-ˋˏ ༻Chapter 11༺ ˎˊ-

"He's in critical condition, but he's alive. He's got a concussion and some broken bones, and the doctors are still monitoring him closely. It's too early to say if he'll make it, but he's hanging in there for now."

The old man listens intently through the phone, his face betraying no emotion as he processes the news. He sat in his chair, his facial features were sharp and intimidating, his gaze intense as he spoke into the phone coldly.

"In critical huh? So he isn't dead, I see..." he paused momentarily before adding in a lower tone,

"How much chance for him to survive?"

The person on the other line replied, their voice hushed and serious.

"The doctors say there's still hope albeit slim. And based on my investigation and observation so far, I can assure you it's not more than 20% chance for him to live."

The old man's face remains impassive, but there is a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes. He takes a deep breath before speaking into the phone.

"I see," the old man replies, his voice cold and calculating.

"Continue monitoring him, and keep me informed of any changes in his condition."

"Of course, sir," the caller says, his tone deferential.

"I'll keep you updated."

The old man nods curtly, dismissing him, before hanging up the phone. He sits back in his chair, a small satisfied smile playing on his lips as he steeples his fingers, deep in thought.

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Layla was still sitting by Sean's bedside in the hospital. She had dozed off for a short while, but was now awake again, keeping vigil over him. She looked pale and exhausted, her eyes red-rimmed from crying and lack of sleep. She gently squeezed his hand, willing him to show some signs of waking up.

A young nurse entered the room quietly. She smiled reassuringly at Layla before proceeding to check on the monitors and medications.

She checked the vital signs on the beeping machines and noted something down on a board. She then checked the IV that was supplying Sean with fluids and medicine. When she finished, she turned to Layla and spoke softly.

"You should get some rest. Staying awake like this isn't good for you" the nurse said with a sympathetic smile.

Layla shook her head adamantly.

"No, I'm not leaving him. I have to stay with him. What if he wakes up and I'm not here?" she replied, her voice thick with emotion.

The nurse sighed, understanding Layla's concern.

"I understand your worry for him. But trust me when I say that you need to take care of yourself too. You can't be of any help to him if you're exhausted and burned out" she said gently, trying to reason with her.

Layla looked torn, her gaze flicking between the nurse and Sean's unmoving form. She knew the nurse was right, but the thought of leaving him even for a second was inconceivable.

The nurse placed a comforting hand on Layla's shoulder.

"It's okay. You don't have to leave if you're not ready. But please try to get some rest in one of the waiting rooms. I'll come and check on him regularly, and I'll notify you right away if there's any change or if he shows signs of waking up" the nurse said kindly.

Layla nodded, still reluctant but knowing that the nurse was right.

"Alright, I'll go and rest for a bit. But please, please let me know if anything happens" she replied, her voice pleading.

"Of course, I'll alert you immediately if there's any change," the nurse assured her with a smile.

Layla stood up reluctantly, giving Sean's hand one last squeeze before quietly leaving the room.

She walked down the hallway to the VIP waiting room, each step feeling heavy. She sat down on one of the rather comfortable chairs and leaned back, her mind racing with worry and anxiety.

She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm her racing thoughts. But all she could see was Sean's face, pale and still, hooked up to various machines in the ICU. The image kept playing in her mind, taunting her and making it impossible for her to relax. As she waited, her weariness and exhaustion slowly set in.

Despite her worrying and anxiety, Layla's exhaustion slowly took over her as time passed. Her eyelids grew heavy, her body became weary, and before she knew it, she had succumbed to the darkness of sleep.

She slept for about an hour, undisturbed and deep, until she was woken up by a gentle shaking.

She opened her eyes slowly, blinking blearily as her surroundings came into focus. Standing in front of her was the same nursing who had told her to rest.

"Wake up, miss," the nurse said quietly, her voice soft but urgent.

"What... what is it?" Layla mumbled, still disoriented from being suddenly woken up.

"Your husband is awake," the nurse replied, her eyes serious.

"We've managed to stabilize him and he's conscious now. We thought you would want to know."

