chapter 88

Lyra’s POV

The beeping of the machines was the only sound in the room. The steady rhythm of James’s heartbeat echoed through the sterile hospital walls, but he was barely there, his body lying lifeless, connected to wires and tubes that were keeping him breathing.

I stood at the foot of the bed, my wedding gown now crumpled and stained, looking so out of place in this cold, white room. I felt frozen, my hands clenched tightly in front of me. The weight of everything that had happened pressed down on me so heavily I could hardly breathe.

James was alive, but just barely. The doctors had said it was touch-and-go. The blow to his head had caused a severe concussion, and his body wasn’t responding the way it should. Every breath he took sounded like it was borrowed time.

I should have been relieved. Relieved that he was still here, still breathing. But all I felt was guilt. Guilt that he was lying there because of me. Because of my choice to move on with my life.

“It’s your fault,” a sha