Heaven knows how deeply relieved I felt when I noticed the faint movement of her fingers and the gentle flutter of her lashes revealing those lovely brown eyes I had been longing to see all this while.
It hadn't been easy, holding everything in the anger, the helpless frustration, the overwhelming fear. When she was rushed in, barely clinging to consciousness, I remember snapping at the doctors, demanding they do everything within their power to save her. And I meant everything. Nothing. Absolutely nothing was allowed to go wrong.
I remember telling them, "This is not a threat because if you truly do your best, it won't be. But pray God helps you if something does go wrong. I don't want to hear the word 'sorry,' and I definitely don't want to hear anything starting with 'S' once you walk out of those closed doors."
I made sure they understood me.
I told them to move her to their best VVIP suite the quietest wing they had. I didn't want any noise near her. She needed the best environment possible to recover in peace. Nothing less would do.
A faint smile tugged at my lips as I recalled the memory the panic in my voice, the desperation in my chest, and the way the doctors kept nodding, giving me constant reassurances that everything would be fine. I'd scared the hell out of them, no doubt. I could see it in their eyes, especially when they flinched at the sharpness of my tone.
But how could I not?
This was Isabella. My Ella. The woman who had unknowingly held my heart for years. Seeing her in that state, so fragile and pale, had nearly broken me. And yet now those fluttering lashes, those soft eyes it was enough to breathe again.
Even if she didn't know how much she meant to me… I did.
I had known Ella ever since we were children a sunny little girl of five with the brightest smile and the warmest heart. Isabella had always been cheerful, the kind of person who naturally looked out for everyone around her. But me? I was the total opposite. Cold.
Reserved. My guarded personality had been my shell for as long as I could remember, a shield forged through years of habit and discipline until it became who I truly was.
Having known Ella for so long gave me a clearer view of what she meant to me. We grew up together kindergarten, preschool, high school, and even the first few years of state college.
Later, duty and ambition pulled me overseas for further studies, where I completed my master's and PhD. But even then, I never let go. I made sure to keep tabs on her.
I couldn't help it. Leaving her was never truly an option. When life demanded distance, I responded the only way I knew how by providing for her, protecting her, and watching over her in silence.
I never once burdened her with my feelings. Having grown up alongside her, I knew her heart well enough to understand she wasn't ready, or maybe unwilling, to see me that way. And yet, I had loved her for as long as I could remember. Ella… she was everything… My Everything…
My thoughts were interrupted when the nurse's voice cut through the quiet.
"Ehm… Mr. Louis, so sorry for the disturbance. We'd like to wheel Miss Ella to the necessary department for some checks while we call on specialists to do their best."
She fidgeted slightly, choosing her words carefully, as though afraid of provoking me. "But we'll need your permission to proceed with the rest of her treatment."
I arched an eyebrow and fixed her with a sharp stare. "Is that even necessary? I don't want her disturbed unnecessarily. Why not call those specialists here instead?"
She blinked but maintained her composure. "It is possible, sir, but not for all procedures. I understand your deep concern for her, but please trust that we'll keep her stress minimal. Only a few departments will require her to move, and others will personally come here to attend to her."
A pause. Then I exhaled, loosening the tension in my shoulders. "Alright. No problem. But I won't tolerate any negligence or unnecessary strain on her. Think carefully before taking action. You may proceed."