Breaking Mr. Cold (Giselle and Donovan) novel Chapter 313

Every extra second Donovan remained in a coma was pure torture for Giselle.

Thoughts of the future—what would happen when he woke up, and whether they'd find a way back to each other—were the furthest thing from her mind.

She was too exhausted to rehash the past or even dwell on the specifics of the accident. All that existed was the unbearable weight of the present.

Donovan's coma weighed on Giselle's mind. All she wanted was for him to wake up safe and sound—not in a vegetative state, not with brain damage, and not with memory loss or paralysis.

If she could have traded places, she would have in a heartbeat. She would rather have been the one struck by the car—the one fighting for her life in that hospital bed—than be left waiting helplessly outside.

In the following days, the Kanes came to visit every day. Dorothea, in particular, kept watch almost constantly.

She seemed to have aged overnight. Now, she was too weary to muster any reproach, even at the sight of Giselle.

After several days of such agony, the doctors finally brought good news. "Congratulations, Mr. Kane has just woken up. He's pulled through the worst of it. He can be moved to a regular ward if he remains stable after another week of observation."

Hearing that, a wave of relief washed over Giselle like a tide. Finally, she could relax.

"Can we visit him now? I want to see him right away!" Dorothea said. She almost couldn't contain herself.

"Yes," the doctor replied, "But only three people are allowed in at a time."

Naturally, the closest family members—Ethan, Zachary, and Dorothea—went in first. Giselle could only wait outside in a corner.

Under normal circumstances, the staff would never have permitted a person of her standing to enter. Donovan's ward. However, Tony was one of Donovan's attending doctors.

After she called him with her request, he quietly arranged for her to be let in.

Walking into the private, spacious ICU, Giselle soon saw Donovan lying motionless in the hospital bed.

Each heavy step she took brought her closer, and with every inch, her heart pounded faster, her breath becoming tight and shallow.

There he was, lying motionless with his eyes closed. Tubes were attached to his body.

Donovan's once handsome face was drained of all color and devoid of any sign of life. He looked almost like a corpse, the only sign of life coming from the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor beside him.