Brian secured a VIP ward and a caregiver for Lyndon, then he and Rosalynn made their way to the ward.

Lyndon lay in repose on the hospital bed, his head wrapped in gauze, his complexion ashen.

Rosalynn perched silently at his bedside, awaiting his awakening.

Beside her, Brian's gaze lingered on Lyndon. An unexpected pang of jealousy took hold as he watched Rosalynn, looking every bit the devoted girlfriend at her lover's bedside.

He averted his eyes, struggling internally to quell the jealousy.

He kept telling himself that he shouldn't feel this way. Were it not for Lyndon, Rosalynn might have been harmed today. He ought to be grateful, not small-minded. Lyndon deserved his thanks.

Shortly after, Lyndon stirred from his slumber, the effects of the anesthesia fading.

Rosalynn, elated, inquired gently, "Lyndon, are you alright?"

In a daze, Lyndon gazed at her and murmured, "Rosa?"

Believing he sought her, Rosalynn responded tenderly, "How do you feel? Need some water?"

Lyndon's gaze lingered on her as he gradually regained his senses.

He made an effort to rise, and as Rosalynn moved to assist, Brian stepped forward to lend a hand.

Rosalynn held her peace, turning instead to fetch Lyndon a drink.

Brian, with a hushed tone, expressed his gratitude, “Lyndon, my thanks for your heroism today in saving my wife.”

His gratitude was evident, yet he subtly reminded Lyndon of Rosalynn's status as his wife. Rosalynn was a married woman!

A wave of dizziness washed over Lyndon. He shut his eyes, querying, “The driver, where might he be?"

“At the precinct," Brian responded.

“And his confession?" Lyndon probed further.

Brian revealed, “The police reported he was intoxicated and caused the accident."

Lyndon's gaze sharpened.