Chapter Three: Fractured Bonds

As we sped to the hospital, I sat next to Lena as she gripped my hand tight. As we pulled up to the hospital, everyone jumped out, rushing inside. Getting to the front desk, my father began to ask where Nicholas was when a doctor came up behind us.

"Family of Nicholas Blackthorn?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm his wife, Lena", Lena answered, her voice quivering. “is he okay?”

"I’m Dr. Carter. Nicholas sustained severe injuries in a car accident. He has multiple fractures in his legs and spine. Unfortunately, he might not regain full use of his legs."

Lena gasped, and I felt her grip tighten on my arm. Seeing her like this, so fragile and vulnerable, stirred something in me. I wanted to hold her and take away all her pain.

"Can she see him?" I asked for her because I could see she was seconds away from having a breakdown.

Dr. Carter nodded, and I went to let go of Lena's hand to let her follow the doctor, but she gripped my hand tighter, telling me that she wanted me with her.

Together, we followed Dr. Carter down the sterile, white hallway, the antiseptic smell familiar yet unsettling. I'd walked these halls countless times as a nurse, but this time, knowing someone in my family was lying at the end made my heart pound erratically.

We entered Nicholas’s room, and seeing him there, unconscious and vulnerable, with tubes and machines attached to him, sent a jolt through me. Despite my training, I wasn't prepared to see him like this. His strength, his command—the very essence of who he was—seemed diminished.

Lena's breath hitched, her eyes welling with tears. "Nicholas," she whispered, her voice breaking. She took a tentative step forward, her hand reaching out but not quite touching him, as if fearful her touch might shatter him completely.

I squeezed her shoulder gently, providing some form of unspoken support. "He's strong, Lena. He'll pull through this," I said, keeping my voice strong for her.

Lena nodded weakly, her gaze never leaving Nicholas. “Do you really think so, Emma?” she asked, turning her tear-streaked face towards me.

“I do,” I lied, wishing to soothe her, but my own heart was plagued with doubt.

For a moment, there was just the hum of machines and the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor. The room felt heavy as if all our fears, sorrows, and worries had settled into the very air we breathed.

"I'm sorry this happened to him," I whispered, unsure of who or why I was apologising.

Lena's expression hardened slightly, and she wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. “He shouldn’t have been out driving. We were supposed to have dinner, and he just left! Why would he do that?”

I knew why she was acting like this; it was normal for people with loved ones who had been hurt, but it was harder seeing it come from her. I was about to respond when I noticed Dr. Carter standing quietly in the corner, watching us with a sympathetic expression. "I’ll give you some privacy," he said softly, gesturing toward the door.

“Thank you,” I said, nodding. As he left, Lena finally stepped closer to Nicholas, her fingers lightly grazing his bandaged hand.

“What if he doesn’t recover? What if he never walks again? This could ruin everything,” she muttered under her breath, though loud enough for me to hear.

I frowned slightly, taken aback. “Lena, right now, he needs us to be strong for him, not worry about how this affects anyone else.”

Lena scoffed, her eyes narrowing. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one married to him. You don’t understand the pressure.”

I bit my tongue, resisting the urge to argue. This wasn’t the time, and she was just hurting and trying to find a way to deal with it. “You love him, and he loves you. That’s what will get him through this,” I said instead.

My words seemed to mollify her somewhat, and she turned back to Nicholas, softly stroking his hair. “I hope you’re right.”

The door swung open, and our father stepped in, his expression a mixture of concern and impatience. “How is he?” he demanded, his eyes darting toward the machines as if he could decipher the medical jargon just by looking.

“He's stable, but it’s too early to say anything definitive about his recovery,” I replied, keeping my voice steady.

My father’s frown deepened, and he folded his arms. “This couldn’t have come at a worse time. The company can’t afford a setback like this.”

“Dad, please,” I said, shaking my head slightly. “Nicholas’s health should be our primary concern right now.”

He sighed, his frustration evident. “Of course, of course,” he muttered, though I could see the gears turning in his head. He was already plotting the next steps for damage control.

Lena turned around. “I want to go home.” She demanded, catching me off guard because I knew that if that was my mate, I wouldn’t want to leave their side. But I wasn’t her, and everyone deals with hurt in different ways, I reminded myself.