Chapter 2 - The Awakening
Three days later, I opened my eyes.
The low hum of the ICU monitors welcomed me back to reality. The physical pain was a dull, throbbed ache deep in my abdomen, controlled by a PCA pump, but my mind was razor-sharp. The haze of labor was gone. In its place was a cold, impenetrable clarity.
When Cameron walked into the room holding a bouquet of white lilies, he looked withered. Deep dark circles carved under his eyes, and his designer coat was rumpled.
"Amelia..." His voice broke, and he stepped toward my bed, reaching out a trembling hand. "Thank God. The doctors said you might not wake up... Amelia, I was so scared."
I slowly turned my head and looked at him. There were no tears in my eyes. No anger. Just a vast, empty vacuum.
"Where is my son?" I asked. My voice was raspy from the intubation tube, but every syllable carried the weight of iron.
"He's in the neonatal step-down unit," Cameron said hastily, leaning in. "He's healthy, Amelia. Ten pounds, two ounces. He's strong. Just like you. I... I brought flowers."
"Take them out," I said coldly. "And take your hands off my bed."
Cameron flinched as if I had struck him. "Amelia, please. I know you're upset about how the delivery went, but I made a clinical judgment—"
"You turned off my epidural," I said, my gaze locking onto his eyes until he looked away. "You ignored uterine distress. You ignored a ten-pound fetal estimate. You restrained me. You let your intern frame me for her own mistake, and you used my body as a punishment."
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"I was trying to keep control of the room!" Cameron snapped, his defensiveness instinctively flaring up before he caught himself. "Sophie said you attacked her—"
"I am the Chief of Emergency Medicine, Cameron," I interrupted smoothly. "And as of this morning, I have requested my legal team and the Chief of Staff. Get out of my room."
