Chapter 6
Adrian showed no response.
Frustrated, I scratched my head and continued my desperate attempts. I howled, roared, and even whimpered–you name it, I tried it all. Still, no movement.
I began to suspect he could sense I was pretending.
Turning my head, I noticed Amanda standing in the doorway, her gaze fixed on me, her expression both amused and bewildered.
“Amanda, is something wrong?” I asked, feeling a bit self–conscious.
“Miss Greer, you‘ re truly fearless. Who else would think of such… innovative methods?” Amanda said, struggling to suppress her laughter.
I instantly realized how I must have looked -shouting “Honey, it hurts so much!”
Chapter 6
like a lunatic. Even a stray cat wouldn‘ t make such an embarrassing racket. My cheeks burned as I stammered out an explanation, assuring Amanda that I wasn’t losing my mind.
To my surprise, Amanda‘ s face lit up.
“Mr. Winslow‘ s regaining
consciousness? Quickly, keep calling out
for him!”
Her enthusiasm was encouraging, but after being caught in such a ridiculous act, I couldn’t bring myself to continue my performance. Besides, Adrian remained unresponsive.
However, I wasn’t about to give up. Leaning closer to Amanda, I whispered a plan into her ear. Her eyes widened with understanding, and she hurried off.
I returned to Adrian‘ s side, adjusting the camera and speaking softly. “Adrian, come on. Don’t be lazy. I know you‘ re in there. Show me something–anything…
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Before I could finish, the door burst open
with a loud bang.
Amanda stormed in, wielding a kitchen
knife, slamming it dramatically against the doorframe.
I screamed in sheer terror, gripping Adrian’s hand tightly. “Who are you? What do you want?” My voice shook as I huddled closer to him, crying out incoherently.
Amanda’s roleplaying was Oscar–worthy as she banged on the door with all her strength.
“I’ll give you anything–just don’t hurt me!” I wailed, tears streaming down my face, fully committing to the scene.
And then, I felt it.
Adrian‘ s fingers twitched against my hand.
At first, I thought I was imagining it. But no, the movement became deliberate. His
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fingers tightened weakly around mine.
“Adrian, save me!” I shouted, my heart racing.
His grip grew firmer, and I watched in amazement as his eyelids began to tremble. His lashes quivered as if he was battling to open his eyes.
“Adrian, don’t stop now! You‘ re doing it!” I encouraged, tears of joy welling up.
Though faint, his movements conveyed an incredible effort. I could almost feel his desire to protect me, to wake up for my sake.
Amanda continued her dramatic act, slamming the door with renewed vigor.
For a moment, it felt like a miracle was just within reach.
But suddenly, Adrian’s fingers loosened, his eyelids stilled, and he fell silent once more–motionless, like a sleeping prince returning to his endless slumber.
The disappointment hit me like a wave.
I sighed deeply, gently releasing his hand.
“That’s okay, Adrian. You‘ ve done enough for now,” I murmured, smoothing
his blanket.
Amanda lowered the knife, looking equally dejected. “Miss Greer, he almost made it. Maybe tomorrow, he’ll try again.”
I leaned close to Adrian and whispered,
“The bad person is gone now.
Everything’s fine. You don‘ t have to
worry.
Perhaps it was just my imagination, but Adrian seemed to relax ever so slightly.
Amanda suddenly suggested, “Miss Greer, you‘ re working wonders here. Why don’t you sleep in the same bed with him? Who knows? It might help him recover faster.
Her words made me pause. The idea sounded absurd, yet strangely plausible. If I truly was Adrian’s “lucky charm,”
maybe staying close to him would help.
After a moment of hesitation, I nodded. “Why not? He’s freshly bathed, and I don‘ t mind.”
Amanda grinned and headed off to prepare supper for me. Meanwhile, I sent the footage of Adrian‘ s movements to Abigail.
Moments later, my phone buzzed with a video call. Abigail‘ s face appeared, her flawless features marred by tearful joy.
“Miss Greer, is it true? Did Adrian really move?” she asked, her voice trembling.
“Yes, Abigail. His fingers moved, and his eyes almost opened. He’s trying,” I replied with confidence.
Abigail broke down, sobbing
uncontrollably. “I don‘ t understand why he reacted to you. I’ve visited him every month, but he’s never shown any signs of waking up. You‘ re truly a miracle worker, Miss Greer. My family owes you
everything.”
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Her gratitude left me feeling warm and accomplished. “Maybe he just needs more time. Don’t lose hope. Come see him yourself.”
“I’ll be there tomorrow! Please, keep talking to him and recording everything,‘ Abigail pleaded.
I agreed, watching her tearful face fade from the screen as the call ended.
Afterward, I returned to Adrian‘ s side, pondering my own emotions. The joy of helping him stirred something unfamiliar
in me.
Still, a lingering doubt crept into my mind. I’d come here for money, not love. Being married to a man in a vegetative state meant freedom–a life of luxury with no strings attached. But if Adrian woke up, what would that mean for me?
I studied his peaceful face, his faint, masculine features softened in sleep.
“Adrian, you’d better stay asleep,” I
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whispered, half–joking. “You‘ re the perfect husband this way.
Deep down, I wasn’t sure if I meant it.
For now, it didn’t matter. It was time to be a good person–for once.
