Divorce to Destiny: Reclaiming My CEO Husband novel Chapter 522

(Winona)

Lisa’s body is sprawled awkwardly on the sleek office floor, and my heart nearly stops as I drop to my knees beside her.

“I’m Logan Bennett.” The sound of Logan’s voice, Lance’s voice, steady but sharp, slices through the haze of my panic.

I glance up at him. Neater haircut, lesser designer suit, but that is Lance Collins right there.

What the actual fuck is going on? No wonder she collapsed.

“I’m calling 911,” he says, his phone already to his ear. “St James Hospital is close.”

“Lisa!” I whisper, shaking her gently. Her skin feels clammy, her breathing shallow but steady. “Come on, Lis, wake up.” I turn her over to the recovery position. She is breathing but she isn’t waking up.

Logan lowers his phone. “Paramedics are on the way.” His gaze flickers between Lisa and me, worry etched into his expression. “Is she…?”

“She’s breathing,” I say. “But she’s not waking up.”

Logan crouches down, his movements deliberate and calm, and for a moment, his presence reminds me so much of Lance that my stomach knots. But then he speaks, his tone softer than Lance’s.

“Should we move her? Or leave her here?” He brushes the hair off her face in such a gentle way.

“Leave her,” I reply, across from him. “We don’t want to risk making anything worse.”

He nods as he makes eye contact. I almost faint because his eyes are just the same, but there’s something else in his eyes—a vulnerability Lance never allowed.

For all his jokes and charm, Lance had walls, emotional barriers he rarely let anyone behind. But Logan… Logan’s concern isn’t masked. It’s raw, unfiltered, and it throws me off balance.

I glance back at Lisa. “She’s probably just fainted from stress. This isn’t her scene. She’s more suited to running from the paparazzi than running into a boardroom.”

Logan almost smiles, a faint twitch of his lips. “She didn’t seem too thrilled to be here.”

“That’s putting it mildly.” My voice wavers, and I hate how unsteady I sound. I take a deep breath and focus on Lisa, softly rubbing her hand.

The distant sound of sirens grows louder, and relief floods my chest. “They’re almost here,” I say, more to myself than to Logan.

Logan shifts back, giving the paramedics room as they burst through the doors. They move with practiced efficiency, asking questions and checking Lisa’s vitals.

I step back too, folding my arms tightly across my chest, feeling more rattled than I want to admit. “Her name is Lisa Forbes. All her ID and insurance is in her purse.” I hand over Lisa’s bag. “Thank you. Has she any conditions you’re aware of? Has she been well lately?”

“Nothing I’m aware of. She did say she’d been throwing up all morning but we figured it was from nerves.”

“We’ll get her on fluids as soon as we can.”

As they work, Logan stands beside me, his hands tucked into his pockets. He’s watching Lisa, his brow furrowed, and there’s that vulnerability again—a softness that tugs at something inside me.

“Is she going to be okay?” he asks, his voice low. “I’m so sorry this happened.”

“We’ll take her to the hospital,” the paramedic says. “Her blood pressure is low,” and they lift her onto the stretcher.

I nod as they explain where they’re taking her.

“St James Hospital. It’s just the next block over. Go to the emergency and ask for her name.”

As they wheel her out, I glance at Logan. “I have a few minutes; do you mind if we talk?”

“Of course,” he says, his tone understanding. “Take a seat.”

“Who are you?”

“Lance didn’t tell you about me?” His question catches me off guard, and the rawness in his voice strikes a chord. “Were you friends?”

“The best for friends since high school, same as Lisa and my husband Jayden Brennan.”