just read.
This book contains mature themes, explicit language, and scenes of a sexual nature intended for adult audiences only. It is rated R and is not suitable for readers under the age of 18.
Trigger Warning:
This book also includes depictions o...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Beyonce Knowles Manhattan Hospital
August 10, 2025
I lay there in bed, trying to get comfortable, but no position seemed right. My chest ached with every small movement. Blue was knocked out on the couch.
A soft knock came at the door, and I didn't even bother looking up. I knew who it was.
Nurse Sarah, here for round two of her breathing exercises.
"Okay, Beyoncé," she said as she walked in, her voice a little too cheerful for the moment. "Time to do your breathing exercises again."
I groaned and rolled my eyes. "We just did this an hour ago."
Sarah raised an eyebrow, unfazed by my attitude. "And we're doing it again. Don't make me get nasty with you."
I sighed, annoyed. "Can't we skip it?"
She shot me a look. "You know we cannot do that. The more you do these, the faster you'll heal."
I shook my head but didn't argue. I wasn't about to win this one. She handed me the spirometer, and I took it, grumbling under my breath.
I placed the tube in my mouth and inhaled slowly, feeling that familiar tightness in my chest. The ball inside the tube slowly floated up as I tried to hit the marker.
My ribs ached, and I winced slightly.
"Good, keep going," Sarah said, watching me closely as she jotted down some notes. "You're doing better today."
I finished the set and handed the spirometer back to her.
"Yeah, well, doesn't feel like it," I muttered, leaning my head back on the pillow, trying not to think about how long this process was going to take.
She gave me a sympathetic look, but she didn't soften up. "Trust me, I know it's rough, but you're getting there. Bit by bit."
Nurse Sarah moved around the bed, checking the machines, making sure everything was where it needed to be. She was quiet for a moment, then came over to me with the blood pressure cuff and started wrapping it around my arm.
I watched her go through the routine, feeling the familiar tightness as the cuff inflated.
"How're you feeling, Beyoncé?" she asked, glancing up at me as she checked my heart rate on the monitor. "Any pain?"
I hesitated for a second before answering, trying not to sound too weak. "A little," I admitted, my voice low. "Mostly in my chest. It's not unbearable, just... there."
She nodded, her expression serious but kind. "That's normal after everything you've been through. I can adjust your pain meds if it gets worse, but you need to let me know."
