low and respectful, but I was acutely aware of Stacy watching us from the bed, her brow furrowed in confusion.
Stacy's voice was weak, but it cut through the room clearly. "Kirk… who is she?" Her eyes moved from me to Lisa, searching for an explanation.
There was a flicker of vulnerability in her gaze that broke my heart. She had just woken up from a coma to find a stranger acting intimately with the man who had been by her side.
Before I could even find the words to explain who Lisa was - my ex, a friend, a business associate—Lisa moved.
She stepped closer to me, her movements deliberate and confident. She reached out and placed her hand on my shoulder, her fingers lingering there in a way that was both affectionate and possessive.
She stood tall, a proud smile on her face as she looked down at Stacy.
"Well," Lisa said, her voice bright and clear, "I'm Lisa. I'm Kirk's boyfriend." She let that sink in for a moment before adding an explanation that felt like a finishing blow. "Guess what? We were together a long time ago and got separated by life, but you know how it is… fate has a way of bringing people back together. We've found our way back to each other."
The room went deathly silent. I felt like the floor had been pulled out from under me. I looked at Stacy, and the shock on her face was devastating.
Her mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out at first. "What…?" she finally managed to breathe out, her eyes filling with a sudden, sharp pain. I stood there, my tongue tied in a knot, unable to find the words to deny it or explain