He Paid Five Million to Cut Ties, Then Came Crawling Back Chapter 05

He Paid Five Million to Cut Ties, Then Came Crawling Back Chapter 05

I woke up in a hospital.

My hand was bandaged, an IV running into my arm.

A man was sitting by the bed.

He wore an impeccably tailored black suit. He looked like he belonged in a boardroom, not sitting beside a hospital bed.

“Graham…?”

He looked up.

“You’re awake.”

Graham Calloway. We’d gone to high school together.

He was the only kid in our town who’d ever matched me grade for grade.

I’d gone into art. He’d gone into medicine.

Word was he’d become one of the best orthopedic surgeons in the country. I never thought I’d run into him like this.

“How did you…”

“Your shop door was open.” That was all he gave me.

“Thank you.” I meant it more than I’d meant anything in a long time.

Without him, I probably would have died on that floor.

He didn’t say anything. His eyes stayed on my hand, and the crease

—

between his brows deepened.

“What happened to your hand?”

“It’s an old injury.” I tried to brush it off.

“This isn’t just an old injury.” He cut me off. “You’ve got nerve damage, and now there’s a secondary infection on top of it. Another few hours and you might’ve lost the hand for good.”

He wasn’t softening it for me.

My heart sank.

“One more thing.” He picked up an empty pill bottle from the bedside table. “How long have you been taking these?”

“Years,” I whispered.

“Who prescribed these for you?”

“A friend.”

His voice went flat with disgust. “Malpractice.”

“These pills cause severe dependence and neurotoxicity. Taking them long-term… your body is literally breaking down from the inside”.

I froze.

Bennett had gotten me those pills. He’d told me they were the best money could buy.

Graham read my expression and didn’t press.

He stood. “Get some sleep. I’ll take care of the paperwork.”

—

The room emptied out. Just me again.

I stared at the ceiling, and the whole shape of the last eight years rearranged itself.

What I’d called love was just obligation.

What I’d thought was care was actually poison.

The person I’d given everything to had been destroying me the whole time.

Something in me went cold and stayed cold.

Whatever was left of what I’d felt for Bennett was gone.

I stayed in the hospital for a week.

Graham came to see me every day.

He wasn’t a talker, but he showed up. Every single day.

He’d bring home-cooked meals, sit with me while I ate, and talk about nothing in particular.

Most of the time, we didn’t even talk.

But the quiet felt safe. I hadn’t felt safe in a long time.

He was there the morning I checked out.

“What’s next for you?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

The flower shop didn’t feel like shelter anymore. It felt like a crime

—

scene.

“I have a suggestion,” he said.

“What?”

“Come with me to Kingswell.”

I stared at him.

“My team is running a nerve regeneration study.” He held my gaze.

“Your hand…” He paused. “There might still be a chance.”

Hope.

I’d forgotten what that word even felt like.

Every doctor I’d seen in eight years had told me the same thing. The damage was permanent.

“Don’t overthink it.” He read me like an open book. “New city. New start. That’s all it has to be.”

A new start.

Something stirred in a part of me I thought had gone numb.

I looked at Graham. Really looked at him. His eyes were steady, calm. No pity. Just patience.

I nodded.

“Okay.”