Layla's eyes widened, her tiredness forgotten in an instant. She sat up straight, her heart racing as hope and relief washed over her.

"He's... he's awake?" she repeated, her voice trembling.

The nurse nodded, a small smile on her face.

"Yes, he's awake. He's a little confused and disoriented, and understandably very uncomfortable. But he's responding to stimuli and talking. Would you like to come and see him now?"

"Yes, yes I want to see him," Layla replied instantly, already on her feet and following the nurse out of the waiting room.

Her heart was pounding in her chest as they walked down the hallway back towards the ICU.

As they entered the unit and approached Sean's room, Layla felt her breath catch in her throat. Her whole body felt tense, her mind racing with a million thoughts.

The nurse pushed the door open, revealing Sean lying in the bed, his eyes open and blinking against the brightness. His face was pale, and he looked disoriented, but he was unmistakably awake.

"Sean," Layla breathed, her voice cracking with emotion.

She walked quickly to his side, her eyes brimming with tears. Sean's head turned slowly towards her, his eyes still unfocused and confused. He tried to speak but his voice was hoarse and weak.

"Lay-la..." he managed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Layla reached his side, her hands trembling as she took his pale, bruised hands in hers. She couldn't hold back the tears any longer as they spilled down her cheeks.

"I'm here," she whispered, squeezing his hand gently.

"I'm right here."

The nurse discreetly left the room, closing the door gently behind her, giving them a moment of privacy.

Layla sat down on the chair beside Sean, her eyes never leaving his face. She was filled with relief and happiness that he was at least conscious, but at the same time her heart ached for him seeing him in such a state.

"How are you feeling? Does it hurt anywhere?" she asked worriedly, gently stroking his unruly hair off his forehead.

But Sean didn't answer, he just lay there watching her with questioning gaze as if confused with her reaction. he glanced down at his hand that being held by her then back to her face.

"Sean? Do you recognize me?" Layla asked, her heart sinking as she saw the confused look in his eyes.

Sean's gaze remained fixed on her, his eyebrows furrowed slightly. He tried to say something, but his voice was still hoarse and weak. After a moment of struggling, he finally managed to croak out.

"Why are... you here?"

Layla felt like she had been slapped. The question stung deeper than she would have ever expected.

"What do you mean why am I here? I'm your wife. Of course I'm here," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady despite the hurt she felt.

Sean slowly pulled his hand away from Layla's grip, his movements were slow and jerky as if every action required great effort.

He looked at her with a mixture of confusion and something else that Layla couldn't quite place. His eyes were still dazed but there was a hint of... was that anger?

"Why are... you here?" Sean repeated his question, his voice a little stronger now.

"I was worried about you." Layla replied, confusion and hurt clear in her voice.

"You worried... about me?" Sean said sarcastically, his voice bitter.

"Of course I was worried about you! You were in an accident! What do you expect me to do, just sit at home and do nothing?" Layla retorted, her hurt quickly turning into anger.

"Yeah..., it was what.... you do best after all.... Not give a damn... about me," Sean snapped back.

Layla flinched at his bitter tone. She hadn't expected him to react this way when he woke up.

"That's not fair, and you know it," Layla shot back, stung.

She could feel the guilt and shame rising up within her, but she tried to push it down.

"I'm here now, aren't I? Doesn't that show I care?"

"Yeah..., you're here... now... out of guilt... probably," Sean said angrily, his words loaded with sarcasm and pain.

Layla swallowed hard, her guilt and shame multiplying by the second, but she tried to hold her ground.

"That's not true. I'm here because I love you," she said firmly, her voice quivering a bit.

"pfft ha— cough! gasped!"

Sean tried to laugh, but as he did, he was hit by a coughing fit. His chest heaved as he struggled for breath and his face twisted in pain, his laboured breaths came in gasps, each one sounding like it was painful to take. His hand reflexively clutched his chest where the pain felt the most as he kept coughing.

Layla sprang up from her seat in alarm, instinctively reaching for the call button to alert the nurses. She watched anxiously, her heart aching as Sean struggled to catch his breath.

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