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. Luke being there to hold me tight, and Janice supporting the both of us.

would savor

ONE MONTH LATER

seemed endless, each step echoing the cacophony

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

up to machines that whispered

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 was a haunting melody that played on repeat in my

days had transitioned into nights, 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”

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

insides, and leaves you gasping for breath 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

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 deep down, I knew that love

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

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

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

that at times I felt it would swallow me whole.

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

each other–two souls bound by a love that had weathered the storm and emerged stronger on

fight, but also ours. The pain of watching him

that was unbreakable, a bond that would carry us through

brightest of days

soon we would walk hand in hand into

was a force to be reckoned with,

uncertainty and pain