The Love From Vengeance

341: HOLDING ON

ARIEL’S POV

Janice furrowed her brows, concern etched across her features. “Mom, you shouldn’t be pushing yourself like this. You’re hurt.”

“I know, sweetheart,” I sighed, wincing as I adjusted myself on the bed. “But I had to make sure your dad

was okay.”

“But the doctors are taking care of him, right?”

“Yes, they are.” I nodded, reaching out to gently stroke her hair. “But I just needed to see him for myself, you know?”

Janice nodded, her eyes filled with understanding. “I get it, Mom. But please, promise me you’ll take it easy. You need to focus on getting better too.”

“I promise,” I replied, offering her a weak smile. “Now, how about we both try to get some rest? We could

use it.”

Janice nodded, leaning against my shoulder. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

As we settled into the quiet room, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude wash over me. Together, we would confront numerous challenges, yet our unwavering unity would be the only thing that mattered.

L

Storms could come and chaos might unfold, but with my blood by my side, those terrors would be so

bootless,

my eyes, I had to think of the things ahead and how everything was going to work out. Luke being

would savor each moment.

ONE MONTH LATER

seemed endless, each step echoing the cacophony of emotions raging

The sterile smell permeated the air, a constant reminder of the stark reality that awaited me behind those

machines that whispered tales

pale, was a dagger to my soul. His once vibrant eyes dulled, mirroring the agony I felt within. I reached out to hold his hand, the touch so familiar yet foreign, as if he were slipping away with each passing moment. The beeping of the machines was a cruel symphony, and the rhythm of his heartbeat

which in turn led to endless hours of waiting and hopelessness The doctors came and went, their faces a mask of professionalism that did little to assuage my growing terror. Words like “critical–condition” and “uncertain

illness. His resilience was a beacon in the darkness a flicker of light that guided me through the long and torturous nights: 1 whispered words of encouragement and promises of better days to

in a world that suddenly seems devoid of color and joy. The quiet hum of machines replaced the laughter that once filled our home, and whispered prayers escaped my lips like a plea to the

of life. I clung to those moments like a drowning soul to a life raft, holding onto the hope that

and lonely stretches of darkness that seemed to stretch into

the rise and fall of his chest, willing him to

just a little longer. The tears that fell were a silent testament to the pain that gnawed at

raw and consuming that at times I felt it would swallow me

a future we might never share 1 would tell him of the dreams we had woven together and the plans we had made, hoping that

in the making I knew for a fact that we would go through it all, clinging to each other–two souls bound by a love that had

also ours. The pain of watching him suffer had forged a

a bond that would carry us through the darkest of times and

brightest of days

being optimistic, that any day soon we would walk hand in

force to be reckoned with, a beacon of hope in a world

uncertainty and pain