Chapter 4 - The Awakening
[Sarah]
"Mrs. Pierce?" Doctor's gentle prompt brought me back to the present. "I know this is a lot to process. The IVF procedure can be overwhelming, especially for someone your age."
I straightened in my chair, channeling the poise Elizabeth Pierce had been drilling into me. "I understand the process, Doctor. When can we begin?"
She studied me over her rimless glasses. "We can start the hormone treatments immediately. However..." She hesitated, glancing at Theodore's medical file. "There are some unusual patterns in Mr. Pierce's latest neurological scans that we should discuss."
Before she could elaborate, my phone buzzed – Mrs. Thompson's daily update on Theodore's vital signs. "I'm sorry, but I need to head back to the penthouse. Could we continue this tomorrow?"
The drive home gave me time to collect myself. The setting sun painted Manhattan's towers in shades of gold and amber, a view that still felt surreal from the back of the Pierce family's Mercedes. Three months ago, I'd been taking the T between MIT classes. Now I was married to one of New York's most powerful tech CEOs, preparing to undergo IVF with his frozen sperm while he lay in a coma.
The penthouse was quiet when I arrived, save for the steady beeping of medical monitors. The night nurse nodded respectfully before stepping out, leaving me alone with Theodore. His latest physical therapy session had left his skin dry – a detail that would have mortified Elizabeth Pierce, who insisted on maintaining appearances even in a coma.
I approached the bedside, slipping off my sweater, leaving me in a silk camisole that felt soothing against my skin. The warmth of the room was comforting, and as I perched on the edge of the bed, I poured a small amount of lotion into my hands, rubbing them together until the lotion warmed. Then I leaned in, starting with his forearm, moving slowly, carefully, as if handling a sleeping lion. My touch was gentle, my fingers trailing along the defined muscles of his arms. For a man who’d been out of commission for so long, he still felt strong, every inch reminding me of the power he once wielded.
"Your shoulders are pretty impressive, Mr. Pierce," I murmured softly, half expecting him to smirk and tell me to mind my business. But he said nothing. Of course he didn’t. I laughed under my breath, shaking my head. "You know, I’m not exactly the type who falls for a pretty face, but you do make it difficult not to appreciate the view." My voice was light, teasing—maybe even a touch flirty. I’d never spoken to him this way before. But tonight, with everything that lay ahead, I needed to find some kind of normalcy, even if it was one-sided banter.
I ran my fingertips along his bicep, feeling the solidity beneath the softness of his skin, and let out a quiet sigh. "I bet you used to intimidate everyone with just one glare," I said, leaning forward to smooth some lotion over his hand. "I can almost picture you strolling into a board meeting, cool as ice, and making grown men sweat."
A sudden change in the monitor's rhythm made me pause. As I moved to his other arm, something tugged at the edge of my awareness—a subtle shift, so slight I almost missed it. I paused, brow furrowing. The air felt charged, different. My gaze flicked up to his face.
Steel-gray eyes snapped open, locking onto mine with laser focus. Not the vacant stare from our wedding night – this was pure, alert consciousness.
"Who are you?"
His voice was hoarse from disuse but carried the same commanding presence that marked every Pierce Technologies press conference I'd watched. My heart thundered in my chest, and every nerve felt electrified. This was the man everyone had warned me about, the man who built empires and inspired fear. And here I was, caught literally red-handed, slathering lotion on his arm like some lovestruck nursemaid.
"I'll get Mrs. Thompson," I managed, nearly running from the room.
The next thirty minutes passed in a blur of activity. Mrs. Thompson appeared with remarkable speed, followed by a flood of medical personnel and security teams. Elizabeth Pierce arrived in a whirlwind of Chanel perfume and tears, while Nathan hung back with an expression that couldn't quite hide his dismay.
"A miracle," the head neurologist declared after a battery of tests. "Mr. Pierce's cognitive functions appear completely intact."
Elizabeth sobbed, "My boy, my brilliant boy..."
The emotion proved too much – she swayed on her feet. Nathan, ever the opportunist, immediately stepped forward to support her. "Let me help you to the sitting room, Grandmother."
I pressed myself against the wall as they passed, trying to become invisible. But there was no hiding from Theodore Pierce's penetrating gaze. He pushed himself upright in bed, ignoring the medical team's protests. Even in a hospital gown, he radiated the authority of a CEO who'd built a tech empire.
"Everyone out," he ordered. The room cleared with military precision, leaving only Mrs. Thompson hovering uncertainly by the door.
"Who is she?" Theodore demanded, jerking his chin in my direction. His voice was stronger now, edges sharp enough to cut.
Mrs. Thompson's usually unflappable composure wavered. "Sir, this is Sarah Sullivan. Your... wife."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. Theodore's expression hardened into something that made his unconscious state seem warm by comparison.
"Get out."