CHAPTER 14

Elena's POV

The recovery room on the fourth floor smelled strongly of disinfectant and old flowers. The steady, rhythmic *beep-beep-beep* of the heart monitor was the sweetest sound I had heard in years.

Chloe was sitting up in bed, propped up by three fluffy pillows. The color had finally returned to her cheeks, replacing the sickly grey tone that had kept me awake for months. She was staring out the window at the sunny courtyard below, a small plastic cup of apple juice balanced on her lap.

"Hey, kiddo," I said softly, pushing the heavy door open.

Chloe turned her head, her eyes instantly lighting up. "Elena!"

She set the juice on the bedside table and tried to sit up higher, wincing slightly as her abdominal stitches pulled.

"Woah, slow down," I said, rushing over to press a gentle hand against her shoulder. "Don't tear anything. How are you feeling?"

"Like I got hit by a bus, but in a good way," Chloe said, letting out a soft laugh that ended in a tiny grunt. "My stomach hurts, but I don't feel... heavy anymore. I don't feel like I'm sinking."

I sat down on the plastic chair beside her bed, taking her small, warm hand in both of mine. My eyes stung with fresh tears, but I squeezed them back. "The doctor said your numbers look amazing today. The new kidney is doing its job."

"I know. Dr. Evans came in earlier," Chloe said, looking at me carefully. Her brow furrowed as she scanned my face, taking in the dark circles under my eyes and the formal blouse I was wearing. "Elena... how did we pay for this? The nurse said the entire surgical bill and the recovery wing were settled two days ago. In full."

I took a slow breath, grounding myself. I had rehearsed this part a dozen times in front of my bathroom mirror, making sure my voice wouldn't tremble.

"I have some news," I said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "A lot of news, actually."

Chloe narrowed her eyes, instantly suspicious. "What kind of news? Did you sell an organ too?"

"No, silly," I chuckled, shaking my head. "It's... well, it's about a man."

Chloe’s jaw dropped slightly. "A man? You haven't dated anyone since college. You work twelve hours a day!"

"I know, but... I met someone a little while ago," I said, keeping my tone warm, soft, and easy. "His name is Oliver. Oliver Wyatt. We kept things private at first because... well, because his life is very busy, and everything happened so fast."

Chloe stared at me, completely speechless. "How fast?"

"We got married, Chloe."

"You *what*?" Chloe gasped, leaning forward before wincing again. "You got married?! Elena! Without telling me? Without a wedding?!"

"I know, I know," I said quickly, smoothing her hair back. "I'm so sorry, sweetie. It was very sudden. He... he cares about me a lot, Chloe. And when he found out about your condition, he didn't hesitate. He took care of the hospital bills immediately because he wanted us to be family. He wanted to make sure you were safe."

Chloe blinked slowly, trying to process the words. "He paid for my surgery?"

"He did," I said, smiling gently. "And that's not all. In a few days, when the doctors clear you to leave, you aren't coming back to our old apartment."

"Where am I going?"

"You're coming to live with us," I said. "He has a big place downtown. His housekeeper, Martha, already prepared a room for you in the east wing. It gets all the morning sunlight, and there's plenty of space for your recovery equipment. We're going to take care of you together."

Chloe looked down at her hands, her lower lip trembling slightly. "Are you happy, El? Is he nice to you?"

I reached out, gently lifting her chin so she had to look me in the eyes. "I'm safe, Chloe. You're safe. Everything is going to be completely fine from now on. I promise you."

She wiped a tiny tear from her cheek and gave me a small, shy smile. "I want to meet him."

"You will," I smiled, kissing her forehead. "As soon as you're home."

Three days later, the hospital finally gave the discharge order.

Maya arrived at the hospital lobby at ten in the morning, wearing her usual bright yellow cardigan and carrying a giant pink 'Get Well Soon' balloon that barely fit through the sliding doors.

"Alright, heavy lifting team is here!" Maya announced, marching into the room and setting the balloon by the foot of the bed. She looked at Chloe with wide, happy eyes. "Look at you! You actually have cheeks again!"

"Thanks, Maya," Chloe giggled from the wheelchair the nurse had provided. "I feel a lot better."

"Good, because your sister has been acting super secretive for the past three days," Maya said, throwing me a sharp, suspicious look over her shoulder. "She wouldn't even let me come over to help pack your stuff."

"I told you, Maya, the driver handled the boxes," I said smoothly, wheeling Chloe toward the door while holding her IV stand.

