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,

to work out. Luke being there

would savor each moment.

ONE MONTH LATER

seemed endless, each step echoing the cacophony of emotions

burden I could barely carry. The sterile smell permeated the air, a constant reminder of the stark reality that

that whispered tales of his

hold his hand, the touch so familiar yet foreign, as if he were slipping away with each passing moment. The beeping of

doctors came and went, their faces a mask of professionalism that did little to assuage my growing terror. Words like “critical–condition” and

he struggled, his spirit unbowed despite the ravages of pain and 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 come, knowing deep

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

clung to those moments like a drowning soul to a life raft, holding onto the hope that They would

long and lonely stretches of

bedside, holding his hand and watching the rise and fall of

were

and consuming that at times I felt it

the steady beep of the machines, I would whisper words of love and devotion, promises of 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 somewhere in the

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

ours. The pain

that was unbreakable, a bond that would carry

brightest of days

any day soon we would walk

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

uncertainty and pain