Chapter 118
~ Octavia ~
The next morning, the hospital ward felt a little brighter than usual. An elderly man walked in with Franklin, his arms loaded with gifts: a woven basket overflowing with fresh fruits and vegetables, a stack of books and magazines, sleek new headphones, and a sealed container whose delicious aroma imdiately filled the room. My mother had left early to handle so errands and wouldn’t be back until later, so the nurse assigned to hovered quietly in the corner, keeping watch.
"Good morning, Octavia. How have you been?" the elderly man asked. His face looked faintly familiar, like a half-rembered dream, but I couldn’t place him.
"Good morning, sir. I’m doing well," I replied politely.
"Hey, Octavia," Franklin said softly as he stepped closer, a gentle smile curving his lips.
"Hey," I answered, returning the smile.
"It’s so good to see you awake," the older man continued. "Last ti I was here, you were unconscious and very pa—"
"Grandpa," Franklin cut in, a warning note in his voice.
"Grandpa?" I echoed, turning to Franklin in confusion.
"Yes," Franklin said, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Octavia, et my grandfather, Frederick Flemington. You knew him well before you lost your mory."
"Hello, Octavia. It’s — your grandfather-in-law. I’ve missed you so much," Frederick said warmly. He set the gifts down on the side table and pulled into a careful hug that caught off guard but felt surprisingly comforting.
"Now, now, Grandpa," Franklin scolded gently. "What did I say before we ca here?"
"That I shouldn’t let my emotions get the best of and that I mustn’t make Octavia feel uncomfortable," Frederick recited with a sheepish grin.
"Good. Because right now you’re letting your emotions run wild and you’re making her very uncomfortable," Franklin said.
"Well, not really," I said, smiling as I pulled back from the hug. I turned to Frederick. "He seems like a really nice old man."
"Old man?" Frederick frowned, pretending to be wounded.
"Oh, I’m sorry... I didn’t an..." I started, but his hearty laugh interrupted .
"Oh, don’t mind , my dear. I was only joking! Call an old man all you want. It’s what I am, right?" He waved a hand dismissively, still chuckling.
"Grandpa," Franklin muttered, though a small smile tugged at his own lips.
"I’m sorry about that," Franklin whispered to .
"It’s all right," I assured him. "Like I said, he seems like a really nice man."
"Don’t forget to add the ’old’ in there," Frederick teased, and I couldn’t help laughing along with him.
"Grandpa," Franklin scolded again, but there was no real heat in it.
"Don’t scold . Octavia is enjoying my company," Frederick declared, turning to . "Aren’t you, dear?"
"I really am," I nodded, still smiling.
"Good." His eyes sparkled with mischief. "My grandfather brought you gifts—so of them completely unnecessary, but he insisted," Franklin said as he arranged the items neatly on the dresser.
"Thank you very much, Frederick," I said sincerely.
"You’re welco, my dear. I’d do anything to brighten your day." He studied for a mont. "Have you eaten yet?"
"Not yet. The nurse was about to bring in my break..."
"I brought breakfast for you," he interrupted cheerfully. "Much better and far more nutritious. It might even help boost your energy so those lost mories can find their way ho."
Frederick was indeed a funny old man—warm, dramatic, and impossible not to like.
"I guess so," I said slowly, glancing at Franklin.
"You know, if you’d rather eat the hospital food, that’s perfectly fine," Franklin began.
"Nonsense!" Frederick exclaid. "No in-law of mine is choosing bland hospital mush over this delicious al I brought." He turned to with pleading eyes. "You will eat what we brought, right?"
"Grandpa, you’re forcing her. Let her speak," Franklin sighed.
"No, it’s fine, Franklin," I said quickly. "I prefer the al you both brought. Just slling it tells it’s going to be far better than anything the hospital serves."
