My Ex-Wife is a Multi-Billionaire!

EPISODE 2

KEITH

My life just ended.

The sound of breaking glass, of a high pitched sound that wouldn't stop ringing in my ears, of debilitating pain wracking my entire body was the last thing I heard and saw before the final, blissful feeling of losing my grip on consciousness.

The last thought that went through my mind was that dying was so painful. It was an unpleasant experience, and I never wanted to go through it again.

Of course, I died immediately after the thought crossed my mind.

Or so I thought.

Dying was supposed to be like quenching the fire on a candle. A gust of air, and whoosh, the fire would be gone, vanquished forever.

I expected to feel that way. To go from existing one time and just stop…existing.

But even after feeling the distinct passing of my life, a very tiny, small part of me remained.

It floated in a realm of nothing, lost in what seemed to be an endless night. I felt weird. Like I was there and not there at the same time.

Then, like the spark in a lighter coaxing the candle back to life, I felt a very tiny spark of awareness somewhere from my body.

Slowly, very slowly, my consciousness came back to me in little bursts.

My senses, which had been asleep before, was awaken by the slow but steady pounding of my heartbeat.

I started to feel, life returning to my limbs. My senses opened up.

The caress of cool air on my body, the very faint but noticeable hum — beep — of a machine, the sound of my heart racing.

I saw and heard these things, indicating that I wasn't as dead as I had originally thought I was.

My fingers flexed on their own accord, and the action sent a bolt of pain through me.

The pain faded into the background after a long, excruciating moment, giving me time to breathe. It settled into my bones, bringing my awareness to the rest of my body.

I was in pain all over.

Very slowly, my eyes drifted open. The beep of the machine grew louder. I tried to look around, but my head was spinning and my vision was blurry.

Judging from the lines that ran in and out of my body, connected to various machines, it wasn't hard to know where I was.

A hospital.

Before I could fully wrap my mind around the circumstances that brought me here though, the door opened and a man in scrubs — possibly a doctor — stepped in.

He walked over to me, relieved to see that I was awake.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” I responded hoarsely, my throat locking up with pain.

The man proceeded to check my vitals and write down some notes in the clipper he held. I wanted to speak, but my eyes was watering from pain and I could not push the words out.

The doctor seemed to notice though. He dropped writing and held my gaze, and there seemed to be a little bit of pity in his eyes.

“Mr. Keith. You should not strain any part of your body. Don't try to talk either. I'll give you a summary of why you're here.”

My heart stilled as I waited for him to speak. The man sighed and looked away for a second before looking back at me.

“You got into an accident, and we had to perform a surgery on you. I am very sorry to inform you about this though, but despite our best efforts, we weren't able to revive all your limbs.”

Panic started to simmer beneath my skin. What was that supposed to mean?

Before I could ask any questions, he went on.

You were brought here by a lady. Apparently, you got involved in a hit and run, and if the woman who brought you here hadn't been driving past that particular time, you would have died on the spot.”

My head started to spin.

A hit and run.

How could…what…who?

My thoughts were scattered, my mind too broken to piece a coherent sentence together.

Panic began to crawl up my chest. This can't be real. It had to be an accident.

Or maybe a mix up. Because there was no way I got into an accident on what was supposed to be the biggest night of my life.

What would become of me now?

My head was spinning, my thoughts going out of control as intrusive thoughts bombarded me from all over.

“Hey. Mr. Keith, I am going to need you to calm down, please,” the doctor's voice floated back into my ears, and it grounded me a little.

I blinked, pushing back the helplessness that was slamming into me in tidal waves.

“Where…Is my family here?” I croaked. Just the act of talking made me feel like was entire body was on fire, but I needed to know.

The doctor's expression became unreadable, but it was easy to see the discomfort, the angst and sympathy on his face.

He said nothing for a while, and I could hear my heart trying to pound itself out of my chest.

“Doctor?” I called out to him.

Finally, he shook his head.

“I am sorry, Mr. Keith, but no one is here for you. There's no family members, acquaintances or even friends. You're here…on your own.”

If someone had told me that there was something that could demoralise me again after finding out I was the victim of a hit and run, I would not have believed.

But here it was, happening to me.

Nobody was here for me. Nobody. Not even my sister.

Surely, they had to had known that something had happened to me?

How could they not care?

The thought made me feel as if someone had placed a boulder on my lungs.

Everywhere burned physically, but the mental pain tearing through me was the worse.

“How long have I been here?”

The doctor checked his clipboard before he responded.

“A month. We performed surgery on you immediately you were brought in, but you remained in a coma. Luckily for you, the woman who brought you here paid for all your medical expenses. She signed the form as your guardian and accepted to take responsibilities if you didn't survive the surgery. But luckily for everyone involved, you did.”

A woman.

A stranger who was not a part of my family but had stayed by me regardless. It was rare, almost unheard of, to see someone doing something like that for a victim they didn't know.

Or perhaps, she was someone I knew.

“Do you know who she is?” I asked.

The man shook his head sadly. “Unfortunately, she wanted to remain anonymous.”

My head was reeling with all the information that just got dumped on me.

The doctor held my gaze.

“There is one more thing I need to tell you. There was a complication during surgery. And, well… you'll never be able to walk again.”