Struck by the Billionaire's Love

Chapter 4: Reliance on a Stranger

Knock. Knock.

“Have a good nap, Mrs. Johnson?" The nurse from earlier approaches Eshe's bed as she stirs awake.

“Yeah. Thanks. How long's it been?" Eshe rubs her eyes before pushing the incline button to sit up and look at the nurse.

“Oh, um, about three hours, I'd say? It's 8:09 pm right now." The nurse glances at her watch before closing the curtain shut behind her.

“We called your husband and he said he's on his way. I'm going to remove the electrodes and IV, then I will have you sign your discharge papers." The nurse lowers Eshe's gown and gently removes the adhesives from around her chest and throws them in the trash. Eshe covers herself up upon completion.

“After that, you will be escorted to your sisters' location via wheelchair since the morphine will be in your system for another hour or so. You won't be able to stay long because visiting hours are over, but we're making an exception due to the circumstances." The nurse removes the IV and bandages Eshe's arm before handing her the paperwork on a clipboard with a pen attached by a metal chain.

“Thank you. I really appreciate that. You've no idea," Eshe signs the highlighted areas with contentment. The nurse stoops to grab Eshe's personal property bags from under the bed and hands them to her before taking the clipboard.

“If you have a hard time getting dressed on your own, it's fine if you want to wait for your husband to get back. I know I would." The nurse giggles and winks at Eshe before exiting, closing the curtain and door behind her.

~ What a day. I can't believe it's been three hours! And he's actually coming back? Why can't I shake this guy?!~

Eshe pushes herself to get dressed quickly, fighting through the medicated high as she attempts to stand.

~ Nope. Looks like I gotta shimmy my bottoms up while laying in bed. Definitely not sneaking out of here on my own. At least he's easy on the eyes. I definitely won the lottery of getting hit by the sexiest man in Chicago. ~

Excited at the successful completion of getting fully dressed on her own, she sits back on the edge of the bed and drops her shoes to the floor.

Knock. Knock.

“Are you decent?" Damien's voice penetrates the room from behind the curtain.

“I'm dressed. I just need help with my shoes." Eshe bites her bottom lip as Damien forces the curtain open. She spots a bag in his hand as the nurse enters behind him pushing in an empty wheelchair.

“I've got her from here, thank you very much for all of your care and assistance today, Nurse Karen." Damien nods to the nurse before taking control of the wheelchair and pushing it to Eshe's bedside.

“The pleasure was all mine, Mr. Johnson. Your wife is such a wonderful lady." The nurse smiles and exits.

“Here. This is yours," he extends a medium-sized, black bag to Eshe before setting the brakes on the chair then getting on his knee in front of her.

“What's this?" She asks, opening the bag and peering inside.

“It's literally what you asked for. A cell phone and a thousand dollars," he gently places the slip-on shoes one at a time on her feet. The bag falls from between Eshe's fingers and bounces off his hand before hitting the floor.

“What? How did– But you– I-I can't. This is too much." Flabbergast with her mouth slightly agape, she watches Damien pick up the bag and place the scattered contents back inside.

“It's my fault your phone is damaged, so I replaced it. As for the money, I honestly feel better knowing you can cover private transportation until you're fully healed since you don't want me to give you a ride. It's more for me than you, if that makes you feel better." He places the bag in her lap and stands up straight, smoothing the tie and button-up shirt against his hard, muscular body.

“But it's… Are you sure? This is a lot…" Eshe's gaze lingers as his hands caress his body, her eyes narrowing and lips pursing as she stares up at him in disbelief.

“Positive, now let's go. We must get to your sister before they change their mind. Can you stand?" He holds out his hand for her.

“Barely. That's why I couldn't get my shoes on." She mutters, clutching the bag. Damien bends to slide an arm around her back and under her thighs. She instinctively reaches behind the back of his neck to hold on.

~ I've always wanted to be held like this... How does he smell so good? And he's so warm… ~

Without hesitation her head nestles into the crook of his neck when he stands up straight, carrying her effortlessly in his arms to the chair.

“You know, this is a split second kind of move," he chuckles, “we don't really have 'get comfortable' kind of time." He turns his head to make eye contact with a toothy grin, Eshe's cheeks darkening as she smiles back bashfully. He gently sets her in the wheelchair.

“I grabbed the most upgraded version of the brand you already have with the largest memory, if that's any incentive to assure you that I can handle the expenses promised in the contract. The sooner you sign it, the better." He hangs her property bags on the handles of the wheelchair before grabbing a blanket from the bed and folding it in half to lay across her lap.

~ Oh yeah, that's right… He's only being so nice since he wants me to sign that thing. I can't say I don't enjoy the gifts and attention, though. ~

Eshe places her hands on top of the blanket covered bag in her lap and looks up at Damien.

“I have no idea how to get there from here," she confesses.

“Don't worry, I asked for directions when they gave me your medication." He pushes the chair, getting them to their destination through the winding halls of the hospital.

“I'm going to tell her you're my friend so it's easier on her. After cancer took my mom, dad raised the four of us by himself…" She pauses, Damian glancing down at her rigid body with an increasingly shallow breath.

“He was picking her up from school one day because she had a fever, and on the way to the doctor they got in a car accident. He died at the scene and she sustained a brain and spinal injury, leaving her with the mentality of a seven year old even though she's now twenty, and paralyzed from the waist down," Eshe informs Damien of the situation, her knuckles pale from gripping the blanket.

“Thank you for trusting me enough to share that. I will follow your lead and speak when spoken to." His soothing tone and reassuring support drowns out her worry as she takes a relaxing, deep breath. They turn the last corner that separates them from the section that her sister lives in.

“Eshe!" A female's voice echoes down the hall.