BREATHE: A Billionaire Romance, Part Four (2 page)

It wasn’t until I awoke that I even realized that I had drifted off to complete sleep. I looked over at Derek’s still sleeping form and groaned.

It was strange that Derek was quiet. Although normally I probably would have thanked my lucky stars that he had finally shut up, it wasn’t the way that I currently felt. If it hadn’t been such a terrible situation, I would have been grateful…. but I couldn’t be grateful for it at a time like this. It was horrible in a time like this. In this case, I wanted him to wake up; I wanted him to talk; I wanted more than anything for him to be his same ol’ annoying self.

“Why wasn’t I notified?” I heard a familiar voice bellow behind the curtain, off in the distance.

My brows furrowed in confusion and curiosity. I shifted my chair over to the side, and craned my neck to see if I could place the mystery voice. However, I couldn’t see. The curtain was almost completely closed, and the small crack of space that existed did nothing for my view. I sighed, pulled myself up off the chair, and walked towards the curtain, hoping that I wouldn’t be yelled at for exploring.

I grabbed a handful of the curtain and pulled it aside an inch or so, just enough so that I could glance out and see what was going on.

And then I saw him.

He was dressed in jeans and a polo, with tennis shoes on, and his hair was a mess. But it was him. He didn’t have that same fake smile, and his eyes were tired from exhaustion… so he did look a bit different. But it was him. It was Dr. Freeman. It was Derek’s doctor and stepbrother.

“It was an emergency case, Dr. Freeman,” the doctor on duty sighed.

“This is my patient!” he yelled in a whisper that was loud enough for anyone listening to hear quite clearly.

“I am aware of that, but he came in, and we had to check him out before you got here.  There wasn’t any time to wait on you, your patient or not.” He crossed his arms, and matter-of-factly looked at Dr. Freeman.

I smirked.

I liked this guy.

“There are inconsistencies in his medical history and what we found, so we did want to run a few more tests,” the man continued, glancing through the folder he gripped tightly in his hand.

My brows furrowed once again, and I wondered what the inconsistencies were.

“I’ll take over from here,” Dr. Freeman interrupted, snapping the files from the emergency room doctor’s hand. “Thank you, Dr. Lawrence.”

He wasn’t really thanking him. His tone was off; he was being condescending, as if Dr. Lawrence wasn’t competent enough to look after
his
patient. And in all honesty, if it had been anyone other than Dr. Freeman’s cocky ass, I might have believed it was because he was truly worried for Derek.

But I doubted that was the case.

I could tell Dr. Lawrence was hesitant to hand the file over. But with a sigh, and a worried look, he did so.

I couldn’t understand why Dr. Freeman seemed so incredibly irate, but when I saw him turn on his heel and head towards our curtained area, I jumped, closed the open space and hurriedly raced back to my chair.

It was only a moment or two later that he actually flung the curtain open and bust in, his face red. He was clearly angry.

“Why didn’t you call me?!” he seethed, his face as red as blood. “You could have called me on the way, and I could have been here! And then I wouldn’t have to clean up after another doctor!”

He was clearly disregarding Dr. Lawrence’s abilities.

“He seemed perfectly capable to me,” I shot, displeased with his unprofessional attitude.

“But I’m his doctor. Not him.” He was direct, and I could tell that he was upset.

“You sound like a fucking baby!” I shouted, not caring how ridiculously rude I sounded. I was fueled; and I jumped from my chair in rage. “He’s laying here unconscious, and all you want to do is whine about how he’s your patient. You’re a fucking moron!”

I didn’t care.

I did not like him before, but now, I really didn’t like him. He just made it so much worse, but I could tell he didn’t care.

And likely awaking from sounds of our outbursts, Derek began to stir. My head snapped to look at him. His movements were slow, and he sighed with every one of them.

“You need to leave,” Dr. Freeman said, looking at me as he made his way towards Derek with his stethoscope.

“No,” Derek said and sighed, extending a weak hand out to me. I felt my heart leap for joy. He was asking me not to leave.

“She needs to go for now, Derek,” Dr. Freeman reiterated sweetly to him in a calming tone. I rolled my eyes. I couldn’t believe that he was going to pretend to be sweet now.

“She isn’t leaving!” Derek shot, as if he wasn’t even remotely fatigued at all.

“I’m your doctor. Listen to me,” Dr. Freeman demanded, slapping his stethoscope in his ear.

