Romancing my Boss

Chapter 15

The next several hours blurred into a kaleidoscope of harsh fluorescent lights, the antiseptic tang of disinfectant, and a constant backdrop of frenetic hospital activity swirling around me.

Through it all, Max remained an anchoring presence at my side.

He said little, seeming to instinctively understand that platitudes would ring hollow in the face of my silent, white-knuckled despair. Instead, he simply stood resolute vigil beside me - that devastating masculine strength reminding me how fortunate I was not to be enduring this torment entirely alone.

Eventually a somber-faced doctor emerged, her expression grave. Immediate dread plied my veins to ice as she approached, the air thickening around us like funereal sludge.

This was it - the unthinkable words I'd been dreading since hearing the news.

Beside me, Max tensed imperceptibly, the only outward sign of bracing for the crushing blow about to be delivered.

Yet instead of solemn condolences, the words that left the doctor's lips detonated like a blinding shock grenade through the leaden atmosphere.

"It's...well, it's quite remarkable, Ms. Bennett. Your father has rallied in a way I've rarely witnessed before. He's still very fragile but stabilized, and the next hours will be crucial but I',m optimistic that barring any further complications...he has a good chance of overcoming this crisis."

My knees threatened to buckle with the force of that tidal wave of delirious reprieve crashing over me. Max's steadying grip on my elbow was the only thing keeping me upright as giddy disbelief swamped my senses.

He was going to be...okay? After weathering the past hours steeled for tragedy, hearing that improbable prognosis unleashed a deluge of emotions too overwhelming to process all at once. Relief. Awe. Profound, humbling gratitude. Thank you God for hearing my pleas.

And an incredulous flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't have to say goodbye to him just yet after all.

"Are...are you certain?" The tremulous whisper escaped my lips before I could call it back, tear-scorched cheeks still sheened with disbelief.

The doctor's somber expression eased into a reassuring smile, imbuing her delicately featured face with warmth.

"See for yourself," she invited, gesturing toward the hallway behind her with an incline of her head.

A strangled sound caught in my throat. With numb, wobbling steps, I lurched forward, barely registering the brief pressure of Max's hand on the small of my back as if to steady me.

And there he was - gray hair tousled and complexion waxy, yet gloriously, undeniably alive. His faded blue eyes met mine, creasing at the corners in that bone-deep weariness mixed with profound joy I knew so well.

"Lottie..."

The reverential rasp of my nickname tilted the room on its axis. I swayed drunkenly on my feet for a dazed heartbeat before staggering the final two steps and collapsing at his bedside in a torrent of hitching sobs.

My head pillowed against the scratchiness of the hospital gown where his skeletal chest lay beneath. A feeble hand stroked tremulously over my hair in the ritual comforting gesture from my childhood, gentled and slowed by time's cruel progression.

Yet now, instead of filling me with sorrow, that frail touch opened the floodgates of gratitude and sheer euphoria I never imagined I'd feel again in my father's presence. Not after the ravages of his devastating decline...

This was nothing short of a miracle. Not just Dad's seemingly impossible rally, but the idea that I wouldn't have to endure another shattering loss just yet. Not today.