Davis gazed at the sterile blue walls of the hospital ward, his sharp eyes scanning every corner as if to etch the room into his memory. The faint hum of the heart monitor and the occasional distant chatter from the corridor were the only sounds breaking the silence. His body ached, he tried to move his legs but then it is unresponsive. He didn't want to imagine the truth.
The door creaked open, drawing his attention. A doctor stepped in, his expression professional and unreadable a nurse holding a clipboard followed closely behind him. With practiced efficiency he checked his body and the various monitors attached to him before he gently removed the oxygen mask; all the while not uttering a word to Davis. It was as though he is just another task to be fulfilled.
He adjusted the IV drip, noting the readings on the monitor. Davis watched him with a blank stare, his thoughts swirling within him, he opened his mouth to speak but then his voice was hoarse. The nurse behind the doctor quickly refilled a cup of warm water to help him moisten his throat.
"You need more rest and you don't have to over think things," the doctor finally said, his tone devoid of emotion. After finishing his adjustments, he turned to leave but paused by the door. "Your family has been contacted. They'll be here soon."
"How long have I been here, doctor?", he asked while looking at him.
"You've been here for four months", he stated, his tone calm and a flicker of pity crossing his face but then he masked it. It is not in his place to say or feel anything for him.
Davis couldn't suppress the bitter smirk that curled his lips. "Admitted in the hospital for four months, with no one by my side... That's truly remarkable, coming from a family I've sacrificed everything for," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
The doctor hesitated for a moment, seemingly unsure of how to respond, before nodding curtly and exiting the room. The nurse followed without a word, leaving Davis alone once more.
As silence reclaimed the room, Davis's smirk faded, replaced by a somber expression. He leaned back against the pillows, his mind a storm of conflicting emotions while he constantly tried to move his legs but time and time again his hope was dashed. He can no longer move about. Gradually, he lifted the top sheet covering him to see if his leg is there—yes it is but unresponsive.
His hands trembled, his voice choked as the truth dawned on him "he is crippled, his leg can no longer be moved". A bitter laugh escaped his lips. It's no surprise why he was abandoned.
For years, he had poured his heart and soul into the Allen family. Every sleepless night, every calculated risk, every achievement—it had all been for the family. Yet, here he was, abandoned in his weakest moment.
Had he been wrong all along?
The thought gnawed at him. His life had revolved around duty, loyalty, responsibility and ambition. But now, he couldn't help but question whether his sacrifices had been worth it. Awake for one hour, yet no family member is here.
While he was lost in thought, an advertisement began broadcasting on the TV, pulling his attention back to the present. His gaze on the TV was probing as a glaring bold headline rolled across the scream "Vera Louis's engagement to Aaron Allen: A match made in heaven".
The screen displayed clips of Vera arrayed in a gorgeous white gown accentuating elegant figure, her radiant smile captivating as she stood arm-in-arm with Aaron Allen, his cousin. The images were interwoven with footage of their lavish engagement ceremony, the room filled with the applause and admiration of the attendees who are also associates, business partners and friends. Words like "powerful combination" "power couple" and "perfect union" flashed across the screen.
Davis's felt his chest tightened, a sharp, invisible dagger plunging into his heart. He stared at the screen, unblinking, as if the sight alone could somehow rewrite the reality unfolding before him.
"This… this has to be a joke," he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible.
His hands gripped the edge of the hospital bed, his knuckles turned white as disbelief and anger coursed through him. Vera… the woman I was supposed to marry… engaged to Aaron? The thought echoed in his mind, each repetition more bitter than the last. "She abandoned me for Aaron, why? Why? Why?"
The betrayal was like salt on a wound, and the pain in his chest was no longer just from his physical injuries. It was the pain of a man whose world had been turned upside down, who has been abandoned by love.
As Davis struggled to process what he had just seen, the sound of hurried footsteps approached. The door to his ward swung open, revealing a familiar figure— Ethan his assistant.
Ethan froze in the doorway, his eyes widening in shock. Seeing Davis awake, he broke into a wide grin, his initial disbelief quickly replaced by joy, he had left the hospital early that morning to attend to some pressing issues relating to Davis.
"Mr. Allen!" Ethan exclaimed, rushing to his bedside. "You're awake! I—I can't believe it!"
He looked over him again and again. "Are you feeling uncomfortable anyway? Do I call the doctor?" He asked seeing him unresponsive. He made to leave the ward. "Stop", Davis said halting him in his steps.
Davis turned his head slowly, his face devoid of emotion. The sharp contrast between Ethan's elation and his own turmoil only deepened the ache in his chest.
"I was starting to think you'd never wake up," Ethan continued, his voice trembling with excitement. "You don't know how many sleepless nights I've spent praying for this moment. I—"
"What is going on?" Davis interrupted, his voice low but firm. His gaze drifted back to the television, where the advertisement was now replaying the highlights of Vera and Aaron's engagement.
Ethan followed his line of sight, his face falling as he saw the broadcast. His shoulders sagged, and a look of guilt crossed his features.
"Sir… I will tell you but first you have to rest," Ethan said, his voice resigned."
"My family?," Davis asked bitterly, cutting him off again. Ethan avoided his gaze as he walked to bedside to adjust the sheets over his leg.
Davis let out a hollow laugh, one that lacked any trace of humor. "They always have a way of prioritizing themselves, don't they?"
Ethan remained silent, unsure of how to respond.
Davis looked at him, his expression hardening. "Tell me everything, Ethan. No more lies. No more half-truths. I want to know exactly what's been happening while I've been lying here."
Ethan stood there, torn between loyalty and the burden of truth. His chest felt heavy as he watched Davis, the once-proud and invincible heir, now reduced to a shadow of himself. The weight of betrayal in the air was almost palpable, and Ethan could see the cracks forming in the man he admired—not from the accident, but from the knife his own family had driven into his back.
He clenched his fists at his sides, his heart aching. But he knew—he knew that delaying the truth would only deepen the wound. A short, sharp pain was better than dragging it out.
Taking a deep breath, Ethan stepped closer to the bed. "Sir," he began, his voice thick with emotion. "You deserve to know everything, and I won't hide it from you but then you must prioritize your health."
Davis's piercing gaze locked onto him, cold and unrelenting. "Then speak," he demanded, his voice sharp despite the weakness in his body. "What have they done?"