But Derek didn’t care what he said, or what he was doing for that matter. Because angrily, and with more energy than I thought he even possessed, he grabbed Dr. Freeman’s stethoscope from his ear and looked at him, danger in his eyes before whispering a single “No.”

“Derek—” Dr. Freeman began again, but Derek held his hand up to interrupt him.

I could do nothing but remain frozen in my spot, and watch as it all unfolded.

To say that I was entertained would be an understatement, but all the while, I was also worried.

“Don’t exert too much energy, Derek,” I called out to him, but he ignored me.

“I don’t give a damn if you’re my doctor or not,” he said. “I will find myself a new doctor; one that cares about giving me what’s best for me.”

And I shuddered at how intimidating he was, despite being so weak… and so incredibly frail.

With a nod, Dr. Freeman turned to me, pulled his stethoscope back down, and wrapped it around his neck. He sighed and angrily grumbled, just beneath his breath, as he rose up and walked from the makeshift room.

I huffed an exasperated breath. It had been a long night; and it was about to be even longer as memories of the evening’s events ran through my mind. Sides of my brain kept fighting with one another until I looked down and saw him looking at me curiously and with concern.

“Are you okay?” he whispered faintly, as I took a seat in the chair beside the bed.

My heart thudded and lumped in my throat. How could he had been thinking about me?

I leaned forward, smiling widely and rubbed his forearm. “I’m okay.” My tone was calm, probably for the first time that night, but words couldn’t describe how incredibly happy I was to be looking at him, talking to him, have him smiling up at me. No matter how faint or how weak he was, he was functioning. And not only functioning, but he was being Derek.

“You gave me a scare,” I said with a sigh.

His hand slipped into mine and gripped me firmly, startling me from my thoughts. My eyes shot open, and I gazed into his gorgeous orbs, feeling more blessed than I ever had before that he was still with me.

“I…l-love…y-you,” he whispered weakly, giving me the best sideways smile that he could muster.

I felt a large lump form once again in my throat. My heart panged against my chest, and my stomach jolted and lurched with whirling emotion. I loved that man more than I ever dreamed possible, and to hear him say that, after what he had just gone through, I knew that he felt the same way about me.

I felt it after his weak whispering declaration more than I ever had before.

My mind wandered back to something I had blocked out upon entering the hospital. It occurred when the doctors had finally let me in to see him, after what seemed like decades after he had been rushed back.

It had taken everything in me not to freak out more than I already had been. There was still traces of blood and vomit, and all there was, was a very unconscious Derek. It was a miracle he was still alive—at least to me, it seemed that way. And I could do nothing more than thank my lucky stars that that was the case.

There must have been something about him, after all. His childhood tenacity must have lingered around after all; it must have aided in giving him the will to continue on, fight harder and longer to see a new day of adventure, of exploration, and of success.

I just hoped, more than anything, that his will would somehow find the light at the end of the tunnel from all of this. I hoped he would survive it, no matter how far the light seemed, no matter how much it didn’t seem to exist.

And I knew as soon as I began to hope for it, that it was such a foolish wish.

People died.

Life wasn’t a fairytale.

And cancer didn’t give a damn who it took.

But somehow, I still found a piece of me holding onto some sort of hope that something like this would never happen again… and that he’d be better just like he was a majority of the time. Only he’d be better
all
the time. He’d be cured.

I had to think that the willpower he held was strong enough for anything. I wanted to have faith in that, despite knowing that logically having hope was useless.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, bringing me back to the present. I hated that I hadn’t already been in the present; I knew that I should have been there with him; I knew that I should have taken advantage of every moment I had with him. I wanted desperately for him to be alive and well in the future, but who even knew if there would be much more of a future.

I had to live in the present.

A tear fell from the brim of my eye as I nodded and looked at him once again. I sighed, taking the sight of him as well as our surroundings.

The hospital room was depressing—white and cold, quiet yet loud. I could hear footsteps all around, and machines clicking and beeping beside me. Yet, it was painfully quiet.

And I hated more than anything to look at such a beautiful god of a man and see him there, pale white and weak. Derek Sholts was the epitome of strength and intimidation. But yet, there he was, broken… on a hospital bed, barely conscious.

I felt him shiver beside me and immediately, in an instinctive impulse, I snapped out of my thoughts once again and looked directly at him.

“Are you cold?” I asked, hurriedly, concern caked all in my voice.

He nodded a bit, but then I watched as his eyes fluttered shut, clearly too weak and tired to stay awake for any longer than he already had.

I stood and walked towards the large wooden door, which had remained half-closed to see if I could find someone. I looked through the opened part of the door, cocking my head around the corner, hoping that I might find a doctor or nurse.

