Too Late, Mr. Billionaire: You Can't Afford Me by Thedora Birnir

Chapter 287:

Tears sprang to Ernest’s eyes in an instant, shimmering on his lashes before spilling free from the corners. Nyla’s composure crumbled entirely. She clutched her eldest grandson’s hand with fervent strength, her voice fracturing as sobs overtook her. “Ernest, my darling!”

Eric, ever mindful of his grandmother’s fragile state, steadied her with a gentle touch. “Grandma, you mustn’t weep so. It’ll only weigh on Ernest’s heart even more!”

At his words, Nyla wrestled her sobs into submission, though the ache within her chest gnawed relentlessly.

Yet something felt amiss. Ernest’s response… it wasn’t what she had envisioned. She turned to the doctor, her eyes alight with unspoken queries. Hadn’t he really awakened? If he was truly conscious, shouldn’t words have tumbled from his lips by now? Since their arrival, Ernest had uttered not a sound.

Reading her distress, the doctor offered a soothing explanation. “Mrs. Flynn, there’s no cause for alarm. This is quite typical for someone emerging from such a prolonged slumber…” It was only natural for someone rousing from years in a coma to need time to mend. Ernest’s mind was awake, but his voice, his movement, even the simplest acts of self-reliance—they would require patient rehabilitation. He was starting anew, like a child learning the world afresh.

calm certainty, “with time and therapy, he’ll

Ernest’s hand a tender pat. “Did you hear that, love?

remained sealed, the steady stream of tears spoke volumes—he

I’m sorry we roused you so late. Rest now, dear one. Grandma will stay right by

be here too.” Ernest, still voiceless, let his eyes drift shut once more, surrendering to slumber’s

he was peacefully asleep, Eric guided Nyla to the outer lounge, where the doctor awaited to shed further light on

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with a quiet power. Though she had long relinquished the helm of the Flynn dynasty, her presence still commanded reverence. “Will Ernest ever reclaim

Medicine is an art of uncertainties, and each soul dances to its own rhythm of healing…” Seeing Nyla’s face shadow with

eyes darted to Eric,