chapter 15

Vivienne’s POV

When I opened my eyes, darkness surrounded me.

For a moment, I could not understand where I was. My mind felt blank, drifting somewhere between confusion and exhaustion.

Then the sharp scent of disinfectant filled my lungs.

Memory returned all at once.

The fall. The pain. The hospital.

My body felt heavy, as if it did not belong to me anymore. A dull ache pulsed through my ankle, slow and persistent.

I blinked and adjusted to the dim light in the room. Machines beside the bed emitted soft, steady sounds that made the silence feel even deeper.

“Vivienne.”

His voice broke through the quiet.

I turned my head and saw Alexander standing at the foot of the bed, watching me. His expression was calm, but there was fatigue in his eyes, something restrained beneath the surface.

Instinctively, my hand moved to my abdomen.

Fear rose before I could stop it.

I pressed lightly, as if that alone could confirm everything was still intact. My chest tightened, but I forced my face to remain composed.

“I’m fine,” I said softly, even though I was not.

My gaze shifted toward the window. Darkness stretched beyond the glass. I had been unconscious for hours.

Then, without warning, my stomach growled loudly.

The sound felt absurd in the quiet room. Heat rushed to my face, but hunger quickly replaced embarrassment.

Alexander noticed immediately.

“I’ll get you something to eat,” he said.

Delivery would take too long, and more importantly, I needed him out of the room. Even a few minutes alone would be enough.

“Can you buy something instead?” I asked, keeping my voice soft and slightly weak.

He looked at me for a moment, as if noticing the change in my tone, then nodded.

“Stay in bed. Call the nurse if you need anything.”

I watched him leave.

The moment the door closed, the room felt empty.

I pressed the call button without hesitation.

The nurse arrived quickly.

“My baby…” My voice dropped to a whisper, urgency slipping through despite my effort to stay calm.

She smiled gently, reassuring.

“The baby is safe.”

The words settled into me slowly, then all at once.

Relief flooded through my chest so suddenly it almost hurt.

“But the pregnancy is unstable,” she continued. “You need to rest and avoid stress.”

I nodded, gripping the blanket lightly.

“My ankle?”

“A sprain. You’ll need to stay off it for a few days.”

She explained that they avoided strong medication because of the pregnancy and only applied ointment. I listened carefully, memorizing every detail.

“Thank you,” I said quietly, meaning it more than anything.

After she left, I lay back against the pillow, finally allowing myself to breathe.

The baby was safe.

That was enough.

Alexander returned not long after, carrying food from the hospital cafeteria.

He placed everything neatly on the table beside me.

Rice. Soup. Vegetables. Meat. Fruit. Milk.

It was simple, but carefully chosen.

I ate slowly at first, then steadily, hunger taking over.

“You should go home and rest,” I said between bites. “You can come tomorrow. Or send James.”

He refused immediately.

“You’re injured. It’s not convenient for you to be alone.”

His tone was firm, leaving no room for argument.

“I already asked James to bring my clothes.”

A small warmth spread through me despite myself.

Before I could say anything else, his phone rang.

He glanced at the screen and stepped outside to answer.

I heard her name.

Isabella.

My fingers tightened slightly around the spoon.

His voice faded as he moved further away, but when he returned, I did not need to hear anything more. His expression said everything.

“I need to go,” he said. “Isabella isn’t feeling well.”

The warmth inside me disappeared instantly.

“James and Maggie will come.”

He did not wait for my response.

He left.

I watched the door long after it closed, a faint, bitter smile forming on my lips.

Of course.

That night, James and Maggie stayed with me.

The next morning, after the doctor changed my dressings, they took me home.

Alexander did not come.

I kept my gaze lowered during the drive, silent, but somewhere deep inside, a small, stubborn part of me still hoped he would appear.

He did not.

At Home

Because of my injury, I worked from home.

My assistant brought my laptop, and I stayed in the bedroom most of the time to avoid unnecessary movement. Maggie handled everything else.

Days passed quietly.

One afternoon, while I was focused on work, I heard the door open.

“Maggie, just leave it on the table,” I said without looking up.

“I’ll make sure you eat first.”

I froze.

That was not Maggie.

I looked up and saw Alexander standing there, holding a tray.

Surprise flickered across my face before I could hide it.

“You’re back early,” I said.

He gave a simple response and placed the tray beside me.

I ate quietly while he stayed nearby.

After I finished, he returned to collect the dishes.

Then he came back again.

This time, with a bag.

My heartbeat quickened the moment I recognized it.

The medicines.

He sat down and began taking them out one by one, examining each bottle carefully.

I forced myself to remain still.

My fingers curled slightly against the fabric of my clothes.

“Why are these unlabeled?” he asked, holding up two small white bottles.

“I changed the packaging,” I replied quickly. “The original ones were too bulky. I might need to travel.”

He seemed to accept that, though his gaze lingered for a moment longer than necessary.

“Your foot won’t heal in time for that,” he said.

Then he noticed something else.

“No anti inflammatory drugs?”

“My stomach has been sensitive,” I said. “The doctor avoided stronger medication.”

A faint trace of suspicion crossed his expression, but he did not press further.

“I’ll change your bandages,” he said.

“You don’t have to. Maggie can do it.”

He ignored me.

He sat down beside me and gently lifted my injured foot.

His hands were warm. Careful.

The old gauze came off slowly, revealing the swollen skin beneath. The ankle looked worse than I remembered, pale and strained.

He cleaned it with steady precision, applied fresh ointment, then wrapped it securely again.

Every movement was controlled, deliberate.

When he finished, he adjusted the blanket over me and placed the medicines back into the bag.

“Thank you,” I said softly.

“There’s no need.”

His tone was neutral, but not cold.

Then his phone rang again.

He checked the screen.

Isabella.

He answered immediately.

I watched him as he listened, his expression tightening slightly.

“I’ll come now,” he said.

He ended the call and stood up without hesitation.

“I need to leave.”

He was already at the door.

I watched him, that familiar heaviness settling into my chest again.

“Will you come back tonight?”

The question slipped out before I could stop it.

He paused.