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,

work out. Luke being there to hold me tight, and Janice supporting the both of us. With smiles all around our

would savor each moment.

ONE MONTH LATER

each 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 white doors. My

that whispered

and 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

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

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,

suffer is like no other. It seeps into your bones, twists your insides, and leaves you gasping for breath in a world that suddenly seems devoid of

raft, holding onto the hope

lonely stretches of darkness that seemed

sit by his bedside, holding his hand and watching the rise and fall of his chest, willing

that fell were a silent

and consuming that at times I felt it

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

and arduous, filled with setbacks and small victories that seemed like 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. The pain of these days and nights lingered like a scar, a reminder

to fight, but also ours. The pain of watching him suffer had

unbreakable, a bond that would carry us through the

brightest of days

would

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

uncertainty and pain