AN: After a lot of thinking, I've decided not to add a harem in this ff. Sorry, harem lovers, after years of writing harem ffs, I really needed a change. I want to see if I can pull off something out of my comfort zone. Hope you understand.
New week, gimme those powerstones and help me rank up. Oh, you'll get a bonus chapter tonight.
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[Four Weeks Later – Hospital]
Jack sat on the edge of the hospital bed and rolled his shoulders slowly. The movement felt smooth and controlled, without any sharp pull or snapping tension in the muscle. Everything moved the way it was supposed to.
Sarah stood near the window with her arms folded, watching him as if she expected something to slip out of place at any second. Richard stood near the door with the same cautious expression people wore when waiting for a magic trick to go wrong.
The doctor flipped through the test reports for the third time.
"Alright," he muttered, glancing from the clipboard to Jack and back again. "Lift both arms over your head."
Jack raised them easily.
"Rotate."
He did.
"Now reach behind your back."
He complied without hesitation.
The doctor's frown deepened. "And the ankle?"
Jack slid off the bed and stood upright. He shifted his weight onto the previously injured foot and bent his knee slightly. His balance stayed steady, and his posture remained relaxed. He even did a couple of quick jumps and walked around the room twice.
Sarah blinked in surprise. "You are not even limping."
"I told you I felt fine," Jack said with a small shrug. "I mean, genuinely fine."
The doctor stepped closer. He bent down and pressed along the side of Jack's ankle, checking for swelling. His fingers moved carefully over the joint before he applied light resistance.
"Flex forward."
Jack followed the instructions.
"Now back."
He did that as well.
The doctor looked genuinely puzzled. "The initial scans showed a severe sprain with ligament stress, bruised ribs, and a shoulder strain that should have required at least six weeks before physical therapy."
Jack gave a crooked smile. "Guess I am built different."
Richard let out a brief laugh that faded when the doctor did not return it.
"Recovery usually does not progress this quickly," the doctor said. "Your swelling has resolved, your range of motion is normal, and your strength response is stable. At this stage, I would normally expect you to be still recovering."
"I am not faking it," Jack said, half amused and half defensive. "You can make me do jumping jacks if you want."
Sarah shot him a warning look. "Do not push it."
The doctor rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Walk to the door and back."
Jack walked across the room. He turned smoothly and returned the same way.
A brief, heavy quiet settled over the room.
"Well," the doctor finally said as he closed the chart, "from a clinical standpoint, I cannot justify scheduling physical therapy if there is no instability, no pain response, and no functional limitation."
Sarah straightened. "So he is cleared?"
"I will run one more scan to confirm ligament integrity," the doctor replied. "If it matches what I am seeing here, then yes. He appears fully healed."
'Dang! I got a fast healing cheat. Luckily, it ain't instantaneous or else, I'd be lying in a government experiment lab,' Jack thought.
Richard shook his head slowly. "That is incredible. It has only been four weeks. I guess he got my good genes."
Sarah shot Richard a look.
"Our good genes," Richard corrected.
"For injuries of this severity," the doctor said, nodding, "I would normally expect residual weakness by now. Instead, his recovery curve looks closer to what we see after a mild strain."
Jack lifted his arms again, simply because he could. His shoulder moved freely, without any tug of stiffness, and even his ribs felt normal when he twisted at the waist.
"Are you feeling any pain at all?" the doctor asked.
"Nope," Jack replied. "I kept waiting for something to flare up again, but I'm good. Maybe the first scans were glitched up."
The doctor gave a slow nod. "I will document this as an accelerated recovery. It is uncommon, but it does happen. Some athletes heal faster than projected, especially at your age."
Jack almost laughed at the word athletes.
A nurse arrived to escort them for imaging. Jack's parents followed, exchanging uncertain glances.
As the machine hummed around him, Jack stared at the ceiling.
Four weeks ago, he had prepared himself for stiffness, frustration, and slow progress. Instead, every morning had felt easier than the last. The swelling had faded quickly, the bruises had disappeared, and his strength had returned with unsettling speed.
When they returned to the room, the doctor reviewed the images in silence.
"The ligaments are intact," he said at last. "The inflammation has resolved, and the tissue alignment is stable."
Sarah finally released a long breath.
"So he really is okay?"
"Yes," the doctor replied, still sounding faintly puzzled.
Jack leaned back against the bed, unable to hide his grin. "I told you."
The doctor handed Jack a clearance form. "Ease back into activity. Avoid full contact for two weeks as a precaution, and return if you notice swelling or discomfort."
Jack accepted the paper and studied it like a prize.
As they prepared to leave, Sarah rested a gentle hand on his arm.
"Don't even think about running around for two weeks."
"Yes, Mom. I promise," Jack replied with a sigh.
The automatic doors slid open and a rush of cool morning air followed them outside. Jack took a deep breath and squared his shoulders.
Richard unlocked the car and waited until Sarah and Jack settled in before starting the engine. Traffic was light for a Saturday morning.
