Chapter 2 The Burden of Healing

As soon as he reached the driver's side of the sedan, he placed the index and middle fingers of his left hand on her neck to check for a pulse, calming his nerves and holding his breath as he did so. Her skin was cold to the touch at first, and Taylor felt a crazed panic rising within him. He pulled his hand away, took a deep shaky breath, and tried again. As he waited to feel her heartbeat, his heart sinking with every passing moment, he suddenly felt it and sighed with relief, there it is, he thought, his heart beating fast. She's not dead! Thank God, she's not dead! He stumbled away from the near-crumpled vehicle and sat on the roadside, waiting for the ambulance to arrive. It had taken almost twenty minutes for the ambulance to show up and he had ridden with the injured lady, to the hospital. Throughout the ride, the same words kept repeating in his head, and they were in his head right now as he looked down at the woman gazing at him with hazy eyes. What am I going to do? What is my father going to do? He brooded.

Karen lay in bed taking in the stranger in front of her. The giant man seemed to be in his late twenties, broad-shouldered, deep blue eyes like the ocean, but with an edge to them, a broad forehead, ending in a strong brow. He had a Roman nose, square jaw, and, Karen squinted, her head hurting from all the sensory stimulation, yes…heart-shaped lips. She knew those lips, she knew that face, those eyes…they had stared back at her enough times for her to know. That is Taylor Grey! The socialite! Why is he here?! She blinked at him, still unable to speak. He leaned in closer and Karen could smell his cologne, something made of wood, and…is that bergamot? “Hello? Can you hear me?” his deep silky voice hit her ears. She tried to say 'Yes' but again found that she could not move. Taylor leaned in a little bit closer, his voice gentle but with a hint of worry, "If you can hear me, blink once.” Karen blinked once, slowly. “Thank God,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper as he gazed at her, his ocean eyes dark and soulful. “Okay, hold on, I'll get the doctor,” Taylor said as he disappeared from her sight. She heard the door open and shut. Karen closed her eyes, and without realizing it, she drifted off.

As she closed her eyes, Taylor came back in with a doctor at his side. After the doctor checked her, he and Taylor left the room. “What’s the next step doctor?” Taylor demanded from the doctor as they stood just outside Karen’s room. “We will keep a close eye on her Mr. Grey, don’t worry. You also need to get some rest. Have you had a checkup since last week?” The doctor asked, professional concern on his face. “That’s not important,” Taylor responded, his voice strained.

A few hours later, Karen woke to the sounds of a heated conversation going on at the foot of her bed. She opened her eyes and instantly saw two men facing off against each other. She recognized Taylor immediately. She gazed at the other man, taking him in as the two continued their argument without so much as a glance in her direction. The other man was a middle-aged man, fifty-something, with black hair and hard, deep blue eyes. A wide brow and a strong chin, his mouth was set in a tight line and his brow was furrowed. Both men were of the same height and almost the same build. Taylor was slightly slenderer than the man who was standing opposite him. Karen suddenly realized who the other man was. That’s his father – Marshal Grey! He’s a quiet billionaire! It’s Taylor who’s always in the news, a real party boy! Why are the Greys here?! What is going on?! She thought to herself, as she struggled to hear what the head of one of the most powerful families in the city was discussing so passionately at her bedside. Marshal Grey grabbed Taylor by his shoulder and pointed his index finger in Taylor's face. “What have you done now?” He shouted, the rage in his voice, palpable. “I get a call in the middle of my meeting! And there are press people outside this hospital right now! I have lawyers on standby to swing this thing and we had to lock down all cyber news and gossip outlets.” Taylor shook his father’s hand off him and turned his gaze away, his breathing becoming increasingly rough. “Are you listening to me?!” Marshal growled, his voice low, controlled. Taylor gazed back at his father with blazing eyes, his lips tightly closed. Marshal Grey threw his pointed finger at Karen, lying in her hospital bed, unaware that she was awake and could hear what was being said. “Did you do this? Is this your handiwork? Or did SHE hit YOU?!” Taylor, tired and stressed from the accident, bit back at his father, “What do you think?” He growled, his voice low as he and his father stared each other down. Marshal brought his index finger back into Taylor's face. “If this person dies, you wait, you just wait.” He straightened himself and backed away from Taylor. Taylor glanced over at Karen and noticed that her eyes were open, though they were heavy-lidded; probably from the drugs, he thought distractedly, the emerald green irises of her eyes shining brightly. “She’s awake!” Taylor said, excitedly, and he walked briskly out of the room to find a doctor. Marshal stood at the entrance of the room and stared at Karen. Karen turned her gaze briefly to his, her eyes accusatory, her lips tight, her expression betraying the fact that she had heard at least part of the conversation between him and his son, before her eyes closed again.

The first few days after Karen woke fully, were the hardest. “Miss Preston, how are you feeling today?” Doctor Spencer, the honey-brown-eyed doctor asked. He was her attending physician. She secretly called him Doctor Bear, because of the honey color of his eyes and his tall and sturdy build. He made her feel safe. “I’m not sure…I kind of…it feels like I’m outside my body, looking at all this,” she glanced down at her heavily bandaged right arm and her left leg, in a thick cast and with four metal pins inserted. Her head was still fully wrapped in bandages. “I mean, how…” her voice choked, and she stopped talking. “It’s okay Karen, you will be alright,” Doctor Spencer said quickly, placing a hand on her shoulder. He looked sideways at the nurse beside him and nodded once. The nurse ticked a box on the chart she was holding. “We are taking good care of you here and you really have nothing to worry about.” “Nothing to worry about? How do I work with this...? How do I…,” she asked, tears starting to well up in her eyes as she stared at her injuries.