The CEO's Contractual Wife (Olivia and Ryan) novel Chapter 43

Chapter 43

Olivia

Ethan nearly fell off his chair, laughing. “How did I miss this story?”

“You were away at college,” Mom explained, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “Olivia came home that night and declared she was done with dating forever.”

“And now she’s dating Alexander Carter,” Amelia said, shaking her head in amazement. “Talk about an upgrade from Lord

Marcus.”

“Alexander doesn’t wear capes, as far as I know,” I said dryly.

“Only expensive custom suits,” Nick said.

Before I could respond, the waiting room door opened, and Dr. Weaver entered, still wearing his surgical cap. We all fell silent instantly, the laughter evaporating.

“The surgery was successful,” he announced without preamble, and I felt my shoulders sag with relief. “We completed all three bypasses with no complications. Your husband’s heart is already showing improved blood flow.”

Mom pressed her hand to her mouth, tears welling in her eyes. “Thank God.”

“He’s in recovery now,” Dr. Weaver continued. “He’ll be moved to the ICU shortly, where he’ll remain for the next 24 to 48 hours. After that, assuming all goes well, he’ll be transferred to a regular room.”

“When can we see him?” Mom asked.

“You can see him briefly once he’s settled in the ICU, but only two visitors at a time, and only for a few minutes. He’ll be groggy from the anesthesia and will need rest.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Nick said, standing to shake his hand. “For everything.”

Dr. Weaver nodded. “Mr. Carter made it clear your father was to receive the best care possible. I’ll be personally overseeing his recovery.”

I felt a rush of gratitude toward Alexander. Whatever his motives, whatever our arrangement, he’d come through when it mattered.

“A nurse will come get you when Mr. Morgan is ready for visitors,” Dr. Weaver said, heading for the door. “Try to get some rest yourselves. The next few days will be challenging.”

After he left, Mom burst into tears–happy tears of relief. Ethan wrapped his arms around her, his own eyes suspiciously bright.

“He’s going to be okay,” Ethan said, his voice cracking slightly. “Dad’s going to be okay.”

The next few hours passed in a blur. Mom and Nick went in first to see Dad, then Ethan and I took our turn. He looked smaller somehow, pale against the hospital sheets, with tubes and wires connecting him to various machines. But when he opened his eyes and saw us, he managed a weak smile.

“Hey, kiddo,” he whispered, his voice raspy from the breathing tube they’d removed. “No crying, okay? I’m not dead yet.”

“Not funny, Dad,” I said, taking his hand carefully, mindful of the IV.

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Chapter 43

“Little funny,” he insisted, his eyelids drooping. “Tell your mom I love her.”

Tell her yourself tomorrow,” Ethan said, squeezing his shoulder gently. “You need to rest now.”

Dad was already drifting off again, the medication pulling him under. We stayed a few more minutes, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest before the nurse gently suggested we let him sleep.

By the time we all left the ICU, it was nearly midnight. Mom insisted on staying overnight despite our protests that she should get some rest.

“I’m not leaving him,” she said firmly. “The nurses said I could stay in the chair. You kids go home and get some sleep.”

“I’ll stay with you, Mom,” Nick offered.

“No need for all of us to be uncomfortable,” she insisted. “Go home. Come back in the morning. I’ll call if anything changes.

We knew better than to argue with that tone. After extracting promises that she would call immediately if there was any change, we reluctantly agreed to leave.

The cab stopped in front of my apartment building, the yellow glow of the streetlights casting long shadows across the sidewalk.

I paid the driver and stepped out into the cool night air, my body suddenly aware of how exhausted I was.

“You need help, miss?” the driver asked, noticing my weary expression.

“No, thank you. I’m fine.” I mustered a smile and watched the cab pull away before turning toward my building.

The lobby was eerily quiet, the only sound being the faint, almost soothing hum of the elevator as I pressed the button and waited for it to arrive.

The mirrored doors slid open with a soft chime, and I stepped inside, feeling the cool, metallic interior embrace me. As the elevator ascended, I leaned against the wall, the soft vibration beneath my feet a reminder of the upward movement. Each floor passed with a gentle ding, the numbers lighting up one by one until I finally reached my floor.

My apartment welcomed me with familiar silence, the small space feeling both comforting and empty after the chaos of the hospital.

I dropped my purse on the kitchen counter and filled a glass with water, gulping it down before refilling it and carrying it to the couch. The cushions enveloped me as I sank down, kicking off my shoes and tucking my feet underneath me.

Dad was going to be okay. The thought kept repeating in my mind, a mantra of relief that made my eyes water again. I blinked back tears and reached for my phone, knowing I should text Alexander.

Me: Surgery was successful. Thank you for everything you did today.

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