Pain woke him first.
It wasn't sharp anymore—just a deep, heavy ache spreading across his back like a dull weight pressing into his spine.
Sebastian Wolfe opened his eyes slowly.
For a few seconds, the world felt hazy. The ceiling above him was unfamiliar, bright but dimmed by nighttime lighting. The quiet hum of machines surrounded him.
Hospital.
Right.
The surgery.
His memory returned piece by piece.
The doctor.
The operating room.
Lillian arguing with him about resting.
His jaw tightened slightly.
He turned his head.
And immediately saw her.
Lillian Parker was still in the chair beside his bed.
Fast asleep.
Her posture was far from comfortable—her head tilted slightly to one side, arms loosely crossed, one leg tucked under the other. A thin blanket someone had left on the chair had slipped halfway to the floor.
She looked exhausted.
Sebastian blinked once.
She stayed.
That thought lingered longer than it should have.
Hours must have passed.
No one had asked her to stay.
She simply… did.
He studied her for a moment longer before looking away.
That strange warmth from earlier stirred faintly in his chest again.
Unfamiliar.
Annoying.
He ignored it.
Instead, his attention shifted to the table beside the hospital bed.
His phone.
Sebastian reached for it slowly, wincing slightly when his back protested.
But he grabbed the device anyway.
The screen lit up.
Thirty-seven missed calls.
Dozens of emails.
Messages from executives.
Board members.
Investors.
His expression returned to its usual cool neutrality.
Of course.
The company had probably been falling apart for the past twelve hours.
He began scrolling through emails immediately.
Henderson contract delay.
Investor concerns.
Board meeting rescheduled.
Production approval pending.
Sebastian exhaled quietly.
Unbelievable.
He was unconscious for one day and everything collapsed.
Typical.
He tapped quickly through messages, already typing responses.
Approve the Henderson deal.
Move the investor call to tomorrow morning.
Send the financial projections to the board.
He winced again as he shifted slightly, but ignored it.
Work came first.
Always.
A faint rustling sound came from beside him.
Lillian stirred.
Her eyes opened slowly.
For a moment, she looked confused.
Then she saw him sitting upright.
And holding his phone.
Her expression froze.
Sebastian didn't notice at first.
He was already opening a document attachment.
"I need my laptop," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
Silence filled the room.
Then—
"Absolutely not."
Sebastian blinked.
He turned his head.
Lillian was staring at him.
Not tired.
Not calm.
Furious.
Pure, unfiltered fury.
Her hair was slightly messy from sleep and the blanket had slipped entirely off the chair, but none of that softened the dangerous look in her eyes.
Sebastian raised an eyebrow.
"…Good morning, Miss Parker."
"Put. The phone. Down."
Her voice was slow.
Sharp.
Sebastian glanced back at the screen.
"I have thirty-seven missed calls," he said calmly.
"I don't care."
"And the Henderson contract requires—."
"Sebastian."
The way she said his name stopped him mid-sentence.
She rarely used it like that.
He looked up.
Her eyes were blazing.
"You had spinal surgery," she said slowly.
"Yes."
"Twelve hours ago."
"Technically fourteen."
Lillian's jaw tightened.
"I'm going to pretend you didn't just correct me."
Sebastian returned his attention to his phone.
"The board needs confirmation on—."
The phone vanished from his hand.
Sebastian froze.
Lillian was now holding it.
His phone.
Her eyes narrowed dangerously.
"Miss Parker."
"No."
"Give that back."
"No."
"You're being unreasonable."
"You're being insane."
Sebastian leaned back slightly against the hospital bed, clearly unimpressed.
"The company does not pause because I'm in a hospital."
"Yes it does," she snapped.
"It doesn't."
"It does today."
Sebastian held out his hand.
"Phone."
Lillian crossed her arms.
"Try again."
They stared at each other.
A silent battle.
Sebastian's expression remained cool and composed.
Lillian looked ready to flip the hospital bed.
"You just had major surgery," she said.
"I'm aware."
"You can barely move."
"I'm managing."
"You were unconscious for hours."
"I'm awake now."
Lillian's patience snapped.
"Oh my god, what is wrong with you?!"
Sebastian blinked.
"You think the company will collapse if you don't answer emails for one day?!" she continued.
"That's a possibility."
"It is not."
"You haven't seen the board meetings."
"I don't need to! You need rest!"
"I rested."
"You were unconscious!"
"Exactly."
Lillian stared at him like she was seconds away from committing a crime.
Sebastian remained completely calm.
"I need my laptop," he repeated.
Lillian let out a disbelieving laugh.
"You cannot be serious."
"I am."
"You just had your spine cut open."
"A minor technical description."
She looked like she might scream.
Instead, she grabbed the chair and dragged it closer to the bed.
Then she sat down directly in front of him.
Blocking his view.
Blocking the table.
Blocking everything.
Sebastian raised an eyebrow.
"…What are you doing?"
"I'm preventing you from working."
"That's not your job."
"It is today."
"You're overstepping."
"And you're overworking."
Sebastian exhaled slowly.
"Miss Parker—."
"No."
"You're being dramatic."
"You're being reckless."
"Reckless would be ignoring the board entirely."
"Reckless is reopening your spine because you can't stop working!"
That shut him up.
For exactly three seconds.
"The surgery was successful," he said calmly.
"And if you start working immediately, it won't stay that way."
Sebastian tilted his head slightly.
"You're very emotional today."
Lillian leaned forward.
"You know what? Yes. I am."
Her voice softened slightly—but the intensity didn't disappear.
"You scared everyone yesterday."
Sebastian frowned faintly.
"Everyone?"
"Chloe thought you were going to collapse in the elevator."
"She exaggerates."
"The doctor said you could have lost mobility if you waited longer."
Sebastian didn't respond.
Lillian's voice lowered.
"You work like you're the only person in the world responsible for everything."
"I am."
"You're not."
"Yes, I am."
"No, you're not!"
Her voice echoed slightly in the quiet hospital room.
Sebastian looked at her for a long moment.
Then he said quietly,
"You wouldn't understand."
Lillian's expression softened slightly.
"You're right," she said.
"I don't understand."
She paused.
Then continued more gently.
"But I do know one thing."
Sebastian watched her.
"You don't have to do everything alone."
Something flickered briefly in his blue eyes.
Gone almost instantly.
"That's not how the world works."
"Maybe it should be."
Silence settled between them.
The machines beside the bed beeped quietly.
Sebastian leaned back against the pillow.
His back still ached.
And unfortunately…
Lillian Parker was sitting directly in front of him like a very determined security guard.
"You're stubborn," he muttered.
She gave him a look.
"You have no idea."
He closed his eyes briefly.
Then opened one again.
"You're still holding my phone."
"Yes."
"Are you planning to return it?"
"No."
"That's theft."
"That's healthcare."
Sebastian almost smiled.
Almost.
Instead, he sighed quietly.
"…One email."
"No."
"One."
"No."
"Half."
"No."
He stared at her.
She stared right back.
Finally, Sebastian leaned his head against the pillow.
Defeated.
"…You're impossible."
Lillian relaxed slightly in the chair.
"Good."
He closed his eyes again.
But this time, he didn't reach for the phone.
And for the first time in years—
Sebastian Wolfe actually allowed himself to rest.
Even if it was only because Lillian Parker refused to let him do otherwise.