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,

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

would savor

ONE MONTH LATER

seemed endless, each step echoing the cacophony of emotions raging within me.

constant reminder of the stark reality

that whispered tales

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

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

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 onto a reality that was

breath in a world that suddenly seems devoid of color and joy. The quiet hum of machines replaced the laughter that once

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 alone was not always a match for the cruel hand

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

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

fell were a silent testament to the pain

times I felt it would swallow me

devotion, promises of a future we might never share 1 would tell him

go through it all, clinging to each other–two souls bound by a love that had weathered the

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

carry us through the darkest

brightest of days

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

reckoned with, a beacon

uncertainty and pain