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,

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

would savor each

ONE MONTH LATER

each step echoing the cacophony of

the air, a constant reminder of the stark reality that awaited

machines that whispered tales

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

doctors came and went, their faces a mask of professionalism that did little to assuage my growing terror. Words like “critical–condition” and “uncertain prognosis hung in the air like a curse,

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

seems devoid

found solace in the memories we shared and in the love that bound us together through the trials and tribulations of life. I clung to those moments like a drowning soul to a life raft, holding onto the hope that They would be sufficient to rescue her from the abyss. But

were the hardest, long and lonely stretches of darkness that seemed to

bedside, holding his hand and watching the rise and fall

and fight just a little longer. The tears that fell were a

pain so raw and consuming that at times I felt it would swallow

quiet moments, when the rest of the world slept and the only sound was 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

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 weathered the storm and emerged stronger on

ours. The pain of watching him

that would carry us through the darkest of

brightest of days

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

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

uncertainty and pain