Chapter 5 - The Morning After the Storm
Morning sunlight broke over the Seattle skyline, casting a golden hue across the private recovery room at Harborview Medical Center. The clinical chill of the night had been replaced by the warm, steady hum of central heating and the quiet shuffling of hospital staff checking vitals.
Sloan was awake now, sitting up slightly against her propped pillows. The bandage on her head still throbbed, but the IV fluids had restored some color to her cheeks.
Hazel and Iris were wide awake, sitting at the foot of her bed, swinging their legs back and forth while sharing a box of hospital-provided graham crackers.
Standing by the window with a paper cup of black coffee in his hand was Griffin. He hadn't left the room all night. He had spent the hours between three and seven in the morning pacing silently, talking in hushed tones to medical specialists, and ensuring that Sloan was given the absolute best private suite the hospital had to offer.
The door clicked open, and Dr. Harrison, a kind-faced neurologist with silver hair, stepped inside with a clipboard.
"Good morning, Ms. Callaway. How are we feeling today?" the doctor asked, flashing a reassuring smile.
"Like I got hit by a freight train, Doctor," Sloan admitted dryly, adjusting her blanket. "When can I get out of here?"
"Technically, you need at least twenty-four hours of observation for the concussion," Dr. Harrison said, flipping a page on his chart. "However, given your test results and the fact that your vitals are completely stable, I'm willing to discharge you by this afternoon under one strict condition: absolute bed rest for at least three days, with zero computer work, zero architectural drawings, and someone to take care of you and the girls."
Griffin turned away from the window, tossing his empty coffee cup into the recycling bin. "Consider it handled, Doctor. They're coming home with me."
Sloan’s head snapped toward him, her eyes widening. "Griffin, wait. I can't just move into your penthouse."
"It's not a request, Sloan," Griffin said, walking over to the side of the bed with a calm, immovable authority. "Your duplex has stairs everywhere, you have no food in the fridge except half a grilled cheese sandwich from yesterday, and you collapsed from sheer exhaustion. You are coming to my home. Both of you—all three of you."
"We have school," Hazel pointed out around a mouthful of graham cracker.
"My private driver will take you to school in a limousine with tinted windows, Hazel," Griffin replied smoothly, a faint hint of a smile touching the corners of his lips. "And he'll pick you up every afternoon."
Iris narrowed her eyes, studying Griffin just like her mother used to do when she was suspicious of a design flaw. "Are you rich?"
Griffin chuckled—a deep, resonant sound that made Sloan’s heart skip a beat despite herself. "Yes, Iris. I suppose I am."
"Can we have a dog?" Iris asked instantly.
"You can have a dozen dogs if your mother approves," Griffin answered without missing a beat.
Sloan stared at him, feeling a sudden wave of overwhelming emotion. For ten years, she had carried the entire weight of the world on her own shoulders, fighting every single day to provide for her daughters in a cramped duplex, believing she was entirely alone. And now, in less than twelve hours, this man had stepped back into her life like an unstoppable force of nature, sweeping away her struggles with a flick of his wrist and a look of fierce, unwavering devotion.
"Griffin..." Sloan started, her voice softening, losing its defensive edge. "We can't just upend our lives like this."
"Sloan," Griffin interrupted gently, sitting down on the edge of the mattress and taking her small hand in his large, warm palm. "Ten years ago, you walked out because you were scared. I understand why. But those days are gone. I have spent ten years wondering what happened to you. I'm not giving you a choice about letting me take care of you now. You're my family. All of you."
Hazel and Iris exchanged a knowing look across the bed, whispering something to each other before Hazel looked back at Griffin and said, "Does this mean you're officially our daddy now?"
May you like
Griffin looked down at the twin girls who possessed his soul, then back at the woman he had never stopped loving. His eyes shone with a fierce, quiet pride.
"Yes, Hazel," Griffin said softly, his thumb gently stroking the back of Sloan’s hand. "I am your daddy. And I'm never leaving again."
