CHAPTER FIVE
1135 Words
“Doctor, how is she doing?” Damien asked with both concern and frustration written on his face.
“Well, Miss Kingston is a very strong woman; she has fought like a warrior…”
“But?” Damien quickly interjected
“But she suffered a severe traumatic brain injury,” the doctor stated, his voice calm but firm. A DAI causing serious damage to her brain connection. She’s been in a coma for weeks now, although she’s out of harm’s way now, we can’t say when she’s likely to wake up ....” he heaved and adjusted his glass.
“There is a high chance of retrograde amnesia. She might not remember recent events, possibly even her own identity.”
Damien stood stiff, his fingers curling into his palm. A low hum from the machines filled the silence between them, but his mind roared.
“Are you saying she’ll lose all her memories?” His voice was edged with something raw, something dangerous.
The doctor gave a dignified nod “She may recall bits and pieces, but the most recent memories. The events leading to what happened to her could be wiped out. And Mr chase…” he looked at him intently.
“When she wakes up, she can’t be under any stress. Pushing her to remember too soon could cause severe psychological distress or worsen the damage.”
Damien ruffled his hair with a frustrated sweep of his hand, the strands falling messily over his forehead. While he put his other hand into his Tom Ford trousers, his eyes fixed on the motionless body of Lily.
The woman he had spent years loving.
This woman had vanished without a single trace only to resurface in a hospital bed oblivious of what had happened to her.
And Elle was running
It wasn’t a coincidence.
“Move her,” he said in a commanding tone.
The doctor hesitated. “Move her?”
“You heard me move her to a private facility. Somewhere secure. I want the best neurologist monitoring her round the clock.” He turned, the sharp cut of his black Brioni blazer emphasizing the rigid tension in his shoulders.
“Make the arrangements. Now.”
The doctor tried to talk, but seeing the determination on Damien's face showed there was no room for negotiation.
Damien exhaled, he rolled up his sleeve like he always does each time he was eager about something.
He pulled out his phone from his pocket. He looked at his reflection on the glossy surface of the screen, barely recognizable as the stress and frustration he’d been through for the past weeks were now visible, dark eyes, and every line of his face were carved out with tension.
* * * * * *
Damien is sitting in the hallway outside Lily's hospital room, he is lost in thought.
“It should have been me.”
The weight of those words hit a muscle in Damien, his jaw ticked, his breath becoming slow and controlled, but the words pressed down on him like an iron cage.
The hallway was oddly quiet, except for the murmur of medical staff and the steady hum of the electric bulb. The air smelled dry, cold like antiseptic, and something else he couldn't name. Grief or maybe failure.
He couldn't bring himself to stay inside anymore.
Not yet.
He had already seen her once motionless, fragile, attached to a machine that kept her breathing.
The image was plastered into his mind, a brutal reminder that he hadn’t been there when it mattered the most.
He had failed her.
He had spent years mastering control over himself, his empire, and every aspect of his life.
Yet the one person who should have been his top priority had been attacked, and left for dead, and he hadn't seen it coming.
What kind of man did that make him?
One who didn't deserve a second chance.
But he was here now. And whoever did this? They would regret it.
A sharp voice cut through his thoughts.
“Mr Chase?”
He turned his head slightly to see the doctor advancing toward him with a team of paramedics behind him.
“We are ready for the transfer now.”
Damien’s gaze fell on the stretcher being rolled out of the room, his heartbeat rising the moment he saw Lily, still unmoving, still pale, and still quiet.
The sight sent a fresh dose of anger boiling inside him.
“I’m going with her,” he said flatly.
The doctor hesitated. “Sir, that won't be necessary—”
“I’m. Going. With. Her.” His voice was low, but he left no room for argument.
The doctor didn’t push further.
* * * * * *
The ambulance thundered through the city street, its sirens off but its presence cut through the night like a ghost.
Damien sat beside Lily, his fingers resting close to her wrist. Why?
He didn’t know.
Maybe as a reassurance that she was still here.
Maybe it was the guilt. Or maybe both.
The paramedic adjusted Lily’s IV, checking the machines, but Damien barely noticed.
His eyes were on her.
“I should have been there,” he said under his breath.
She didn’t move.
Didn’t flinch.
He let out a breath, leaning his head back against the cool metal wall.
“Lily, I failed you before but I'm not leaving you again. And I swear to God, Lily, I won’t leave your side again.” He said, kissing her forehead.
The words felt heavy, words carved from guilt and something deeper— something he wasn’t ready to name.
And then—
A flicker
The faintest twitch of her fingers.
His breath jerked.
At first, he thought he was seeing things.
But then there it was again.
Not much. Just a small movement.
But that was enough for him for now.
“Lily?” His voice is rough, raw. He moved forward and stared into her face, desperate for sign that she could hear him.
No response.
His pulse pulped, a mix of hope and fear slamming into his chest.
Was she waking up?
Was she aware?
Or was his mind just playing tricks on him?
Seconds passed.
She remained still.
Damien ran a hand through his hair, breathing out slowly.
Maybe it was nothing. Maybe he was seeing things.
Or maybe…
She heard him.
A few minutes later, the ambulance pulled over at the private hospital, the back doors swinging open. The paramedics moved quickly, wheeling her towards the entrance, but Damien stayed close.
He fixed his eyes on her face.
“I’m here now my love and I am never leaving your side,” he mumbled, more to himself than to her.
But he was here now.
And he wasn’t going anywhere.
- Writer