"See?" Frederick shot Franklin a triumphant look. Franklin only sighed and fetched the adjustable hospital tray, setting it across my lap. He arranged the food carefully: golden blueberry pancakes, a thick banana smoothie, and a chilled bottle of water. The aroma was heavenly.
"There you go," he said, handing a fork.
"How did you know blueberry pancakes are my favorite?" I asked, looking between them.
"Or let guess," I added, turning to Franklin. "I told you before the accident?"
"Not exactly," Franklin replied. "You told Olga."
"Olga," I repeated. The na tugged at sothing familiar, like an echo in an empty room. "Who is she?"
"She’s the housekeeper at the estate. The two of you were very close," Franklin explained.
"We were?" I asked, surprised.
"Yes," Frederick chid in dramatically. "It made a little jealous, wishing my granddaughter-in-law would be closer to than to our housekeeper." He clutched his chest in mock heartbreak, and I burst out laughing. Even Franklin couldn’t hold back a chuckle.
"Even though I can’t rember the relationship I had with Olga, I’m sorry it made you jealous, Frederick," I said, still smiling.
"Oh, it’s fine, my dear. Don’t mind ," he assured with a wink.
I leaned toward Franklin and lowered my voice. "It is safe to say your grandfather is a drama queen."
"Touché," he whispered back, eyes dancing.
"Hello? I’m right here—I heard every word!" Frederick protested, and I laughed again, the sound light and genuine.
"Okay, ti to eat up," Franklin said, nodding toward the tray.
I took a forkful of the pancakes and let out a pleased hum. "This is delicious."
"Didn’t I tell you?" Frederick winked.
"She sends her regards, by the way," he added after a mont. "Olga misses you terribly."
"Who? Olga?" I asked.
"Yes. She’s been worried sick since she heard about the accident."
"That’s so kind. Does she know I’m awake now?"
"She does. She was overjoyed. That’s why she insisted on making this breakfast herself—prepared with love and care."
"That’s incredibly sweet of her. Would it be all right if you visited again and brought her along? I’d love to thank her in person."
"Of course, dear. I’ll make sure of it," Frederick promised.
His phone rang from inside his suit jacket. He glanced at the screen and sighed. "I have to take this. I’ll be right back."
"Okay," Franklin and I said at the sa ti.
As soon as Frederick stepped out, I continued eating. Franklin perched at the foot of the bed, watching with soft eyes.
"So," he began, "how was your night? Did you sleep well?"
"What do you think?" I paused, eting his gaze.
"It wasn’t good?" he asked, suddenly uncertain.
"I dreamt about you last night," I said quietly.
"Oh." Surprise flickered across his face.
"Oh?" I quirked an eyebrow.
"I’m sorry—you just caught off guard," he admitted, scooting closer until he was right beside .
"So you really dreamt about , huh?" His voice dropped to a husky murmur that sent a pleasant shiver down my spine.
"Mmm-hmm," I shrugged, trying to play it cool even as warmth flooded my cheeks.
"You know, I think your new nickna should be Tomato, because damn, you blush a lot," he teased.
I blushed even harder. "Maybe I should have given you that nickna the mont I fell in love with you," he added softly.
"Don’t even try giving that la nickna," I warned, though I was smiling.
"Wow, how feisty we are this morning," he grinned.
"I’m serious, Franklin." I wasn’t angry—just flustered.
"Okay, noted." He gave a thumbs-up. I rolled my eyes.
"So what would you like to call you?" he asked.
"Octavia," I answered simply.
"Yeah... and what else?"
"I don’t know," I shrugged, taking another bite.
"Well, how about my queen? It suits you perfectly because I want you to be my queen, right by my side. Or my sunshine—because you light up every single one of my days. How about those?"
"Octavia is better," I insisted, though I couldn’t stop the blush from deepening.
"Nah, those two nicknas I picked are way better," he said. I looked down, cheeks burning.
"You’re so beautiful," he murmured after a mont, staring at with an intensity that made my pulse quicken.
