One week after being discharged, Keifer had convinced himself he was back to being the invincible "Monster." I, however, had other plans. I had turned our master suite into a high-end recovery ward, and my word was the only law that mattered.
10:00 AM: The Office Interception
POV: Jay
I was walking down the hall with a tray of fresh fruit and his high-potency antibiotics when I saw the door to his private study slightly ajar. My eyes narrowed. I knew that silence—it was the sound of a man doing something he wasn't supposed to.
I kicked the door open with my foot.
Keifer was hunched over his mahogany desk, a laptop glowing in the dim light. He was half-dressed in a silk robe, his brow furrowed in concentration as he typed. He didn't even hear me enter until the tray hit the desk with a sharp clack.
"Hubby," I said, my voice dripping with a sweetness that made him visibly flinch. "I don't remember 'Checking the London Stock Exchange' being on your recovery schedule."
"Wifey," he rumbled, not looking up yet, though his hand instinctively moved to cover a particularly nasty bruise on his ribs. "It's just a few emails. Sterling's replacement is already causing friction in the distribution lines."
"I don't care if the entire city of London is on fire," I snapped, reaching over and slamming his laptop shut—narrowly missing his fingers. "You have a $15$ cm incision that is held together by my sheer willpower and some very expensive silk thread. If you strain those abdominal muscles one more time, I will sedate you until next month."11:30 AM: The "Savage" Sponge Bath
I had successfully herded him back to the master bed. He was sitting on the edge, looking grumpy and devastatingly handsome, despite the pallor of his skin.
"I can shower by myself, Jay," he muttered as I walked in with a basin of warm water scented with eucalyptus.
"No, you can't. You get dizzy when you stand for more than five minutes," I countered, pulling a soft cloth from the water. "Now, robe off. Don't make me use my surgical shears on it."
He grumbled but complied, letting the silk slide off his shoulders. My breath hitched for a second. His body was a map of the crash—purple bruises, fading yellow marks, and the long, angry red line of the surgical incision I had made to save his life.
I sat between his knees and began to wash him, my movements becoming soft and rhythmic. I wiped the cloth across his broad chest, tracing the muscles that were finally starting to regain their tone.
"You're being too gentle," he whispered, his eyes dark as he watched me.
"I'm being careful, Keifer," I murmured, my hand lingering over the area above his heart. "I spent too many hours keeping this heart beating to let it get stressed now."
He reached out, his hand—warm and steady now—covering mine. He pressed my palm flat against his chest. "It's beating for you, Jay. It's been beating for you since the moment I woke up and saw you crying."
I looked up, and for a moment, the room was silent. "Good. Keep it that way. Because if it stops again, I'm not just coming after you—I'm bringing you back just to kill you myself for the stress."
02:00 PM: The "Pappa" Therapy
By the afternoon, Keifer was getting restless again. The only way to keep him pinned to the bed was to bring in the "Heavy Artillery."
I opened the door, and Astraea came wobbling in, clutching a picture book, followed by Alexander, who was carrying a tray of "healing" cookies (mostly crumbs) that Mayo and Kit had helped him bake.
"PAPPA!" Astraea cheered, scrambling onto the bed. She had zero concept of "surgical recovery" and tried to launch herself at his chest.
"Whoa, easy there, Princess," I said, catching her mid-air and settling her gently in the crook of Keifer's arm.
"Dad, I brought the power cookies," Alexander said seriously, handing a mangled chocolate chip circle to Keifer. "Rory said they have 'tactical sugar' for energy."
Keifer took a bite, looking like he was eating a five-star meal. "Thank you, Little Ninja. I can feel my strength returning already."
I leaned against the bedpost, watching them. Keifer had Astraea tucked into his side, showing her the pictures of the stars in her book, while Alexander sat at the foot of the bed, "guarding" them.
Keifer looked at me over the kids' heads, his expression soft and completely unguarded. "Best doctor in the world," he mouthed.
"Only because I have the most difficult patient," I mouthed back, finally allowing myself a real, peaceful smile.