Married to the mafia boss Series

My doctor is standing at the edge of my hospital bed standing next to a lady in casual clothes. She’s not a doctor or a nurse from the looks of it.

“What is your name?” She is an interpreter.

I remember my name from the passports, “Jessica.”

“Jessica, my name is Shelby,” she smiles kindly, “You have suffered a concussion. The doctor wants to keep you here for observation.””Where is Milo?” I sign desperately.

“Is that the man who was brought in with you?” I nod my head. Shelby talks to the doctor for a moment before turning back to me, “He is surgery right now. Who is he to you?”

“My husband,” tears fill my eyes again. “We were on our honeymoon taking a walk and they just attacked us,” I play the victim.

“Okay,” she places her hand on my shoulder. “Everything is okay now. Your husband is in surgery and once we find out more you will be the first to know. Will you let the doctor conduct a few more tests on you? It seems you must’ve hit your head hard.”

I bring my hand to the back of my head where there is a bump and some blood. I nod my head giving my consent. I don’t care about myself. I just want Angelo to be okay.

If he doesn’t make it…

I can’t think about that. I won’t.Belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

The doctor tells me to get rest for my concussion. He gives me an IV drip to stay hydrated. He said I was severely dehydrated, too. They dim the lights that seemed all too bright and leave me with a tray of food. My translator says she’ll be just outside if I need anything.

“All I need is to know how my husband is doing.”

“I will be right here when the doctor comes back with any news,” she gives me an apologetic smile and leaves me to my rest.

I can’t rest, not when the news could be bad news. Not when Angelo could be dying on the operating table.

As the hours pass I realize no news could be good news, but they’ve had him in surgery for so long I fear that even if he makes it out, he may not be the same.

Just as I start to doze, the doctor stands in my doorway, Shelby next to him. I try to read their expressions, their solemn looks give nothing away. I fear the worst. I close my eyes. If it’s bad news at least these next few seconds I can pretend he’s still here.

Shelby places her hand on my shoulder. I’m wary to open my eyes. “He’s out of surgery.”

“He’s alive?” I look between the doctor and interpreter.

“He is. The doctors won’t know his condition until he wakes up. If he wakes up.”

“If?” My heart breaks.

“He suffered extreme brain damage. If he wakes up there may be problems with his functioning and memory. Right now he’s healing, they’re waiting for the swelling to go down. It’s a waiting game.”

“He’ll be okay? Right? He has to be!”

The interpreter sighs, grabbing my hand. Her smile is one of pity. I refuse to believe this is the end.

This is not the end.