Holden found himself momentarily taken aback, realizing that in her delirium, Ariana had mistaken him for her deceased husband.

However, Ariana had lost consciousness by this point, her body covered in blood. A deep crimson hue filled Holden’s eyes, and in that instant, he experienced an unprecedented fear. He hadn’t even noticed that his own hands were trembling.

“Ariana? Ariana!” Holden’s voice, tinged with both fear and distress, pierced the air.

In a swift motion, Holden cradled Ariana, rushing her into the waiting car, heading towards the hospital at breakneck speed.

Upon their arrival at Mercy Hospital, Holden, still gripped by panic, dashed inside. Holding Ariana close, he called desperately, “Doctor!

Doctor!”

their faces blanching at the sight of Ariana, a tapestry of red. They took her to the emergency room

place, his hands stained with Ariana’s blood, his entire frame quivering, the chasm of fear unlike any

this moment that he understood the depth

became a nebulous concept as he waited outside the emergency room, the minutes slipping through his grasp. It wasn’t until the doctor emerged that

harmed. Are you her husband? You

a wash of relief to Holden. He hesitated momentarily before accepting the role, a silent acknowledgment of their connection. He absorbed

the doctor departed, Ariana was transferred to a ward, her consciousness yet to

mind dwelling on the words

husband so profoundly? Five years had passed, yet she still

of time, Ariana slowly regained

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