🌹R O S E III🌹

🌹CHAPTER FORTY - TWO🌹

Days pass, days with no end and when I finally was able to go home after being in the hospital for so long, I was still on bed rest but that did not matter to me because I was determined to finish the novel that I'm writing. It still doesn't have a name and I still have no finished it.

I sit in our bed in our home with Alexander already at work since he needs to take care of our companies and making sure that everything runs smoothly which I'm sure it already does but still he needs to be there and my mom is also helping.

She has been so helpful and she likes to take care of me since she likes to remember of the times when I was a child. Speaking of children. Alexander has already gone over the paperwork with his lawyers and if the child is his then he can just take it home after it is born but if it is not his then we will have to contact the father and if he does not want it then we will adopt it.

I've not heard anything of Selena or how she's doing but all I know is that the child is still growing inside her womb and while she's not showing yet it is there. The doctors have confirmed that and they are keeping an eye on her in that hospital that is meant for people like her, people that just need a bit more help than others.

The laptop is on my lap and I stare down at the words that I last wrote and this novel is actually coming together. Soon it will be over and while I have no idea what I will do after that, I know that I'm going to be so proud of this one and I already know that my mom is going to read it over and over again.

She has already read some of it so many times and she has told me so many times that when it is done that she will be the first one to read it. She and Alexander actually started to fight on who was going to be the first one to read the finished novel and I could not help but chuckle at when they did it but I also had this pride within me that I had created something that they wanted to read that much.

My throat had healed and I can speak normally now but it feels weird to speak after being silent for so long. I was not allowed to speak at all in a couple of days and it was not that bad. I had a white board tablet with me which I did write everything that I wanted to say and showed the one that I'm speaking to.

Anyway, I put my fingers on the keys of the keyboard and then I start to type. Allowing my fingers to dance on the keyboard and just fly all over and on all the keys that they could to form the words and 100 words went to a thousand and soon a thousand became ten thousand.

Hours have already passed and my fingers and hands are cramping up so badly that it hurts to even move them but it was so worth it. My book is so close to be finished. There is not much left and I'm so happy that soon it will be finished but somehow a part of me doesn't want it to be finished.

Because then it will be all over and a part of me doesn't want that. A part of me just wants to continue writing this novel forever but I already know how I wanted it to end. Though, there is not much left but there is still plenty of things that have yet to happen.

I do have a clear vision of how I want this novel to be. However, a name for it. That is the only thing I'm lacking. I do have a couple of ideas but none of them fit and I'm not sure what I want to do. My mom did tell me that she does have some idea of a title for the novel but she hasn't told me yet.

She said that she would tell me as soon as she has read the novel itself, to truly make sure that the name does fit. By the time that I'm written ten thousand words its already five in the afternoon and soon, I think Alexander will be home. He did tell me that he will be the one cooking for us dinner tonight and I do want to see that so he said that he'd be home early so he could start on the food.

He also wanted to eat early for some reason but did not tell me why. I yawn as I put the laptop aside and remove the covers off my body before I pull myself up. Taking a cane that is beside the bed I start walking to the bathroom door. While the wound is still healing it will take some time before I can do things like I normally did.

And walking is one thing that I need to practice. Only reminds me of when I was in a wheelchair. Wait, was I in a wheelchair for real or was that because of the coma? I honestly don't know anything about that. Like this, I have been confused and mixing together the coma time with the real one and I have a hard time knowing what actually happened.

It's actually worse than it should be but no one knows about it and now that things are finally settling down and getting much better, I don't want to bother anyone with it and I just want things to be normal and I did want to be able to forget about the time I was in a coma.

It isn't something that I like thinking about. Walking to the bathroom took a couple of minutes since I can only take tiny steps at a time and if I take larger than that then the pain just shoots up from my stomach and back. The wound on my back is healing much better as it was smaller since the edge of the knife was much smaller.

Once I've made it to the bathroom I do my business there and as I was opening the door I can hear footsteps walk over to the bedroom and I smile when I know that it's Alexander. I don't find it weird that I know by the sound of his footsteps.

He opens the door just as I'm walking back to the bed and he smiles at me and I smile back at him. He walks over to me and places a kiss on my lips but not a deep one but just lightly before he helps me sit down on the bed. Seeing the laptop on the nightstand he chuckles.

"I see that you've been writing" He says and I nod my head. "Just a bit or about ten thousand words" I tell him and he gapes at me. "I don't think I would be able to write that much in a month. You truly are amazing, you do know that right?" He asks me and I look down as the blush rises to my cheeks with heat rushing through my whole body.

I slowly nod my head, not knowing how I can answer his question nor what I could've said to that. "You must be hungry, I was thinking that I could cook us some chicken pasta. What do you say?" He asks me and I smile to him as I look up at him.

Our hands hold each other and while my fingers are still paining I find that I do want to hold his hand and I don't mind the discomfort, not when I'm with him. "That sounds perfect but do you even know how to make pasta?" I ask him as I think that he has already bought or had someone buy already cooked chicken since it will take some time to cook a chicken to the point where it's safe to eat it.

He chuckles. "Of course" He tells me as if he could but I can see through is playfulness. He doesn't know how to cook pasta. "Do you want me to help you?" I ask him and he sighs. "Yes, please" He says and because of that I let out giggle. "All right, we best get going to the kitchen. I might take some time to get there" I tell him and he nods.

"I wish I could carry you over there, it would be much easier" He tells me. Because of my stomach he can't lift me up, no matter how much he wants to help me. "You can start. I can tell you what to do while I'm on the way there" I tell him and he nods his head before he has walked away to the kitchen.

Did he forget the fact that he needs the information out of me? When will he realize that he doesn't have a clue what he's doing? I laugh at the thought and wish that I could see his face when he does realize it. The kitchen isn't that far from the bedroom.

However, walking there taking smaller steps than a mouse it's pretty long way. I think I'm walking like an old person with a cane since I do have a cane. But, my back is not bent. Actually I've been told that it's worse when my back is bent.

Just as I was about to turn a corner I hear his running footsteps and he has realized that he still has to know what he is supposed to do. It's actually kind of funny and sad that he doesn't know how to make pasta which is actually so easy to make that even a child could do it, but a child should not do it without parental supervision.

When he comes to me with a smirk to hide his embarrassment, I tell him what he should do first and he is off again and I continue walking. It's actually kind of relaxing to walk this slow because my eyes can run over everything and I can take a look at things that would normally pass by my eyes if I were walking normally.

Though, I know that soon I will be able to as my walk does get better with each passing day. A small step but a step in the right direction and soon everything will be better again and we can move on with our life. Hopefully with a child by our side.

Alexander comes back again and I tell him the next thing that he has to do and this happens until I finally make it to the kitchen and by the time that I'm there the pasta is almost finished but there is so much to do still and I tell him what he has to do.

I don't know if he is but if he is memorizing what to do then next time he can do it on his own. Why does it feel like I'm helping a child with this? Maybe because he is sometimes a child, and maybe this is just practice when we get a child to raise and love with our hearts.

We spend some time on making this chicken pasta and by the time that he has put dishes on the table and we taste it, the thing that we did together. Though he did most of the work while I told him what to do, but he was a good listener and he did listen and follow every instruction that I gave him and in the end it tasted amazing and I can't wait until this will be made again.