94
Nicholas’s POV
Hazel might have a different way of thinking, but I knew she loved Charlie in her own way. Although sometimes, I wasn’t sure if that love always brought goodness. The pair and complexity we faced made me wonder if love could be a burden or rather a strength that bound us.
I took a deep breath, feeling heavy in my chest. As I walked back into the hospital, I was determined to find a way for our love to be a source of support, not conflict. We needed to learn to understand each other, even if the journey might not be easy.
I sighed deeply and then walked back to my room. In my mind, images of Hazel and Charlie kept playing along with thoughts of Sabrina, who still lay weak in the ICU.
I felt as if I were being pulled in two conflicting directions: the desire to stay with Sabrina and the guilt that lingered in my heart for not being able to fully attend to Charlie.
Eventually, I decided to go to the ICU instead of returning to my room as Hazel had instructed. Even though I knew I had to take care of myself, I couldn’t ignore the sense of responsibility weighing on my mind.
Each step toward the ICU felt heavy, but I knew my presence there could provide a little hope for Sabrina and perhaps for myself as well.
Upon reaching the ICU, I paused for a moment. The glass wall separated me from the room where Sabrina was being treated. She still lay in bed, connected to various medical devices.
Her face was pale, looking so fragile. My heart sank. Seeing her in such a state filled me with a deep mix of pain and worry. Every passing second felt like an increasingly heavy burden.
I wanted to get closer, to reach for her hand and give her encouragement, but the glass wall seemed to block me. Taking a heavy breath, I tried to calm myself. This was not just about me or Charlie; it was about Sabrina and her struggle. I knew I had to remain strong, not only for myself but for her.
I pressed my hand against the cold glass in front of me. It felt as though I wanted to reach out and touch her, but she was too far away, too untouchable.
I observed Sabrina’s face, which appeared so peaceful despite her chaotic condition. In that silence, I tried to find calmness, but what I felt was only a turbulent emotion that was hard to explain.
Every heartbeat felt heavier, and panic began to creep in slowly. I remembered all the beautiful memories we shared, and the fear of loss intensified. In this uncertainty, hope and despair clashed, making me feel trapped in an endless emotional limbo.
I wanted to believe that she would recover soon, but the shadow of the worst possibility continued to haunt me. This moment, in front of that cold glass, felt like a turning point that would shape my future and my relationships with those I loved.
A nurse standing near the ICU door glanced at me for a moment, then walked over. “Mr. Nicholas?” she asked politely.
I nodded. “How is she?” I asked quietly, as if afraid my question would shatter Sabrina’s tranquility.
The nurse took a small breath before answering. “Her condition is still critical, sir. The doctors are continuously monitoring her progress, but for now, all we can do is wait
Waiting. That word sounded like a sentence. I nodded slightly, then thanked her before returning my focus to Sabrina.
“Why aren’t you waking up?” I murmured softly, almost as a whisper to myself. “I know you’re strong. You’ve always been strong. So why does it feel like you’re giving up now?!
My heart felt tight. Sabrina had always been someone I admired–not just because she loved Charlie with all her heart, but also for her strength in facing life. She was someone who always gave more than she had, even when life dealt her many hardships.
Yet here she was now, lying helpless, as if all the burdens she carried had finally become too heavy to bear. Seeing her like this shattered me. My respect and admiration for her mixed with guilt for not being able to protect her from all of this.
I remembered the moments when she uplifted others, when she became a light in the darkness. Now, it felt as if that light had dimmed, and I felt lost. In the silence, I prayed that she could find the strength she had always shown us all. I hoped she could rise again, just as she always had.
My thoughts drifted back to the past. Times when Sabrina and I were together, trying to create a stable life for Charlie.
I remembered her smile when Charlie took his first step, her face shining with pride. I remembered her warm embrace when I came home late from work, how she always knew how to make me feel accepted and loved. All those memories now felt like thorns piercing me, reminding me of how beautiful those moments were and how fragile life could be.
The pain from this memory makes me long for her strong and spirited presence. Now, as she reaches the brink, I feel empty. Every laugh, every moment of happiness we once shared seems like an unreachable memory, trapped behind this glass wall.
With each heartbeat quickening, I try to remember that this is not the end of everything. I sincerely hope that Sabrina will rise again, and we will create more beautiful memories for Charlie.
I also cannot ignore Hazel. She is different, tough, and sometimes too ambitious. But I know she does everything for Charlie. So, how can I reconcile these two sides? Two women with different but equally sincere love for my child.
My heart is chaotic. I feel like I’m standing in the midst of a storm without knowing where to step next. Every decision I make feels heavy, as if it carries significant weight for Charlie’s life and everyone around me.
Sabrina and Hazel each have their own way of loving and caring for Charlie. If Sabrina symbolizes tenderness and sincerity, then Hazel represents strength and determination. They complement each other, but I’m confused about how to bridge this difference without hurting either of them.
Sabrina, who lies before me, is someone I want to protect. But Hazel, in every way, is the mother of my child. Is it possible to love both without hurting one?
I don’t know how long I stood there. All I know is that when I finally returned to the waiting chair outside the ICU, my body felt exhausted, not just from the pain in my forehead but also from the inner turmoil that constantly haunted me. With trembling hands, I took my phone and opened the gallery. Photos of Sabrina and Charlie smiling happily filled the screen. They looked so peaceful. I wondered when I would see that smile again.
“I will wait, Sabrina, “I whispered. “Whatever happens, I will stay here.”