"We should celebrate," Sarah said from the passenger seat.
Richard glanced at her and nodded once. "I agree."
Jack leaned back and watched the buildings pass outside his window. "We haven't had breakfast, lunch or dinner together in a while. So, maybe we can eat together today? I mean, if you two have time?"
Sarah's smile faded slightly at Jack's suggestion.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "Your father and I have both been buried in new projects. There have been back-to-back meetings all week. I should have cleared more time."
Richard kept his eyes on the road, his jaw tightening just a little.
Jack nodded. "It's alright. I understand. Hollywood keeps everyone busy."
Sarah turned halfway in her seat to look at him. "That doesn't mean we don't want to be there."
Before the moment could sink too deeply, Richard spoke. "Meetings can wait. Today we are going to spend quality time together as a family. Everything else can be rescheduled."
Sarah glanced at him in mild surprise because he never rescheduled any meeting unless it was an extreme emergency. But today, she could see the subtle change in him, and she was certain that he smiled when Jack asked if they could eat together. Ever since Jack turned around his life, Richard changed too, in a good way, and she loved it. It was as if she were looking at the younger version of Richard back when they were still in college.
"I already told my assistant to clear the afternoon," Richard added.
Jack looked between them. "You did?"
Richard gave a small nod. "Yes."
He took the next lane instead of heading home. The car turned onto a quieter street lined with palm trees and modern storefronts. Jack sat up a little straighter, noticing the change in direction.
"Where are we going?" he asked.
Richard gave a small smile but kept his eyes forward. "You'll see."
A few minutes later, the car slowed in front of a modern glass-fronted building with understated gold lettering above the entrance: "Elara." Valet attendants in dark uniforms stepped forward as Richard pulled up to the curb. The restaurant carried the quiet confidence of a place that did not need to announce itself loudly.
Jack stared through the window. "This is new."
Richard turned off the engine. "I bought it last week. Quiet acquisition."
Jack blinked, processing the words. "You bought this place?"
Sarah opened her door. "Three Michelin stars. The previous owner was ready to retire. Your father saw an opportunity."
They stepped out of the car. Richard handed the keys to the valet and walked around to join them.
The entrance doors opened automatically, and a host greeted Richard by name. They looked as if they were old friends.
The space inside felt open and organized. It had high ceilings and soft natural light coming through sheer panels. Tables were far apart, allowing for private conversations. Even at this early hour, the dining room was about a third full. A few staff members moved efficiently, setting tables for lunch.
The host led them to a corner table near a window that overlooked a small private garden. Richard pulled out Sarah's chair, then took the seat across from Jack.
Jack settled in and looked around again. The menu on the table was simple, bound in dark leather, with no prices listed. He opened it carefully.
"This is... a lot," he said.
Richard nodded. "It is meant to be. The chef focuses on seasonal ingredients and clean flavors. Nothing overcomplicated."
"So, they have everything?" Jack asked, closing the menu.
Richard nodded. "Yeah, pretty much."
Jack said, "I want a burger. Not the fancy stuff with gold flakes or caviar and whatnots. I want a real cheeseburger. Can the chef make a perfect classic Cheeseburger?"
Richard closed the menu and lifted his hand slightly. A waiter approached the table.
"Three classic cheeseburgers. Medium on the patties, American cheese, standard toppings. Add fries on the side for all of us. I'll have a Diet Coke. Jack?"
"Dr. Pepper for me," Jack said.
Sarah smiled at the waiter. "Classic lemonade for me, thank you."
The waiter gave a quick nod, repeated the order once to confirm, and walked away toward the kitchen.
The table settled into a comfortable quiet for a moment.
Jack traced the edge of his water glass with one finger while he waited.
Sarah leaned forward slightly and broke the silence. "So, how are things with Haley?"
Jack looked up and met her eyes. "Good. Really good, actually. We've been talking every day. She comes by the house a couple of times a week when her schedule allows it. We watch movies or just sit and talk."
Sarah nodded slowly. "That sounds steady. I'm glad she's been there for you."
"She has," Jack said. "Even when I was stuck in bed feeling useless, she never made it feel like a chore to hang out."
Richard rested his forearms on the table. "That is important. Someone who shows up when things are inconvenient."
Jack nodded. "She did."
Sarah smiled faintly. "I remember being that age. Everything feels intense, even when it is simple."
She leaned back slightly, like she was pulling an old memory off a shelf.
"You know," she began, her voice softer now, "when I first met your dad, he was not exactly the calm, composed guy you see sitting there."
Richard raised an eyebrow. "I was always calm and composed."
She gave him a look. "You were a disaster."
Jack grinned. "This already sounds good."
Sarah laughed quietly. "We met in college. Your father thought he was very smooth. He wore leather jackets in summer and quoted films nobody else had seen. I thought he was a showoff."
Richard nodded. "I was confident."
"You spilled coffee on my book the first week we talked."
