Over with

Ashley

By the time I arrived at the hospital, I was already questioning several of my life choices.

First, the traffic. Of course, there had to be traffic. This was an urban city, after all, and apparently, the roads had collectively decided that my life wasn’t stressful enough.

Second, I was hungry.

And third, I was about to spend another eight hours in the company of a man who couldn’t even tell me to shut up if I annoyed him.

Lovely.

I took the private elevator straight to Skyler’s room, which, honestly, was an insult to the word room. Calling that place a hospital room was like calling a mansion a small house. The space was enormous, with the kind of luxurious interior you would expect from one of those ridiculously expensive countryside apartments people showed off in magazines.

Okay, I exaggerated a bit.

And this was where Skyler was chilling in his coma.

In a private apartment disguised as a hospital room.

God, money really did make life easier.

I glanced at the time as I walked in.

10:30 a.m.

Traffic had delayed me, and now I had only thirty minutes before my first cleaning routine of the day. I dropped my bag onto the sofa, walked over to Skyler’s bed, and sat down beside him.

“Hi, Skyler.”

I paused, looking at his face.

“Sorry I’m a little late today. The traffic was doing what traffic does best: wasting people’s lives. And before you ask, no, I didn’t enjoy it either.”

I waited for a response.

Nothing.

Shocking.

“Anyway, the process of making your baby has officially started.”

I blinked.

“Oh, God.”

What if there was a camera in this room?

I glanced at the ceiling, then immediately rolled my eyes at myself.

There I went again, worrying about cameras. At this rate, I was going to develop a personal relationship with every corner of this room.

But could anyone really blame me? With this family’s money, they probably had cameras monitoring the room.

And here I was, sitting beside their billionaire heir, talking like he’d been appointed my personal therapist.

But then again, who exactly was I supposed to talk to?

My best friend? Please. That position was currently vacant, and I wasn’t accepting applications.

I couldn’t exactly pour my heart out to the woman who had helped my boyfriend betray me. And I certainly couldn’t tell the people in this house everything going through my head. The cold-faced woman alone looked like she would report me to the United Nations for breathing too loudly.

So, unfortunately for me—and perhaps even more unfortunately for him—Skyler was the person who had to listen.

Lucky man.

“Anyway, unfortunately for you, the process of getting your child started has begun. I went to the fertility clinic this morning, and they gave me my first injections.“

I glanced down at my stomach.

“And, I kid you not, the injection wasn’t nearly as painful as I thought it would be. I had prepared myself for a whole dramatic scene. I was ready to be brave, suffer, and possibly write my will. Only for it to be over before I could properly complain.”

I shook my head.

“All that anxiety for nothing. Honestly, my body should be paying me for the unnecessary stress it puts me through.”

My smile faded a little as I looked back at Skyler.

“But seriously, I don’t think I thought this whole thing through properly. I mean, I knew what I was signing up for, but knowing something and actually experiencing it are two very different things.”

I rubbed my palms against my thighs.

“Then again, what choice did I have? Everything with my brother…”

I stopped.

“No. Nope. We’re not doing that today.”

I pointed a finger at Skyler, even though he couldn’t see it.

“We’re not going to start crying before noon. I have standards, Mr. Tylan.”

I took a breath and settled back in my seat.

“But there’s something else I need to complain about, and since you’re the only person available, congratulations. You’ve been selected for this very important role.”

I cleared my throat dramatically.

“Your family and staff.”

I stared at him for a moment, gathering my thoughts.

“Now, I know I agreed to this arrangement. I know I accepted fifty million dollars, and I know this isn’t some little part-time job where I get to stroll in whenever I want, drink coffee, and leave when I feel like it. I understand that I’m expected to work for my money.”

I leaned forward slightly.

“But can everybody please remember that I’m a human being?”

I spread my hands.

“Because, hello? Why is everybody treating me like I’m some unwanted package that was delivered to the wrong address?”

I thought about the cold-faced woman and immediately felt my blood pressure rise.

“And that woman! God, that woman. She’s not exactly rude, but she’s so cold and unempathetic that sometimes I wonder whether she was assembled in a laboratory without the emotional component.”

I pressed my lips together, fighting a laugh at my own description.

“No, seriously. Is smiling against her religion? Does she lose money every time she says something nicely? Because I would genuinely like to understand the situation.”

I shook my head.

“Meanwhile, I met Dr. Bennett today, and that man is an absolute sweetheart. When I went for the initial tests, I met another female doctor, and she was so cold. She kept asking saying didn’t I know why I was there”

I rolled my eyes at the memory.

“Like, yes, ma’am. I know why I’m here. I’m not on a sightseeing tour. You don’t have to remind me that my life has taken a very interesting turn.”

I sighed.

“But Dr. Bennett was different. He was warm and patient, and he actually explained things to me without making me feel like an idiot for asking questions. Considering everything I’ve been through lately, that little bit of kindness was so welcome. You have no idea.”

I looked at Skyler again.

“Well, technically, you have no idea about anything right now. You’re in a coma. But you get the point.”

I gave him a small, sympathetic smile.

“And the nurse?.”

My face brightened.

“Now, that is someone I appreciate. I love sassy people. I am a very sassy person myself, and I firmly believe sarcasm is a perfectly valid form of communication. Some people just don’t appreciate the finer things in life.”

I nodded as if I had made an important philosophical discovery.

“Anyway, the nurse and I might get along very well. We shall see.”

By the time I finished ranting about the staff, I realised I had spent a considerable amount of time talking.

Again.

Honestly, if talking were an Olympic sport, I would have been representing my country by now. I would have been bringing home gold medals and giving interviews about how I had achieved greatness through the simple act of refusing to shut up.

I glanced at the clock.

It was almost eleven.

“Oh, wow. Look at that. I’ve been here for barely thirty minutes, and I’ve already given you a full report on my life.”

I stood up and stretched.

“You’re welcome, by the way.”

Then I glanced at his still form and sobered slightly.

“Okay, let’s get this over with.”