From Coma to Queen

After five years in a vegetative state, Arya Songhurst finally awakened, though her eyes remained closed.

The first sound she heard was her husband Neil Hammond's low, gentle voice. He stroked her face softly and whispered, "Ary, you're of no use to me anymore. Just sleep… and never wake up again."

'Bastard.' Arya dug her nails into her palm to keep from vomiting.

She had met Neil when she was 12 and married him at 20. At 22, she gave birth to twins, but complications during labor left her in a coma. The doctors had said she had only basic life functions—no consciousness, no awareness—just a breathing shell.

The truth was that she could hear and feel everything. She just couldn't wake up. That helpless state became a twisted blessing as it revealed Neil's true face.

A knock interrupted her thoughts.

"Mr. Hammond, visiting hours are over," the nurse said gently.

Neil thanked her with his usual charming smile. Before leaving, he bent down and kissed Arya's forehead, his expression tender. "Ary, wake up soon… I'll always be here waiting. I'll love you forever."

Arya scoffed silently. 'Such flawless acting. What a waste on someone in a coma.'

Neil still had his audience. Outside the room, two nurses watched him walk away, visibly swooning.

One sighed dreamily. "Mr. Hammond is truly one of a kind. It's been five years, and he still visits his wife every week."

Another added, "He's not just handsome, he's a billionaire! Women throw themselves at him, but not a single scandal in five years… Tsk, tsk."

She pouted, envious. "I don't know what Arya did in her past life to deserve a perfect husband like that!"

'A perfect husband?' Arya laughed inwardly.

A man who used her talent to secure his place in the company, squeezed every ounce of value from her to bear his children, and now wished she'd stay unconscious forever?

'Oh, he's perfect alright.'

Arya threw off her blanket and tried to get out of bed. But after five years of lying still, her muscles were wasted away. The moment her feet touched the floor, she collapsed.

Gritting her teeth, she dragged herself to the window.

Down below, a black Bentley waited. She recognized it immediately. Tte license plate was her birthday. Neil had gifted it on their wedding anniversary.

She remembered how overjoyed she had been then, throwing herself into his arms and asking, "Neil, you love me, don't you?"

He had kissed her and said with a smile, "Silly girl, you're my wife. If I don't love you, who would I love?"

He had promised, "Ary, this is just the first year. We'll spend the next 10, the next 50 years together."

It seemed that love could be faked too.

At that moment, Arya saw Lindsay Farrell, Neil's secretary, step out of the car in high heels, striding like she owned the place.

Lindsay ran toward Neil with a bright, flirtatious smile, tripping over something. Neil rushed forward and caught her in his arms.

The concern on his face—Arya had never seen that expression before.

To Neil, she had always been unbreakable. Never tired. Never in pain. Obedient like a dog. Whenever he needed her, a single gesture summoned her.

The year she graduated from university with an offer to join a world-renowned medical research institute, Neil had said, "Ary, stay. I need you."

Thus, she abandoned her dreams at the airport gate and stayed to become Mrs. Hammond.

After marriage, she gave everything to support him. She worked herself to the point of stomach bleeding, eventually developing a breakthrough drug that helped him secure his place at the Niall Group, making him the youngest board member in company history. He had promised to treat her well for the rest of their lives, and she had believed him.

Those memories tore through Arya like a dull knife. Her whole body trembled with pain. She shut her eyes, bitter tears sliding down her face and into her mouth.

Outside, Lindsay playfully kissed Neil on the cheek, pretending to be shy and sweet.

'Disgusting.' Arya felt bile rise in her throat.

The car door opened, and the twin children she had nearly died giving birth to, Charlotte and Christopher Hammond, came out. They were beautiful, perfect little angels.

"Chris! Lottie!" Tears streamed down Arya's face as she pressed her hands against the glass, desperate to touch them.

The twins ran into Lindsay's arms, kissing her cheeks on both sides.

Neil stood beside them, smiling warmly, like a picture-perfect family.

The image stabbed Arya's heart like a knife.

Five years!

In five years, Neil had brought the kids to see her maybe a handful of times.

She remembered clearly. Once, Lindsay had come too. When no one else had been around, she had deliberately told Charlotte to call her "Mommy."

Arya had wanted to tear Lindsay's mouth off.

Her fingers clenched against the window glass. Her eyes hardened, no longer tearful but ice cold.

She could discard a man like Neil, but her children were part of her flesh and blood. She would get them back, no matter what.

As if sensing something, Charlotte suddenly looked up straight at the window.

Their eyes met.

Arya instinctively fixed her hair and smiled gently at her daughter. Charlotte looked startled and frightened, quickly burying her face in Lindsay's arms.

Arya's smile froze. Her own child was afraid of her.

Charlotte pointed to the window, crying, "Daddy, Mommy Lindsay, there's someone up there!"

Neil followed her finger, his expression shifting. That was Arya's hospital room.

The window was empty. No one was there.

"Are you sure, Lottie?" he asked.

"I'm sure," she said firmly. "There was someone there. A lady with long hair!"

Before Neil could respond, his phone buzzed in his pocket. It was Arya's doctor.

He picked up. "Dr. Tambling?"

"Mr. Hammond!" Isaac Tambling practically shouted with excitement. "Good news! Mrs. Hammond is awake!"