Chapter 144: A Lease of Life

Dominic was finally discharged from the hospital with a list of aftercare instructions long enough to make him wonder whether going home was actually an improvement.

"Medication on time," Victoria reminded him as she helped him into the back seat of the car. "No strenuous activity, no alcohol, and you heard what the doctor said about your diet."

"I was standing right beside you."

"And yet I somehow don’t trust you to remember any of it."

Dominic settled carefully against the seat. His body still protested whenever he moved too quickly, and unfortunately, arguing with his mother didn’t qualify as strenuous activity.

Otherwise, he’d have had an excellent excuse to stop.

Victoria closed the door, then walked around to the driver’s side.

Before she started the engine, she pulled a letter from her bag. It was from Carlos and Karl. Obviously, Carlos helped Karl write. "Get well soon, Uncle Dominic." The words were in bold letters, and there was a crude drawing of a man in bed.

"Where did you get this?"

Helena gave it to me.

They were heading to the house she’d kept after the divorce, where Dominic had also moved after his relationship with Alexander ended. His old room was still there, though returning to it after another hospital stay wasn’t exactly the homecoming he’d envisioned.

Still, it was considerably better than another night under fluorescent hospital lights.

Conrad wasn’t quite as fortunate.

He remained in the hospital for additional monitoring, although the donated kidney was functioning properly. His doctors were pleased with his progress, and as long as his vitals continued improving, he’d soon be cleared to finish recuperating at home.

Andrei had already prepared for it.

Instead of putting his father in one of the upstairs bedrooms, he had a room on the ground floor made ready. Conrad wouldn’t need to deal with the stairs while he was still weak, and once he regained enough strength to walk around, the garden was only a short distance away.

It would also make things easier for Helena.

She’d spent enough time hovering around her new husband in the hospital. At home, she still had an entire household and two boys competing for her attention.

Those two boys, meanwhile, were delighted to learn their grandparents were finally coming home.

The house had been far too quiet without them.

Which was funny, considering Carlos and Karl had previously thought they were the noisy ones.

Apparently not.

Without the adults around, nobody was constantly shouting things like Stop that! Put that down! Don’t climb there!

It was almost unsettling.

So when Conrad was finally discharged several days later, the boys prepared accordingly.

The moment Andrei brought his father home, two handmade banners greeted Conrad, stretched somewhat unevenly across the living room.

WELCOME HOME, GRANDPA!

One of the letters was backward.

Another had been decorated so enthusiastically that it was almost impossible to identify.

Conrad stared at the banners from his wheelchair.

"Well," he murmured. "I suppose this means I’m expected to stay."

Karl immediately ran toward him.

"Grandpa!"

"Careful," Andrei warned.

The boy slowed just before reaching the wheelchair, apparently remembering that Grandpa was still recovering.

Karl leaned forward instead and planted a careful kiss on Conrad’s cheek.

Conrad smiled and touched the boy’s head.

Carlos approached more solemnly.

Rather than hugging him, he reached for Conrad’s hand and bowed his head, asking for his grandfather’s blessing.

Conrad’s expression softened immediately.

He rested his hand gently against the boy before Carlos finally smiled and stepped aside.

Then both children turned toward Helena.

"Grandma!"

Helena barely had enough time to brace herself before receiving her own kisses.

"Oh, now you remember I exist?"

"We remembered you!"

"Did you?"

"Yes!"

Helena narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Even when nobody was here telling you to stop climbing the furniture?"

The boys became considerably less convincing.

Conrad chuckled from his wheelchair.

The sound made Helena look at him.

For a moment, her smile wavered.

The boys had already lost their mother far too early. They were still young enough that neither completely understood what death meant, but they understood absence.

They understood when someone who had always been there suddenly wasn’t anymore.

Perhaps that was why having their grandparents return home mattered so much.

It meant someone was coming back.

Helena looked away before either child could notice the sudden moisture gathering in her eyes.

Thankfully, Conrad looked tired enough to give her something else to do.

"All right," she announced. "Grandpa needs to rest."

"But he just got here," Karl protested.

"And he’ll still be here after his nap."

Karl considered this very seriously.

"You promise?"

Helena’s expression softened.

"Yes. I promise."

That seemed to satisfy him.

Helena pushed Conrad’s wheelchair toward the room Andrei had prepared while the boys reluctantly remained behind.

Once inside, she helped Conrad transfer carefully onto the bed.

"Slowly."

"I am moving slowly."

"You’re moving at the speed you think is slow."

Conrad gave her a tired look. "We’ve been married for how long, exactly?"

"Long enough for me to know you don’t listen."

Apparently, marriage had already reached that stage.

Helena pulled the curtains partly closed, dimming the afternoon light before adjusting the air-conditioning to make the room more comfortable.

When she turned around, Conrad was already lying back against the pillows, eyes closed.

"You should sleep."

"So should you."

"I wasn’t the patient."

"No. You were merely the woman who refused to leave the patient’s room."

Helena opened her mouth to argue.

Then she looked at the other side of the bed.

It had been a long few weeks.

She was tired. She changed into fresh clothes.

She offered Conrad a glass of water. She also took a sip from the same glass.

Conrad smiled.

Helena climbed onto the other side of the bed and pulled the blanket over both of them.

Neither of them spoke for several minutes.

Then Conrad reached across the space between them until his fingers found hers.

Helena squeezed his hand.

That was all.

The newlyweds slept for hours, Conrad on the right side and Helena on the left, both too exhausted to care that this was hardly the romantic beginning anyone imagined when talking about sharing a matrimonial bed.

No champagne.

No honeymoon suite.

Just medication on the bedside table, a wheelchair parked nearby, and two handmade welcome-home banners waiting outside.

For now, that was more than enough.