Eighty-Eight

I shifted uncomfortably at the edge of the hospital bed, unable to look Atlas in the eye. My heart was racing, my breaths coming in shallow, uneven gasps. I could barely stand to be in the same room with him. How could I explain what had happened? What had become of my life that had led me to this unbearable point of being at the mercy of Mitch?

I looked down at my trembling hands, then at Atlas, who lay there with his usual calm demeanor. It was a look that I knew well—a look that had once been a source of strength for me. Now, it was a mirror reflecting all the mess and confusion I had brought upon myself.

"Um," I started, my voice wavering, "I—I think I need to call in another nurse."

I fumbled for the emergency button, my fingers slick with sweat. As soon as I pressed it, a sense of relief mixed with dread washed over me. I glanced at Atlas, desperate to catch any sign of understanding or forgiveness, but he kept his gaze fixed ahead.

Jessica arrived moments later with a bright sm