The billionaire Accidental bride

chapter 2

Natalie’s POV

The doctor’s words hung in the sterile, air-conditioned room like a heavy, suffocating smog.

*"...your girlfriend."*

The silence that followed was agonizing. The sharp, rhythmic *beep... beep... beep* of the heart monitor felt like a countdown to my own execution. My blood ran cold, pulling away from my extremities until my fingertips tingled with numbness. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. Every nerve in my body was screaming at me to run, to fall to my knees and confess, to scream the ugly, agonizing truth into the pristine walls of this hospital room.

I looked at Gavin.

His striking dark eyes, previously filled with confusion, flicked from the doctor’s smiling face over to me. His brows pulled together, searching my face with a desperate, vulnerable intensity. He didn't remember. He truly didn't remember a single thing.

"Is... is that right, ma'am?" the doctor prompted warmly, turning back to face me. "You *are* his girlfriend, correct?"

A lump the size of a fist formed in my throat. I squeezed my eyes shut for a second, my lungs burning for oxygen. This was a nightmare. I had crossed a line, and now the web of deceit was wrapping tightly around my neck, threatening to strangle me.

"Yes..." my voice was barely a squeak, trembling so hard it hardly sounded like my own. Tears flooded my eyes once more, spilling over my lashes and trailing down my pale cheeks. The sheer weight of my guilt was crushing my chest. I took a step closer to the side of his bed, unable to look him directly in the eye.

"I'm sorry..." I whispered, my voice breaking completely into a pathetic, sob-laced murmur. I dropped my head, my shoulders shaking violently. "I'm sorry... I am so, *so* sorry for everything..."

I wasn't just apologizing for the lie. I was apologizing for the shattered metal, the screeching tires, the sickening *thud* of his body hitting the hood of my car, and the crimson blood that had stained the cold street. I was apologizing for stealing his memory, for standing over his broken body like a fake savior when I was truly the villain who had brought him low.

I waited for the blow. I waited for him to sense the falsehood in my words, to push me away, or to remember the headlights rushing toward him.

Instead, a gentle warmth wrapped around my cold, trembling wrist.

I gasped softly and looked up. Gavin had reached out, his long, sculpted fingers lightly encircling my wrist. Despite the deep physical trauma his body had just endured, his grip was tender, astonishingly reassuring.

"There's no need to be sorry..." Gavin said softly.

His voice was a low, velvet rasp—a deep, melodious tone that sent a strange, electric shiver straight down my spine. Even with dark bruises smudging the skin beneath his eyes and a thick white bandage wrapped around his brow, his voice held an irresistible, commanding grace.

*He actually has such a beautiful voice,* a quiet, foolish voice whispered inside my head. It was a fleeting, selfish thought that immediately made me feel even more dirty with guilt.

"There is really nothing for you to be sorry about," Gavin continued, his dark eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my knees feel like water. "You were the one who saved me, weren't you? You brought me here. You stayed."

"I..." I swallowed hard, the lies sticking like needles in my throat. "It was... it was nothing, Gavin. Truly."

"It isn't nothing to me," he murmured, his thumb gently brushing against the pulse point on my wrist. I could feel my heart hammering frantically right beneath his skin. He looked so fragile, so utterly reliant on the single anchor he thought he had in this terrifying, memoryless void. "Please... just promise me one thing."

"Anything," the word slipped out of my mouth before my brain could stop it.

"Please... always stay by my side," Gavin whispered, his eyes searching mine with a raw, desperate vulnerability that shattered whatever remained of my composure. "Don't leave me alone in this."

The room seemed to shrink until there was only him and me. My conscience raged against my chest, screaming at me that I was trapping him in a delusion, that I was taking advantage of his head injury. But as I looked down at his pained, hopeful face, I realized I was already too deep in the quicksand. If I pulled away now, if I told him the truth while he was in this delicate state, the shock could ruin his recovery. Or worse... he would hate me forever.

"I... I will," I promised softly, my voice barely audible above the quiet hum of the room. "I won't leave you."

A faint, relieved smile touched the corners of his lips, relaxing the harsh lines of pain on his face.

The doctor cleared her throat with a soft, satisfied smile, breaking the heavy atmosphere. "Well, now that the patient is awake and stable, I will leave you two to rest. Nurse, let's prepare the updated chart."

With a polite nod, the medical staff turned and slipped out of the room, shutting the heavy wooden door behind them. The quiet settled over us like a thick blanket.

Suddenly, before I could gather my scattered thoughts, the door burst open with a loud, dramatic clatter.

"Gavin! My baby!"

A stunning, middle-aged woman swept into the room like a sudden storm. She was dressed impeccably in an elegant, tailored designer suit, her hair styled to perfection, radiating an aura of immense wealth, authority, and high society. Yet, beneath her regal exterior, her face was twisted with pure maternal agony.

She glided past me as if I were invisible, dropping her expensive leather handbag onto the floor and rushing straight to the side of the hospital bed.

"Oh, my sweet boy! What happened to you?!" she cried out, her manicured hands hovering frantically over his bruised face, touching his shoulders, checking his arms, tears instantly filling her sharply lined eyes. "When the security detail called and said you were in surgery, I thought my heart was going to stop! Who did this to you?!"

Gavin winced slightly at the sudden explosion of energy, but his expression softened with familiar affection.

"Mom... please, calm down," Gavin replied softly, his raspy voice trying to soothe her. "I'm okay now. The doctors fixed me up. I'm going to be fine."

"Fine?! You look like you barely survived a war!" his mother gasped, pressing a trembling hand to her chest as she tried to catch her breath. She turned to inspect the monitors, her eyes darting across every piece of medical equipment in the room. "I am going to hire the best specialists in the country! I am going to tear this city apart until I find the heartless monster who ran you over!"

I flinched violently at her words, stepping back into the shadows near the corner of the room. My skin burned hot, cold sweat pooling at the nape of my neck. *She's going to find out. A woman like her... she will destroy me.*

"Mom, stop worrying," Gavin said gently, leaning back against his pillows. A subtle, mischievous glint entered his dark eyes as he gestured toward where I was standing in the shadows. "Besides... if you're worrying about who is going to take care of me, you don't need to hire anyone."

His mother paused, frowning slightly. "What do you mean, son?"

"Your future daughter-in-law is already here," Gavin said smoothly, his eyes sliding over to me, holding my gaze captive. "She's going to be taking care of me."

"My... what?"

His mother slowly turned her head. For the very first time since she had stormed into the room, her sharp, piercing eyes landed directly on me. She scanned me from head to toe—taking in my messy hair, my plain, rumpled clothes, my tear-stained face, and the subtle, lingering scent of hospital disinfectant clinging to my clothes.

The atmosphere in the room turned ice-cold.

"Who... is *she*?" his mother asked, her tone instantly shifting from frantic grief to sharp, aristocratic suspicion. She stepped away from Gavin's bed, walking toward me with slow, deliberate, terrifying grace. "Gavin... who is this girl?"