Hot Driver - S01 E89

Story 4 days ago

Hot Driver - S01 E89

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 89

Hamilton General Hospital – Night (Continued)

Ivory threw her arms around him the moment his eyes fully focused on her, and Duane hugged her back with what little strength he had, both of them sobbing into each other’s shoulders in a way that had nothing composed or dignified about it at all.

He’d been so sure, in that final conscious second on the cinema pavement, that this was it — that the darkness closing in around him was permanent, that he’d never get to see her face again. And now here he was, weak and wired to a dozen machines, and she was real, warm, sobbing against his chest.

I made it back to her, he thought, tightening his arms around her as much as his depleted body would allow. I actually made it back.

He pulled back just enough to kiss her forehead, then her eyelashes, then the tip of her nose, before finally capturing her lips in a slow, unhurried kiss.

“I love you,” he murmured against her mouth.

“I love you too,” Ivory said, laughing through her tears. “Say it again.”

“I love you.”

“Again.”

He laughed weakly, kissing her once more instead of answering, and she melted into it, unwilling to let go.

Across the room, Arielle had buried her face in both hands. “Oh my GOD, someone stop them, I’m going to cry harder than I already am.”

Ariel wasn’t even trying to hide it, tears streaming freely down his face as he watched his brother — his actual brother — alive and kissing the woman who’d flown across an ocean twice for him.

Mr. Hale cleared his throat pointedly.

Duane and Ivory finally broke apart, and Duane’s gaze swept the room properly for the first time, landing on face after unfamiliar face — the older couple standing close together, tears in both their eyes, the young man who looked like he’d been crying for hours, the young woman practically vibrating with emotion beside him.

His brow furrowed. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice still rough. “I don’t— who are you all?”

The door opened before anyone could answer, a doctor rushing in, clearly having been alerted the moment the monitors registered the change.

“He’s awake.” The doctor’s face broke into genuine, relieved surprise as he crossed to the bed, running quickly through his checks — pupils, reflexes, pressing gently along the bandaged wound. “Vitals are strong. Everything looks remarkably good, all things considered. The wounds still need time to finish healing, but—” he shook his head slightly, still visibly stunned, “—this is nothing short of a miracle.”

He made a few final notes and stepped back out, leaving the room to the family, and Duane’s confused gaze returned to the strangers gathered around his bed.

Mrs. Hale cleared her throat softly, stepping closer. “Duane. There’s a lot to explain, and I know this is going to be difficult to hear all at once, but—”

She told him everything, gently, carefully — the hospital switch twenty-eight years ago, Alice, the years of searching, the moment they’d seen his face and known instantly. Ivory took over partway through, filling in the parts about the orphanage records, Celeste’s shock, the DNA confirmation that had come back while he was still unconscious.

Mr. Hale produced a folded document and pressed it gently into Duane’s hands.

Duane stared down at it, his own name printed beside a percentage that left no room for doubt, and before he’d even finished reading the second paragraph, tears were sliding freely down his face.

“I know Celeste isn’t my birth mother,” he said, voice cracking. “I’ve known that my whole life. But she’s still my mother. She raised me with nothing and gave me everything.” He looked up, overwhelmed. “And now you’re telling me I’m— what, the son of the richest family in Canada? I don’t even know how to process that.”

“You don’t have to process it all tonight,” Mrs. Hale said softly.

Arielle, unable to contain herself a second longer, blurted, “Brother, I want to go shopping with you.”

A startled, watery laugh broke free from Duane despite everything, and it seemed to shatter whatever careful composure the room had left.

Mr. and Mrs. Hale crossed to the bed together and pulled him into a careful, tearful embrace, mindful of his healing chest, and after a stunned moment, Duane’s arms came up around them both, holding on.

Arielle grabbed her brother’s arm and dragged him into the hug as well, and Ariel went willingly, and within seconds the whole family was wrapped around the hospital bed together, crying and laughing in the same breath.

Ivory stood back for a moment, watching, her own face wet with tears, something warm and aching blooming in her chest at the sight of him — finally, finally surrounded by people who loved him, who’d fought for him, who’d never stop now that they’d found him.

Then Arielle’s hand shot out, pulling her into the pile too, and Ivory laughed through her tears, letting herself be folded into the middle of it all.

—