I stared back. Was I really attracted to the man who claid to be my husband? He was undeniably handso—broad shoulders filling out his tailored suit, the faint outline of muscle visible beneath the crisp fabric. He looked strong, sexy, and completely focused on .
"What are you thinking about?" he asked, that husky tone returning.
"N-nothing," I gulped.
He leaned in slowly and cupped my cheek with warm fingers. "It’s sothing, my queen," he whispered.
I set my fork down and wrapped my arms around his neck. We were inches away from kissing when the door swung open.
"Franklin, my boy, I’m needed at..."
Frederick stopped mid-sentence as he took in our closeness. I buried my face against Franklin’s suit jacket, mortified.
"What is it, Grandpa?" Franklin asked, clearly annoyed by the interruption.
"Did I interrupt sothing?" Frederick asked, a knowing smirk spreading across his face.
"No, you didn’t," Franklin lied smoothly.
"What did you want to say?" Franklin pressed.
"I was about to say I’m eting the Blakeleys for an intercontinental breakfast at the Olive Grove restaurant in Bradford. Care to join ?"
"And leave Octavia here alone? No thank you—I’ll pass," Franklin replied. He turned to . "I’ll stay here with my wife before I head to the office."
"Good choice. I wasn’t surprised you’d turn down," Frederick said, still smiling. "I’m very happy you’re awake, my dear. Franklin has been lost without you." He poked his head closer. "I’ll see you later today—or tomorrow if not today. I hope you keep getting better."
"Thank you very much, Frederick."
"My pleasure. Enjoy your day, dear."
"You too," I said.
"See you later, Grandpa."
"Yeah... later." Frederick gave us one last mischievous wink and left.
After the door clicked shut, I let out a breath. "Well, that was... awkward."
"Nah, it wasn’t," Franklin shrugged.
"Your grandfather just walked in on us about to kiss," I reminded him.
"I know. To him it’s not awkward at all."
"Well, to it was," I muttered.
"Oh, co on, sunshine." He grinned.
"So you’re really going to use those nicknas," I said, half-protesting, half-pleased.
"Yeah."
"What if I have no mory of them?"
"Then I’ll remind you — every single day," he promised.
I reached up, cupped his cheek, and kissed him first. He responded instantly, one hand gently cradling the back of my bandaged head as the kiss deepened. A soft moan slipped from my lips. The world narrowed to the warmth of his mouth and the steady beat of his heart against mine.
Then he pulled back abruptly.
"What’s wrong?" I asked, frowning.
"I have to control myself... otherwise..." He glanced down. A very obvious bulge strained against the front of his suit trousers.
"Can’t make love to you while you’re still recovering—especially not in a hospital bed," he said, voice rough with restraint.
I pouted.
"Don’t give that look. I want it too—believe . But I won’t risk hurting you. I’m taking every precaution so you can get better."
The sincerity in his eyes lted any protest I had. "Fine," I sighed.
"Thank you." He leaned in and kissed my forehead.
"My secretary has probably been trying to reach ," he muttered, pulling out his phone. The screen stayed dark. "Damn it."
"What?"
"My phone died. I forgot to charge it last night."
"Oh... sorry."
"It’s fine. Do you have a charger?"
"I don’t, but you can use my mom’s—she left it behind." I pointed to the socket across the room.
"Oh, thank you." He plugged it in, waited a minute, then powered the phone on. His brow furrowed as he listened to a voicemail. When he finished, he looked up at .
"I’ve got to go, baby."
"Work calling?" I asked.
"Yeah, but I’ll be back as soon as I can. The nurse will stay with you. If you need anything, just tell her, okay?"
I nodded. "You promise you’ll co back soon?"
"I promise." He walked to the doorway, then turned back, crossed the room in two strides, and kissed again—slow, tender, full of promise. "I love you."
Then he was gone, leaving alone with the quiet hum of the machines and the swirl of my thoughts.
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