Chapter 8 - THE RELAPSE AND THE RESOLVE
The wedding was small, rushed, and entirely private, signed into existence in the living room of the penthouse.
But the stress took its toll. Three days after they signed the papers, Sloan collapsed again.
This time, Griffin was there to catch her.
The rush back to the hospital was a nightmare he had to relive. Dr. Thorne, whom Griffin had flown in and kept on retainer at an exorbitant cost, ordered immediate scans.
“The coiling on the aneurysm shifted,” Dr. Thorne explained gravely, pointing to the glowing MRI monitors. “We need to do a full craniotomy to clip it permanently. It’s highly invasive. There are risks.”
“What kind of risks?” Griffin demanded, holding Sloan’s cold hand.
“Memory loss, motor function impairment… or she might not wake up.”
Sloan squeezed Griffin’s hand, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Griffin, if I don’t make it—”
“Don’t say that.” His voice broke, the billionaire facade completely crumbling, revealing just a terrified man. “You don't get to run away from me again, Sloan. We just found each other.”
“Tell them,” she whispered, crying now. “Tell the girls I love them. And promise me… promise me you’ll protect them from Arthur.”
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“I’ll protect them,” he vowed, pressing a desperate kiss to her forehead as the nurses began to wheel her away. “And I’ll be right here when you wake up. I love you, Sloan. I’ve always loved you.”
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