Chains of Obsession

43

♤Alexander♤

I feel like I've been waiting for an eternity when the doctor's car finally pulls up. He hurries over, carrying his medical bag with him.

"What happened?" he asks as he crouches down next to us.

"She had a panic attack, crashed a car, and hit her head," I explain, my tone succinct and urgent. "She lost consciousness, and her breathing is slowing. I cleaned her wounds and put pressure on the head wound, but she's not waking up."

The doctor nods, his face serious as he begins his assessment. He checks her vitals first—heart rate, blood pressure, respiration—his frown deepening the longer he works.

"Her pulse is weak, and her respirations are shallow," he mutters, opening his medical bag.

He pulls out a small flashlight and checks her eyes. "Pupils are constricted and sluggish. That's not good."

As he continues his examination, I can feel my anxiety spiralling. Her condition is clearly worse than I thought.

"There's also some fluid in her ears," the doctor reports, his voice grave. "Could be a sign of a concussion or something more serious."

He then gently moves her head, his fingers feeling over her skull. When those fingers locate something, Emilia lets out a soft, pained sound, even in her unconscious state.

The doctor looks up at me. "There's a swelling on the back of her head, right here."

He gently probes the area, and Emilia lets out another soft whimper. Every sound she makes feels like a knife in my gut.

"This is bad," the doctor says, his voice serious. "We need to get her to a mansion so I can treat her and make some scans."

I nod, already knowing what needs to be done. "Get a car ready," I bark to my men.

They scramble to their feet, hurrying to follow my orders. I look back at Emilia, her unconscious form looking small and frail in the bright sunlight. My heart clenches at the sight.

"Hang in there, love," I murmur, my hand gently brushing her cheek.

The men quickly prepare the car, the doctor waiting nearby. I scoop her up into my arms again, her body limp and unmoving.

It feels wrong. She should be giggling, complaining, and alive. Not unconscious, bleeding, and unresponsive in my arms.

♤♤♤

It's been hours since Emilia went into surgery. I've been pacing back and forth in the waiting room, each passing minute feeling like an eternity. The men sit around me, looking just as anxious as I feel.

Finally, after what feels like ages, the doctor emerges from the operating room. He looks exhausted, his scrubs stained with blood. I cross the room to meet him, the men rising to their feet behind me.

"How is she?" I ask, my voice tight with worry.

The doctor sighs, running a hand over his face. "The surgery was successful. We stopped the internal bleeding and removed the damaged tissue. She's in recovery now. But..."

"Her vitals are stable," the doctor continues, his expression grave. "She's breathing on her own now, and her heart rate is within the normal range. But because of the trauma to her head, she hasn't regained consciousness yet. We can't tell the extent of the brain damage until she wakes up."

♤♤♤

Another hour later. It's dinner time while I sit here, next to Emilia's bed.

I have skipped the dinner only to be with her.