Chapter 239: ~ 239
Chapter 239
~Octavia~
The world outside the window of the speeding SUV was nothing but a chaotic blur of flashing streetlights and passing cars. Our driver was navigating the night traffic with frantic urgency, the tires occasionally screeching as we took sharp turns toward the hospital.
Inside the back seat, I was completely drowning.
The calm, peaceful serenity of the beach was gone, violently ripped away and replaced by a cold, suffocating terror that made it impossible to breathe. My chest heaved as I stared blankly ahead, my mind spinning entirely out of control.
Images of my father, always so strong, so stubborn, so fiercely protective of our family, kept flashing behind my eyelids, except now I could only picture him pale, lifeless, and hooked up to machines.
A heavy, crushing wave of guilt slammed into my chest, threatening to break me right then and there. How could I have let this happen? For weeks, I had been completely consumed by the madness of everything.
I had been so wrapped up in protecting my territory and playing high-stakes psychological games that I hadn’t even checked on my parents lately. I hadn’t called my father in days. I had been so busy surviving the toxic storm of high society that I had neglected the people who mattered most.
If I lose him because I was too busy fighting Bella, I will never forgive myself, I thought, a bitter sob catching in my throat.
Suddenly, a warm, massive hand wrapped securely over mine.
I looked down through my tears. Franklin was holding my hand all through the agonizing ride. His grip was firm, solid, and unyielding, an anchoring force pulling me back from the edge of total panic.
He didn’t say a word. Instead, he just squeezed my fingers, transferring his own strength into my trembling body, refusing to let go for even a single second.
When the SUV finally slammed to a halt outside the emergency entrance of the hospital, I didn’t even wait for the door to be fully opened. I scrambled out, my bare feet hitting the cold pavement as I ran through the door.
MThe air smelled heavily of antiseptic and sickness. I scanned the chaotic room until my eyes locked onto a familiar, devastating sight in the far corner.
My mother, Patricia, was sitting in a plastic chair, her face buried in her hands. Her shoulders were shaking violently as she sobbed, looking incredibly small and frail under the harsh lights.
"Mom!" I cried out, my voice cracking as I rushed across the room and dropped to my knees in front of her.
She snapped her head up, her eyes red, swollen, and filled with absolute despair. The moment she saw me, she let out a heartbreaking wail, throwing her arms around my neck. "Octavia... oh god, Octavia... he just collapsed. We were having dinner, and he just gripped his chest and fell..."
Before I could talk, a tall, authoritative shadow fell over us. Franklin had made his way into the room, but standing with a powerful, commanding presence. He immediately placed a reassuring hand on my mother’s shoulder, his calm demeanor instantly bringing a sense of order to the panic.
A doctor in blue scrubs stepped through the double doors, looking around the waiting room with a grim expression. "Family of Ben Herman?"
I tried to stand up, but my knees felt jelly. Franklin caught me instantly, his powerful arm wrapping around my waist to support my entire weight. He stepped forward, facing the medical professional. "I am Franklin Flemington. This is his daughter, Octavia, and his wife, Patricia. Give us the update, Doctor."
The doctor sighed, adjusting his glasses. "Mr. Herman suffered a severe myocardial infarction, a major heart attack. There is a significant blockage in his main artery. We managed to stabilize him temporarily, but he is currently in emergency surgery right now. The team is working to place stents to restore blood flow. It’s a critical situation, and the next few hours are vital."
Hearing the words severe heart attack and emergency surgery caused the room to tilt. A cold sweat broke out across my skin, and my breath hitched violently. I felt a sharp pang of dizziness, my hand instinctively moving to protect my stomach. The immense stress was becoming too much for my body to handle.
Franklin noticed immediately. His eyes darkened with fierce protectiveness, not just for me, but for our unborn baby. He became my absolute anchor. He pulled me tightly against his side, practically lifting me off the ground as he guided my mother and me to a private, quiet alcove away from the crowded waiting room.
"Doctor, ensure the chief of surgery is handling this personally," Franklin commanded, his tone calm but carrying the immense weight of his corporate authority. "Whatever resources, whatever specialists are required, fly them in. The Flemington Group will cover everything. Just save him."
The doctor nodded quickly, recognizing the power of the man standing before him, and hurried back through the double doors.
For the next four agonizing hours, Franklin never left my side. He held me tight against his chest, letting me cry into his suit jacket until the fabric was soaked. Franklin was the one who spoke to the nurses, secured blankets, and brought water. He sheltered me completely from the stress, absorbing all the heavy burdens so that I could just breathe and keep our baby safe. His silent strength was the only thing keeping my heart beating.
Finally, just past midnight, the double doors pushed open again. The doctor walked out, but this time, the grim look was gone, replaced by a exhausted smile.
"The surgery was a complete success," the doctor announced, wiping his brow. "We cleared the blockage entirely. Thankfully, your father is now out of danger. His heart is strong, and he is resting in the recovery wing."
A collective sob of pure, relief left my mother and me. I slumped against Franklin, closing my eyes as a million tons of bricks were lifted off my chest. My dad was going to be okay. He was alive.
We were allowed to go into the recovery room for a brief moment. I stood by his bedside, holding his warm, rough hand. He was still heavily sedated and fast asleep, the steady, rhythmic beep of the heart monitor filling the quiet room.
After a while, my mother gently tapped my shoulder, giving me a soft, tired look. "Octavia, honey... look at you. You’re exhausted. Your father is asleep and he won’t be awake until morning. Go home. Get some rest and come back tomorrow. I’ll stay here with him."
I wanted to argue, but Franklin gave me a meaningful look, silently reminding me of my own health. I nodded slowly, leaning down to kiss my father’s forehead, and then kissed my mother’s pale cheek. "Okay, Mom. Call me the second he opens his eyes."
We said our quiet goodbyes and walked out of the hospital, the cool night air hitting us as we stepped back into the waiting SUV. I leaned my head back against the leather headrest, letting out a long, shaky breath.
"So much is happening in a single day," I whispered, closing my eyes as the sheer exhaustion settled deep into my bones. "I am just so glad it’s over and my dad is okay. What a complete roller coaster."
Franklin wrapped his arm around me, pulling me into his side, letting me rest my head on his shoulder.
But as the adrenaline completely faded, my mind suddenly clicked back to the beach. I remembered the exact moment before the phone rang, the heavy, emotional look in Franklin’s eyes, the way his hands had gripped my shoulders, and the raw gravity in his voice. He had been about to say something.
I opened my eyes, shifting slightly so I could look up at his sharp profile in the dim lighting of the car.
"Franklin," I murmured softly. "Before my mom called... you were saying something to me earlier. You looked so serious. What is it?"
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