Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 65137 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65137 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
He had to blink a few times as his eyes adjusted to the well-lit corridor. He had been right: two figures were talking to each other in hushed voices. It took him a moment to recognize Winifred and Zane, Ian’s driver. They both had deep frowns on their faces. Was Winifred crying?
Miles’s stomach hardened into a tight knot of anxiety and dread. Ian hadn’t returned yet. Had… had anything happened?
“What’s going on?” he said.
Winifred and Zane’s heads snapped toward him.
For a moment, they just looked at him, something deeply uncomfortable about their expressions.
Miles’s stomach hurt. Something was wrong. “Winifred?” he said hoarsely, looking into her suspiciously shiny eyes.
The housekeeper’s lips pursed tightly for a moment. “It’s Mr. Caldwell. He—there was an accident.”
Miles felt like the ground was pulled from under his feet. He had to lean against the doorway, feeling dizzy.
“An accident?” he croaked out. “Is he—?” He had to be all right, he had to be, pleasepleaseplease.
Winifred’s tight expression crumbled. “We don’t know, dear. We only know that he was in critical condition an hour ago, but we don’t—we don’t know anything more. We will be the last to know if anything happens.”
Miles nodded dazedly. Of course. They were just employees. Servants. No one would tell them anything.
“How did you even find out?” he managed.
Zane was the one who replied. “The hospital contacted Mr. Caldwell’s family, and they let his PA know. He was the one to contact me. Told me to come here and wait in case they need something for Mr. Caldwell. He promised to let us know if… if something happens, but there’s been nothing so far.”
Miles tried to take comfort in it. He told himself that no news was good news. But it felt like the world was spinning around him and he couldn’t breathe, fear gripping his chest and tightening his throat.
“What hospital is he in?” he said, looking at Zane. His embarrassment over the sex in the car seemed so silly now. So irrelevant. He needed to go to Ian, he needed to—
“You will not be allowed to see him, Miles,” Winifred said, not unkindly. “None of us will be. Family only.”
Miles sagged against the doorway, clutching the remnants of his composure around him like a tattered cloak. He would not break into tears in front of them. He would not.
“Go to bed, dear,” Winifred said, looking at him with such pity it was obvious that he wasn’t fooling anyone. “I’ll let you know if… if something changes.”
Nodding numbly, Miles staggered back into the room and closed the door.
He’d never felt so helpless in his life.
And so terrified.
Chapter 20
The following week passed in a blur of gut-wrenching anxiety, panic, and helpless fear. Miles felt like death warmed over, his head pounding and his eyes hurting from lack of sleep. He ate something when Winifred all but forced him to and tried to ignore the pitying looks of the staff. He tried to smile when he was with Liam, but the boy still seemed to somehow sense that something was wrong and alternated between being too quiet and throwing temper tantrums.
“I want Dada!” he yelled at some point, his blue eyes glaring at Miles.
Later, Miles would be ashamed of himself for breaking down in front of a small child, but that was exactly what happened. He burst into tears, and not the pretty kind, his knees collapsing as he curled himself into a tight ball and wept.
He wanted Ian back. He wanted to see him, wanted to feel his arms around him, wanted to tell him how much he loved him, tell him every sappy thought he’d ever had.
But with every passing day, the hope grew smaller and smaller. What Ian’s PA had told them didn’t sound promising. Ian had been operated on three times so far, and while the doctors had managed to stop the internal bleeding and mend the broken bones, the brain surgery hadn’t brought the results they all had hoped for. Apparently, Ian couldn’t even breathe properly without assistance. While he wasn’t brain dead, he was still in a coma, and the odds of him ever waking up from it became worse with every passing day.
A small hand touched Miles’s arm.
“My?” Liam said in a small voice. He sounded confused. Scared.
Miles wiped his face with his hands and lifted his head to look at the boy. God, looking at Liam hurt. He looked so much like his father. Miles could see Ian in his every feature.
“I’m sorry, love,” Miles croaked out, trying to smile for the boy’s sake.
Before he could say anything else, the door opened.
Miles found himself staring at an unfamiliar woman. She was tall and elegantly dressed. It took Miles a moment to recognize her. It was Ian’s sister, Amanda. She looked different from the pictures he’d seen of her. Older. Exhausted.