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,

was going to work out. Luke being there to hold me tight, and Janice supporting the

savor each moment.

ONE MONTH LATER

step echoing the cacophony of emotions

heart was heavy with a burden I could barely carry. The sterile smell permeated the air, a constant reminder of the stark reality that awaited me behind those

machines that whispered

reached out to hold his hand, the touch so familiar yet foreign, as if he were slipping away with each passing moment.

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 prognosis hung in the air like a curse, a constant reminder of the fragility of life and the powerlessness of my love to shield him.

nights: 1 whispered words of encouragement and promises of better days to come, knowing deep down that I was grasping at straws, trying to hold

suddenly seems devoid of color and

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 deep down, I knew that love alone was not always a match for the cruel hand fate

of darkness that seemed to

hand and watching the rise and fall of his chest, willing him to hold

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

that at times

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 recesses of his unconscious mind, he would hear

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 love that had weathered the storm and emerged stronger on the other side.

fight, but also ours. The pain of watching

that would carry us through the

brightest of days

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

love was a force to be reckoned with, a beacon of

uncertainty and pain