Chapter 2: The Comatose Husband

Three days after the wedding, Avery Tate moved into the Foster family estate.

The mansion was so large that she felt like a guest in someone else's world.

Marble floors reflected the chandeliers above.

Servants moved quietly through the halls.

Everything was elegant, expensive, and strangely cold.

A housekeeper led Avery to the bedroom assigned to her.

"Mrs. Foster, this will be your room."

Avery nodded politely.

"Thank you."

Once she was alone, she closed the door and finally allowed herself to breathe.

Her marriage had already changed her life.

Yet she still hadn't met the man she had married.

Avery picked up the marriage certificate from her suitcase and placed it carefully inside a drawer.

"Mrs. Foster," she whispered.

The title still sounded unreal.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.

The door opened and an elegant older woman entered.

Her silver hair was neatly styled, and her expression carried a quiet authority.

"You must be Avery."

"Yes."

"I'm Rosalie Foster."

"Elliot's mother."

Avery immediately stood.

"Mrs. Foster."

Rosalie looked at her for several seconds.

There was no hostility in her eyes.

Only weariness.

"You don't have to call me Mrs. Foster," she said gently.

"Call me Aunt Rosalie for now."

Avery nodded.

"Alright."

Rosalie took a seat.

"I know this marriage isn't ordinary."

"You married my son when he couldn't even stand beside you."

"I won't pretend this situation is fair."

"But I promise your rights as his wife will be protected."

Avery remained silent.

Rosalie continued.

"Elliot is still receiving treatment."

"The doctors haven't given up entirely."

"Neither have I."

Avery lowered her eyes.

"How is he?"

"Stable."

"But still unconscious."

Rosalie took a slow breath.

"I know people think he won't wake up."

"They may be right."

"But he's my son."

"As long as there's a chance, I'll wait."

Avery understood.

A mother could never easily give up on her child.

"I'll do whatever I can," Avery said quietly.

Rosalie looked surprised.

"You don't have to."

"I know."

"But he's my husband now."

For the first time, Rosalie smiled.

"Maybe my decision wasn't as foolish as everyone thought."

That evening, Avery was taken to the Foster private hospital.

The room was guarded by security.

Machines surrounded the bed.

And there he was.

Elliot Foster.

The man she had married.

He looked nothing like the frightening businessman described in magazines.

His eyes were closed.

His face was pale.

Dark hair rested loosely against his forehead.

Despite being unconscious, there was still something intimidating about him.

Avery slowly approached the bed.

"Hello, Elliot."

There was no response.

She stood beside him for a long time.

"I guess this is a strange way to meet your husband."

Still nothing.

Avery pulled a chair beside the bed and sat down.

"I didn't marry you because I wanted your money."

"Actually, I didn't even want to marry you."

"But I needed to save my father."

Her voice became quieter.

"And apparently, you needed a wife."

She gave a small, bitter smile.

"So I guess we're both stuck with each other."

For the first time in days, talking felt easier than keeping everything inside.

"My boyfriend betrayed me."

"My stepsister helped him."

"My stepmother tried to use my father's illness against me."

"So congratulations."

"You married a woman who has terrible luck with people."

Avery laughed softly.

Elliot remained completely still.

She didn't know why, but sitting beside him felt strangely peaceful.

Perhaps because he couldn't judge her.

He couldn't lie to her.

He couldn't betray her.

Avery stayed until late evening.

Before leaving, she gently adjusted the blanket around him.

"Sleep well," she whispered.

"I'll come back tomorrow."

She turned toward the door.

Behind her...

Elliot's fingers moved slightly.

No one noticed.

The following morning, Avery returned with flowers.

"Good morning."

"I brought these for you."

She placed them beside the bed.

"I don't know if you like flowers."

"But they're pretty."

She sat down again.

"I also brought a book."

"Maybe I'll read to you."

Over the next few weeks, Avery visited almost every day.

Sometimes she spoke about the bookstore she dreamed of opening.

Sometimes she complained about the Foster family's endless formal dinners.

Sometimes she simply sat quietly beside him.

Without realizing it...

The hospital room became the one place where Avery felt completely safe.

She had no idea that someone else was beginning to listen.

At night, when everyone left the private room...

Elliot's mind was no longer completely silent.

Darkness slowly gave way to fragments of sound.

A woman's voice.

Soft.

Warm.

Always nearby.

"Good morning, Elliot."

"I brought you flowers."

"I'm reading this part again because I think you'll like it."

For months, he had lived in darkness.

Now, somehow...

He could hear her.

He couldn't open his eyes yet.

He couldn't move.

But somewhere deep inside the darkness...

Elliot Foster had begun fighting his way back.