"Yeah, about that driver," Maya said, walking beside us down the hallway toward the exit. "A sleek black SUV with tinted windows pulled up to the hospital curb just as I walked in. The guy in the suit looks like an secret agent."

"That's Thomas," I said, trying not to look flustered as we reached the automatic glass doors of the lobby. "He's taking us home."

"Home?" Maya repeated, stopping on the sidewalk. "Elena, you still haven't given me your new address. You just dropped a pin on my phone that points to Upper Manhattan."

Thomas stepped out of the driver's seat, smartly dressed in his dark suit, and immediately opened the rear passenger door. He gave Chloe a polite nod. "Good morning, Miss Chloe. Careful with your step."

Maya’s mouth hung open slightly as Thomas gently helped Chloe slide into the wide, leather-padded backseat.

"Get in, Maya," I said with a small sigh, gesturing to the open door. "You can come see the place."

"You think?" Maya muttered, sliding in next to Chloe. "I'm not leaving until I get some answers."

The ride up town took twenty minutes. Maya spent the entire time staring out the window, then looking at the polished wood trim inside the car, then glaring at me with a million unasked questions burning in her eyes.

When the car finally pulled up to the gated entrance of the high-rise tower, the security guard waved us through instantly. Thomas parked in the private underground garage and led us straight to a private elevator keycard reader.

*Ding.*

The doors opened directly into the penthouse foyer.

Maya stepped out of the elevator and froze. Her eyes went from the soaring ceiling to the floor-to-ceiling glass windows overlooking Central Park, then to the gray marble floors, and finally to the massive artwork hanging on the main wall.

"Elena..." Maya whispered, her voice echoing slightly in the vast space. "What... where are we? Is this a hotel?"

"No," Chloe said, her eyes wide as she looked around from her wheelchair. "Elena, is this...?"

"Welcome home, child!" Martha’s warm voice called out as she came around the corner from the kitchen, wearing her usual clean apron. She immediately walked over to Chloe, bending down with a gentle smile. "You must be Chloe. Oh, it is so wonderful to finally meet you. I'm Martha."

"Hi," Chloe said shyly. "This place is... giant."

"It certainly is," Martha chuckled. "Come, let's get you into your room. I've got fresh sheets on the bed and some warm chicken broth waiting on the nightstand."

Martha gently took the handles of Chloe’s wheelchair, guiding her down the wide hallway toward the east wing. Chloe looked back at me once, her face filled with absolute wonder, before letting Martha take her away.

That left Maya and me standing alone in the massive living room.

Maya turned around slowly, taking in the sheer luxury of the penthouse. Then she turned her head toward me, crossing her arms over her yellow cardigan.

"Elena Golding," Maya said, her voice dropping into a low, dead-serious tone. "Who owns this place?"

"Maya—"

"No, don't 'Maya' me," she said, stepping closer. "Three days ago you were packing three cardboard boxes in a cramped apartment, worrying about rent. Today, a chauffeur drives us to a private penthouse that costs more than my entire family makes in ten years. What is going on?"

I swallowed hard, looking toward the hallway to make sure Chloe and Martha were out of earshot. The weight of the NDA sat heavy in my mind, but looking at my best friend’s frantic, worried face made my chest ache.

"I can't explain everything right now," I said softly, stepping closer and grabbing both of her hands. "I swear to you, I'm not in trouble. I'm safe, and Chloe is safe."

"Then whose house is this?!" Maya demanded in a hushed whisper.

"It belongs to... my husband," I said quietly.

Maya blinked. Once. Twice.

"Your *what*?" she squeaked, her voice going two octaves higher.

"My husband," I repeated, holding my hand up before she could scream. "Look, Maya, I know how crazy this sounds. I know I owe you a massive explanation, but I can't do it here right now. Please."

Maya stared at me, her eyes practically bulging out of her head. She looked at the expensive furniture, then back at my face, searching for any sign that I had lost my mind.

"Tomorrow," I pleaded softly. "Let me get Chloe settled in today. Tomorrow morning, let's meet at the little coffee shop near the office. Just the two of us. I'll explain as much as I can over a cup of coffee. Please, Maya. Trust me."

Maya stood silent for a long moment, her chest rising and falling as she processed the shock. Finally, she let out a long, dramatic breath and threw her hands up.

"Coffee," Maya said firmly, pointing a finger at my face. "Tomorrow morning. Eight o'clock sharp. And you better order the biggest pastry on the menu, Elena, because you are going to tell me *everything*."

"Eight o'clock," I promised, letting out a small, relieved laugh. "I promise."