UNDESERVED ROMANCE WITH MR. BILLIONAIRE のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 61 - チャプター 70

Richard’s POVI phoned Ned immediately from the back door and he picked right up after a single ring. “Hello Ned?”“Yes Richie. How are you doing? Where are you now?” he asked.“Just come for me at Evans's place, " I cut in.“Alright, boss? But before that, I think we have good news for now?”“What is it Ned?” I asked wide-eyed, expecting nothing short than Oma."She is awake.” He said excitedly.“What? She is awake?” I almost shouted.“Yes Richie. From the nursing notes, it seems she opened her eyes at 1:45 this afternoon and she is a bit fine now”I stood there, leaning against the wall, staring at the sky, and feeling anxious to see Oma. The news actually made me somehow relax inside so that I could almost ignore my aches. ‘Goodness! She is awake.’ I repeated, my own aches almost completely forgotten."I'm waiting for you,Ned" I uttered. The pain was still there, and the effects of the drug weren't completely gone, but that Oma was conscious was the main thing, everything else c

POV: RichardThe air in the room didn’t just cool; it froze. My mother stood framed in the doorway, the clinical white light of the hallway casting her silhouette in sharp, unforgiving lines. Behind her, the four men in charcoal suits moved with a synchronized efficiency that made the small hospital room feel like a cage.Oma didn’t pull her hands away from my side. I felt her fingers twitch against my blood-soaked shirt, a momentary flicker of instinctual fear before she steeled herself."Mother," I managed, the word catching on a jagged breath. My knees were still pressed into the linoleum, the pain in my side throbbing in time with the heavy tread of the bodyguards."Look at you," my mother said, her voice a low, melodic purr that carried the weight of a death sentence. She didn't look at the wound. She didn't look at the blood. She looked at me, her son, kneeling at the feet of the woman she had spent months trying to erase. "Crawling on the floor like a wounded animal for the sak

(POV: Oma)The bus ride took 3 hours. I chose a window seat, keeping my bag on my lap as I noticed the change from the house-lined areas to the city. The quiet large roads were replaced by the small streets and the well-known, busy skyline. I didn't sleep at all; even when I tried to lean my head on the glass and shut my eyes, I'd hear my dad's voice, then Richard's, and after that the sound of the hospital door closing on me.I kept looking at the road for the rest of the time heading back to the city.When we reached the last stop, the dim orange evening light was casting a shadow across the street. The bus had come to a complete halt, I had my bag on my shoulder, and I was walking towards the exit ahead of other commuters. The doors opened with a hiss. I got down on the pavement and waited. Ned was at the far end of the terminal, away from the crowd. Wearing his usual dark jacket, he was looking at the exiting passengers searching to know if I would alight then.He was holding

POV: RichardI was staring up at the ceiling when the door suddenly opened. I thought it was the nurse so I didn't bother turning my head around. Then I realized the fragrance that I had just caught.Bergamot and sandalwood. I felt nauseous.I turned around slowly and there was my enigma. It was Nora, standing in the hallway of my hospital room. She was dressed in a cream blouse and fitted trousers, her hair was down, she was holding a bunch of white roses with one hand and a paper bag with the other. She looked very collected, perfect and like she was not at all bothered by the fact that she was nowhere near here.My mother raised her head from the chair she was sitting on near the window. “Nora!” Her face immediately brightened, warm and truly happy. “Oh wow, you came?”Nora smiled. “Yes ma'am. I had to come” she said, as she came fully into the room. The roses were put down on the side table and the paper bag was left next to them. Her gaze met mine and a gentle and caring loo

POV: RichardIt has been one week now.After a week, I was able to stand on my own two feet without holding onto something. The surgeons had done two more operations after the initial one. Before, each time I came round from the anaesthesia, I felt like I had been disassembled and reassembled a little bit incorrectly. But I was standing now and walking to the bathroom on my own. Eating without feeling like it was a punishment.Dr. Evans called it Progress. I referred to it as Survival. That morning, my mother came with some flowers and a beaming smile that explained to me even before she entered the room that she had already set the tone of the visit by walking in."You are standing, " she remarked, obviously delighted. "Since Tuesday, I've been standing, counting the walls of when you will finally be on your feet."After putting the flowers on the table, she walked over to where I was sitting on the edge of the bed. She then checked me over as she had been doing since I was a kid, tr