Chapter 158
~ Octavia ~
When my parents returned from speaking with Dr. Aris, their faces glowed with quiet relief. They confird what I already knew—I was being discharged today. After they carefully filled out the necessary paperwork and signed the discharge forms, the mont finally arrived. The sterile hospital room that had been my world for far too long was about to be left behind.
"I need to see Frederick before we leave," I told them softly.
They exchanged a gentle look and nodded without hesitation.
Frederick Flemington had beco a steady voice of reason and quiet strength in my life ever since I first t him. He had always treated with warmth and wisdom, offering guidance when everything around felt chaotic. Knowing he had been shot while trying to help rescue broke my heart in ways I couldn’t fully express. The image of him stepping in alongside Franklin and Clinton, risking everything for , was sothing I would carry with for the rest of my life.
I made my way to his private ward, pausing briefly at the door to steady my nerves before knocking. I expected Franklin to open it, but instead, the door swung open to reveal Briggs—one of Franklin’s most trusted bodyguards.
"Briggs?" I asked, surprised. "What are you doing here?"
"Mr. Flemington called before he left the hospital," Briggs explained in his calm, professional tone. "He asked to stay with his grandfather for security reasons. I’ve been assigned to watch over Senior Flemington until he wakes up."
"That’s good," I said, genuinely relieved. "Did Franklin ntion where he was going?"
"He headed back to the company to handle so work," Briggs replied.
I nodded, then stepped further into the room. My eyes imdiately found Frederick lying motionless in the bed, the oxygen mask secured over his nose and mouth, machines humming softly around him. The sight still stole my breath.
"Since you’re assigned to watch over him," I said, turning back to Briggs, "I hope I’m still allowed to visit."
"You’re Mr. Flemington’s wife, Mrs. Flemington," Briggs answered respectfully. "You’re on the approved list. I’ll allow visits unless Mr. Flemington specifically says otherwise."
"Thank you," I murmured.
"My pleasure, ma’am."
I stood there for a long mont, simply watching Frederick. The powerful man who had once commanded rooms with his presence now looked so fragile. Yet I refused to believe this was the end of his story.
"I’ll co by to visit him during the week," I told Briggs quietly.
"Understood, Mrs. Flemington."
All of Franklin’s staff still referred to as Mrs. Flemington. The title felt both familiar and strangely distant now. I gave Briggs a small nod and left the ward.
Back in my own room, my mother had already packed my belongings. She handed the bags to my father, who carried them out toward the car.
"How’s Frederick?" my mother asked gently.
"Still the sa," I shrugged, the sadness evident in my voice.
She and my father shared a sympathetic glance. "I pray he recovers soon," my mother whispered.
" too," I replied softly.
"What about Franklin?" my father asked. "I wanted to speak with him before we left."
"I didn’t see him. Only Briggs was there. Franklin asked him to stay with his grandfather."
"Okay," my father said. "Do you think your mother and I would be allowed to see him?"
"You’d have to ask Briggs, Franklin’s bodyguard" I told him.
When it was finally ti to leave, a nurse wheeled out of the hospital. My parents took a few minutes to visit Frederick under Briggs’ watchful supervision before we departed. The fresh air outside felt like freedom after weeks of confinent.
It was decided that I would stay with my parents in their cozy apartnt in Soho for the ti being. I agreed without hesitation—it felt right to be surrounded by their love and care while I continued healing.
The mont we stepped through the door of the apartnt, a familiar ball of white fur ca rushing toward .
"Hey, Nola!" I exclaid, crouching down carefully to greet my beloved cat. She owed loudly and rubbed against my legs, purring as if scolding for being away so long.
I stroked her soft white fur, smiling for the first ti in what felt like days. "I missed you too, girl."
"Do you need sothing to eat?" my mother asked, already moving toward the kitchen as my father set my bags on the coffee table.
"Yes, I’m famished," I admitted with a tired laugh.
"I thought as much," she chuckled warmly. "What would you like, honey?"
"Spaghetti Bolognese?" I suggested, tilting my head hopefully.
"Coming right up," she said and disappeared into the kitchen.
"Let’s get you settled in your room, kiddo," my father said, offering his arm for support. He helped to my old bedroom, the one I had grown up in. It felt strangely comforting to be back.
Once inside, he placed my bag on the trunk at the foot of the bed. "Are you okay now?"
"I’m comfortable," I nodded, sitting on the edge of the mattress. "Really."
"Are you sure? Do you need anything—water, extra pillows, maybe—"
"Dad, I’m fine," I interrupted gently, smiling. "I’m not the one who just flew back from Tennessee. You should get so rest."
He laughed softly. "Alright, kiddo. I’ll do that."
He headed toward the door but paused. "If you need anything at all, just call for or your mother."
"I will," I promised.
"I’ll let you know when dinner’s ready," he added, then leaned down to kiss the top of my head before leaving.
I set Nola down gently and lay back on the bed, staring at the familiar ceiling. The quiet of the room wrapped around like a blanket.
Should I call Franklin and let him know I’m ho now?
I turned onto my side, sighing deeply. The complicated tangle of emotions between us made even that simple thought feel heavy.
"Maybe not," I whispered to myself.
"ow," Nola replied, jumping onto the bed and curling up beside as if she completely agreed.
I reached out to stroke her fur again, letting out another long sigh. For the first ti in weeks, I was ho—but nothing felt simple anymore. The weight of everything that had happened, and everything still unresolved, pressed gently on my chest as I closed my eyes, grateful for the quiet comfort of my family and my cat.
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