But there was no one in sight.

No one except for Dr. Freeman.

He stood just outside, his back half turned, as if standing guard, and I cringed as I watched him just stand there. He looked unnerved, completely composed with his jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed, looking straight out and into the hallway. In all honesty, I couldn’t help but wonder if he even really gave a damn about Derek; and not only that, but his lack of worry and lack of compassion worried me. It made me wonder what kind of person he really was; and if he really
was
hiding something.

I looked back over my shoulder to see if he was still shivering, but he had fallen into another deep slumber. I sighed; I hated that he was asleep already. I wanted just a little longer with him; and immediately I cursed myself for drifting in and out of thoughts while he
was
awake.

I watched him as he slept and noticed his breaths were labored and slow—much more than usual as he slept.

Without thinking anymore, my body shifted back towards the bed. I kneeled beside him and intertwined my fingers with the hair that fell just at his neckline. Leaning in, I kissed him softly on the lips. I kissed him softly, but more passionately than I think I ever had…not because there were dueling tongues or lustful fervor, but because all of my emotions, my fears, my love, my compassion, and my pity—it all poured out of me and into him.

And for just a moment, I felt him return the kiss…

And that was all I needed.

Just that one tiny moment…to know that he was still very much there. And that—at least for now—it would all be okay.

“This just all sucks so much, Polly.” I was crying, my knees drawn to my chest as we sat on the couch with the dog curled just beside me.

I was worried about him, and I didn’t want to leave the hospital for even just a moment. But I had to. I hadn’t had a shower; I hadn’t eaten a proper meal; and I hadn’t slept properly. I needed to go home—if only for just a few hours to refuel.

I knew that I wasn’t going to do either of us any good if I didn’t take care of myself.

I had to be there for him; and to be there for him, I had to be strong for him.

“Honey, don’t focus on the negative.” Polly sighed. “He’s doing okay, though, right?”

I nodded, sadly. It didn’t feel like he was doing well when he was barely conscious; and when he was, it was for a short amount of time.

That didn’t seem fine to me.

It didn’t seem fine to me for someone to be found unbreathing, in their apartment, vomit and blood present…

That didn’t seem fine to me.

But just as I was about to voice my displeasure even more, a knock at the door sounded.

“Will you get it?” I groaned. I didn’t want to see anyone.

“What if it’s a burglar?” she asked, in perfect ridiculous fashion.

“Burglars don’t knock, Pols.”

“Oh, right….” she laughed. “Well, I don’t want to get it. Can you get it instead?” She puckered her lips, pouting them.

Glad to see that she didn’t sympathize for me enough to get the door. I groaned and pushed myself up off the couch, frustrated at my roommate and supposed best friend.

I trekked across the living room, grabbed the doorknob, and pulled the door open without even bothering to look through the peephole.

But on the other side of the door was someone that I hadn’t expected to see in a million years.

It was a short, curvy, and grey-haired version of me.

She was looking at me, worry all across her face, with bags in hand.

My Mama….

I sighed, feeling tears well up in my eyes almost immediately, not believing that she was actually there. Her eyes were glistening with sadness as she looked at me. “Mama…” I whispered, my voice breaking, as my composure fell like loose stone to the floor below. She shook her head, breaking into tears herself, just before she pulled me into a strong, enveloping hug. And I knew; I knew she had been brought up to speed.

“Do you want a hug?” she asked, her voice quivering as her arms tightened around me.

I nodded, tears flowing from my eyes, burning. “You already are hugging me, Mama…” I gasped, laughing a bit.

“I missed you,” she said sweetly, causing me to break down as I hugged her even tighter.

I felt her warmth bubble up, surround me, and fill me from the inside.

She held me close and we both cried—directly in the door way of my apartment—until we felt like stopping…

And that wasn’t for a while.

“I just don’t understand why this all keeps happening!” I cried into her shoulder, and I felt her grip me even tighter. I inhaled shallow breaths, hardly unable to breathe, and immediately was reminded how much my mama smelled like home.  She smelled like apple pie mixed with some sort of wonderful citrus scent; and somehow it calmed me. It made my breathing somehow become more natural, and it even caused my tears to soften.

“I mean, I don’t think I deserve this, Mama….” I sighed, messily sobbing on her beautiful teal blouse.

“No one deserves this, Zoe,” she corrected. “Life isn’t fair; and some people get dealt worse hands than others—but everyone gets a bad hand every now and then.”

