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 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. With smiles all

would savor each

ONE MONTH LATER

each step echoing the

smell permeated the air, a constant reminder of the stark reality that awaited me behind those

up to machines that whispered tales of his

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

to assuage my growing terror. Words like “critical–condition” and “uncertain prognosis hung in

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

seeps into your bones, twists your 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

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

were the hardest, long and lonely stretches of darkness

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

fight just a little longer. The tears that fell were a silent testament to the pain that

so raw and consuming that at times I felt

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 somewhere in the recesses of his unconscious mind, he would hear me and find the strength

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 of the fragility

was s not just his battle to fight, but also ours. The pain of watching him suffer

a bond that would carry us through the darkest of times and the

brightest of days

any day soon we would walk hand

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

uncertainty and pain