"That was strategic," Richard said with a straight face. "It gave me an excuse to sit next to you in class in the name of sharing a book."
Jack let out a small laugh. "That is actually kind of genius."
Sarah shook her head. "It was not genius. It was clumsy. But somehow, it worked. We started studying together. Then grabbing late dinners. Then staying up until two in the morning arguing about everything from politics to which movie had the best soundtrack."
Richard's expression softened at that.
"It felt easy," Sarah continued. "Even when we disagreed, it felt easy."
She paused for a second, fingers lightly tracing the edge of the table.
"About eight months into dating, I got into a car accident."
Jack's smile faded slightly.
"It was raining," Sarah said. "Some guy ran a red light. I remember the headlights coming toward me and then nothing for a few seconds. When I woke up in the hospital, both of my arms were in casts and I had cracked ribs. I could barely sit up without feeling like my chest was tearing."
Jack's posture straightened.
"I was twenty," she went on. "I hated feeling helpless. I could not brush my own hair. I could not even hold a spoon properly. I felt embarrassed all the time. I still remember that night... your dad came to the hospital that first night."
Richard shifted slightly in his chair.
Sarah smiled faintly at him. "He walked in, trying to look strong. I remember that very clearly. He had that serious expression like he was preparing for a business meeting. Then he saw me."
She glanced at Jack.
"And his face just fell."
Richard cleared his throat. "I don't recall that."
"You cried," Sarah said gently.
"I absolutely did not cry."
Jack leaned forward. "Dad."
Richard looked at him, trying to keep his composure. "I might have had something in my eye."
Sarah laughed softly as she reached and grabbed his hand. "You stood next to the bed, trying to say something reassuring. Your voice cracked halfway through the first sentence. Then you just grabbed my hand very carefully so you would not hurt the casts and your eyes filled up."
Richard looked down at the table for a moment, then back at Sarah with a reluctant smile.
"I thought you were going to leave," Sarah admitted quietly. "We were young and accidents are messy. Recovery is slow. It is not glamorous. I told him he did not have to stay."
Jack listened without interrupting.
Richard leaned back in his chair. "That was not even a question in my mind."
Sarah nodded. "He showed up every single day. He fed me when I could not hold utensils properly. He learned how to help me sit up without putting pressure on my ribs. He brushed my hair when it started tangling because I could not lift my arms high enough."
Jack's throat tightened a little.
"He brought my class notes," she continued. "Sat next to me and read them out loud because I was too tired to focus. When physical therapy started, he sat in the waiting room through every appointment. Sometimes three hours at a time."
Richard shrugged slightly, as if it had been nothing.
"It was not dramatic," Sarah said. "There were no big speeches. Just small things every day... Consistent things."
She looked directly at Jack.
"That is how I knew."
"Knew what?" Jack asked.
"He was there for more than just the fun times. He stuck around when things got tough. He supported me when I was uncomfortable and frustrated, especially when I was angry and snapping at everyone because I hated being in casts."
Richard gave a faint smile. "You were very grumpy."
"I was in pain," she replied, though she was smiling too.
Jack let out a quiet breath. "And you stayed."
Richard nodded. "Of course I stayed."
Sarah reached across the table and rested her hand lightly over Richard's.
"He even argued with one of the nurses," she added.
Richard straightened. "She was not adjusting the sling correctly."
"You barely knew what a sling was," Sarah said.
"I learned fast," Richard replied.
Jack looked between them, something warm settling in his chest.
"So when you say Haley showed up," Sarah continued gently, "that matters. It might feel simple right now. Just movie nights and sitting around. But showing up during the frustrating parts tells you a lot about a person."
Jack nodded slowly. "She never made me feel like I was broken. Even when I could not walk properly. She would just sit there and talk like nothing was wrong."
Richard gave a small approving nod. "That says something."
"She's a good girl," Sarah said. "Make sure to take care of her."
Jack nodded. "I will."
The waiter returned with their drinks, placing them carefully on the table. A few minutes later, the cheeseburgers arrived, perfectly stacked with melted American cheese and crisp fries on the side.
Jack stared at the plate and let out a low whistle. "Okay. That looks good."
Richard glanced at him. "Let us see if it lives up to your standards."
They each picked up their burgers. Jack took a bite and paused mid-chew.
His eyes widened slightly. 'Freakin' hell! This is perfect.'
"That," he said after swallowing, "is the best cheeseburger I have ever had."
Sarah laughed. "High praise."
Richard allowed himself a satisfied smile. "I will pass that along to the chef."
Jack took another bite, then looked at his parents again.
"Thanks," he said, more serious now.
"For the burger?" Richard asked lightly.
"For today," Jack replied. "For clearing your schedules and being here. It means a lot to me."
Sarah's expression softened.
"We are trying," she said quietly. "We may not get it right every time, but we are trying."
Richard nodded once. "And we are proud of you."
Jack looked down at his plate for a second, then back up.
"I am glad we did this," he said.
"So am I," Sarah replied.
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