“But this is a really bad hand!” I defended, pulling away.

She could do nothing but sigh in response. I was right, and she knew that…she knew that everything that had happened in the past in combination with what was currently happening was enough to break me down and wear me down to frail bone.

“It just feels like someone has it out for us,” I whispered.

“Nah,” she breathed, clearly trying her best not to tear up again. “We’re not special enough for anybody to have it out for us, honey.”

She smiled at me. And there was something about her smile that always made me feel a little better. She wasn’t taking anything lightly…far from it.

But she was smiling at me, hoping that it might—somehow—ease my spirits, if only for a moment.

“I hope you’re right, Mama,” I sighed. “I just can’t help but feel that there’s too many hurdles for us.”

“So, how is he?” she asked. “How is Derek?” It was strange hearing her ask about him, especially when I had hardly told her anything about Derek at all.

“He’s not in as much pain, and he’s recovering—what seems to be—well.”

“Well then, there ya go!” she perked up, pulling away from me, patting me on the shoulder. She was smiling, trying to reassure me. If she had been anyone else, I might have been offended by the positivity. I mean, let me mope for a minute, will ya? But I wasn’t offended with Mama. I was never offended when it came to Mama. She did everything she did for a reason; and that reason was usually because it was what was best for me. She was trying to perk me up, keep me positive.

“Wait,” I said, still not completely understanding. “What are you doing here, anyway?!”

“Polly said you needed me, so here I am!” she smiled at me once again, only this time, it was a little more genuine, a little more real. This time, it was a little more than just making me feel better. It was genuine happiness to see me, no matter the circumstance. “Oh, and I brought Laura.”

She glanced behind her as we moved completely over the threshold and into my apartment more fully. When I followed her gaze, I saw my sister, Laura appear from around the corner.

“My goodness! That was awkward watching y’all hug for years!” she yelled, walking past us.

I beamed at my sister. I hadn’t seen her in what felt like decades.

I grabbed her and pulled her into a desperate hug.

“Okay, we don’t need a repeat of your year-long embrace with Mama!” she yelled, pushing me away in Laura-fashion. She was a touch-me-not. Always had been.

“I’m just glad you’re here!” I cried, tears falling once again.

“Well, you won’t be so glad when you find out that the hubby came with.” And she was right. I wasn’t. I likely visibly cringed.

Her husband was a douchebag, an electrical engineer, who made a lot of money and was incredibly intelligent. However, like all smart, well-off men, he had a bit of an attitude and a level of cockiness that I just couldn’t wrap my head around.

But then I smirked.

Derek was that exact same way…and yet, I fell in love with him.

So could I really still fault Laura? Could I really still think she was settling?

“Where are y’all staying?” Polly asked from the couch, clearly indicating that we didn’t have enough room to accommodate everyone.

I smiled.

“We’re staying at a hotel, and Mama is staying here with you guys…” Laura laughed.

“Thank God…!”  Polly sighed in relief.

“Let me help you with your bags, Mama,” I said, reaching out for the suitcases she held.  “How long are you guys staying?”

“As long as you need me,” she said matter-of-factly, grabbing some of her bags herself.

“I’ll be staying for a week, but then we have to get back—not that you were asking me,” Laura said, feigning offense.

I rolled my eyes, and rather than indulge her, I gestured for her to sit on the couch with Polly while I helped Mama with her bags.

As we gathered everything up and walked to my bedroom, I heard her whisper just over her breath so that I could hear.

“How are you…?” she asked and immediately my brows twisted in confusion.

“I told you how I was.”

“No. You told me how Derek was, and you are clearly upset, but I mean with everything.” We reached my room with the bags, and I watched as she made her way to sit on the bed. She looked at me just before patting the area just beside her, wanting me to have a seat.

I sighed.

I knew what she wanted to talk about…

“First your dad; then your boyfriend,” she said and sighed with sadness. “You have to be feeling something. So spill….”

A tear burned the brim of my eye once again. I felt my breath hitch and my defenses fall—as they usually did with her. And I could do nothing more than give a silent word of thanks to the universe that my mama was there. I fell into her, breathing heavily, the tears coming forth full-force with a burdening pain like none I had ever experienced.

I hated cancer; and I hated that I knew it so well…

“I just can’t believe I fell for someone with cancer after Daddy,” I sobbed, thankful that she was there to hold me as I did.

It didn’t matter that I’d have to stay in the living room. It didn’t matter if she brought up a painful memory. All that mattered was that she was there. And that she was holding onto me tightly, and that she’d never let go.