When Love is a Question Mark-Chapter 250: What’s Going On?

Lily swallowed hard, her mind racing. She thanked her assistant quickly and ended the call, but her hand trembled as she hovered over her contacts. After a moment’s hesitation, she dialed Timmy’s number.

The phone barely rang once before Timmy’s groggy voice answered. "Lily? It’s late. What’s going on?"

"Don’t you dare act clueless," she snapped, her tone sharp and unwavering. "Tell me the truth now, or else I’m going to hate you for all of this. This is your last chance to be honest with me."

Timmy’s breath hitched on the other end of the line. He sat up in his chair, glancing nervously at James, who was still sound asleep in the hospital bed. The faint glow of the monitors illuminated James’s face, peaceful and oblivious to the storm brewing.

"Lily..." Timmy began, his voice hesitant. "I don’t know what you’ve heard, but—"

"Stop it!" Lily cut him off, her frustration boiling over. "Don’t even try to lie to me again. I know there’s something you’re not telling me. I’ve given you every chance to come clean, and now I’m done playing games. Whatever this is—whatever you and James are hiding—it’s going to come out. So you can either tell me now, or you can deal with the consequences later."

Timmy ran a hand through his hair, his mind racing. He could feel the weight of Lily’s anger through the phone, and it was clear she wasn’t going to let this go. He glanced at James again, torn between his loyalty and the growing pressure to reveal the truth.

"I..." Timmy’s voice faltered, and he lowered his head, his fingers tightening around the phone. After a long pause, he took a deep breath.

"Alright," he said finally, his voice low but steady. "I’ll be honest with you and tell you what really happened."

---

The next morning, Zinnia and Elena arrived at the hospital before sunrise, their worry pulling them from bed far earlier than usual. The corridors were quiet, save for the occasional murmur of nurses making rounds and the distant hum of medical equipment.

Zinnia clutched a thermos of coffee in her hand, though she hadn’t taken more than a sip. The smell of disinfectant in the air only heightened her anxiety.

When they reached Ricardo’s room, Elena hesitated at the door, her fingers gripping the handle tightly. "Do you think he’ll wake up today?" she asked softly, her voice trembling.

Zinnia placed a reassuring hand on her mother’s shoulder. "Let’s see what the doctor says, Mom," she replied gently. "Dad’s strong. He’ll pull through."

They stepped inside, and the sight of Ricardo lying still on the hospital bed hit them both. His complexion looked better than the day before, but the oxygen mask and monitors around him served as a stark reminder of his fragile condition. Elena moved to his side immediately, her hand brushing against his.

"Good morning, Ricardo," she whispered, her voice a mix of hope and heartache. "It’s me, Elena. Zinnia and I are here. We’re waiting for you."

Zinnia stood at the foot of the bed, her eyes scanning her father’s face for any sign of movement. His chest rose and fell in steady rhythm, and while he didn’t stir, there was a warmth in the room that hadn’t been there before.

A soft knock at the door drew their attention. Dr. Mitchell, the surgeon who had performed Ricardo’s operation, entered with a clipboard in hand. Her expression was calm but professional.

"Good morning," she greeted them, her voice low but warm. "I wanted to check in with you both before starting my rounds."

Elena stood quickly, her eyes wide with hope. "Doctor, how is he? Will he wake up soon?"

Dr. Mitchell offered a small smile. "Your husband is stable, which is a very good sign. His vital signs are strong, and his body is responding well to the surgery. While he hasn’t woken up yet, that’s not unusual given the strain his heart went through. I’m cautiously optimistic that he’ll regain consciousness soon."

Elena pressed a hand to her chest, relief washing over her features. "Thank you, Doctor. That’s the best news I’ve heard in days."

Zinnia nodded, though her brow furrowed slightly. "Is there anything we can do to help him wake up sooner?" she asked.

"The best thing you can do is be here for him," Dr. Mitchell replied. "Talk to him, hold his hand—sometimes patients respond to the presence of their loved ones even before they regain full consciousness. But don’t exhaust yourselves. He’ll need you well-rested when he wakes up."

Elena glanced at Ricardo, her eyes brimming with tears. "We’ll stay as long as it takes," she said firmly.

Dr. Mitchell gave a reassuring nod. "That’s what he needs most right now. I’ll be back later to check on him. If anything changes in the meantime, don’t hesitate to call for a nurse."

After the doctor left, the room fell into a peaceful silence. Elena pulled a chair closer to Ricardo’s bed and sat down, her hand resting lightly over his.

"You hear that, Ricardo?" she said softly. "The doctor says you’re doing well. You just need to open your eyes now. We’re all waiting for you."

Zinnia settled into a chair on the other side of the bed, her gaze never leaving her father’s face. "Take your time, Dad," she murmured. "We’ll be here when you’re ready."

The minutes stretched into hours as mother and daughter remained by Ricardo’s side, their quiet conversation filling the room.

They spoke of happier times—of family dinners and vacations—hoping their words would somehow reach him and draw him back to them. And though Ricardo didn’t wake, there was a faint sense of comfort in knowing that he was still with them. All they could do now was remain hopeful.

After a few hours, Zinnia remained in her father’s hospital room, her phone resting loosely in her hand. The room was quiet, but her thoughts were far from calm. She had been scrolling through her emails when an urgent notification popped up—a breaking news alert about Lucas Realty Group.