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Chapter_106
Whitney’s heart plummeted, her breath catching in her throat as Nolan’s words struck like ice: He might not make it through the night.
The sterile world around her fractured—walls, lights, sounds—all disjointed pieces tumbling in slow motion. Panic clamped down on her chest. Her knees buckled, but something stronger than fear pulled her forward. Toward him.
Toward Ludwik.
“Ludwik…” she breathed, her voice no louder than a thought, trembling as she reached his bedside. He lay still—eerily still—swathed in white gauze and pale beneath the hospital’s cold, artificial lights. His powerful presence, the commanding force that had once loomed so large in her life, now reduced to a fragile shell.
It didn’t feel real.
Her hand hovered above his, then slowly lowered to brush the back of it. Cold. Lifeless. The contact sent a shiver through her.
He protected me. He took the bullet for me.
She gripped his hand tighter, as though her touch could anchor him to life. Could reverse the tide threatening to pull him away forever. Her tears welled up, and this time, she didn’t fight them.
“Please… don’t leave me,” she whispered, each word raw and cracking under its own weight.
Behind her, Nolan and Parker stood silently, their expressions grim with the weight of truths they didn’t want to speak aloud. Parker finally stepped forward, voice low.
“We’ll give you some time, Whitney. But… you need to be prepared. The doctors aren’t hopeful.”
She nodded faintly, her eyes never leaving Ludwik’s still face. Her chest felt like it was caving in under the pressure of what might come next. There had been so much between them—rage, betrayal, possessiveness—but also moments that had cut through all that noise. Moments that haunted her now.
He had tried to control her. To cage her.
And yet, when it mattered most, he had stepped in front of death to protect her.
What does that mean? What does it say about him? About me?
Was it love? Or something darker—a trauma-bound tether forged in survival and chaos?
She didn’t know. But whatever it was, she couldn’t let it end like this. Not in silence. Not with regrets.
Her voice shook as she leaned in, inches from his ear. “Ludwik… if you can hear me… I’m here. I’m sorry. For all of it. For the things I said. For the pain we gave each other. I just—” her voice cracked. “I just need you to fight. For me. For us. Whatever that means.”
The tears spilled freely now, tracing silent paths down her cheeks. She didn’t wipe them away. She didn’t look away. Her fingers tightened around his hand.
“I need you to wake up,” she whispered. “Please. I need you.”
But the only reply was the quiet, mechanical beeping of the monitor beside him—steady, but faint.
The thought crept in then, unwelcome but unstoppable: What if he never opens his eyes again?
The weight of that question was unbearable.
Time passed in an agonizing crawl. She didn’t know how long she sat there, her mind spiraling between memory and dread, until Nolan’s voice broke through the fog.
“Whitney.” He approached gently, his voice softer now. “You need to rest. He’s in good hands. But you need to take care of yourself too.”
She barely blinked. “I can’t leave him.”
“I know,” Nolan said, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “But he’ll need you strong. Not broken.”
She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. The room felt like a vacuum, pulling her deeper into the gravity of grief she wasn’t ready to face. Not yet.
Hours passed. Ludwik remained motionless, his body locked in stillness, caught somewhere between this world and the next.
And still, Whitney stayed.
She stayed not out of obligation, but something deeper. Something she couldn’t quite name yet. She didn’t know if it was forgiveness. Or hope. Or something closer to love. But for the first time in what felt like forever, she wasn’t running from it.
She was choosing to stay.
To fight.
Even if it meant waiting in silence for the heartbeat between now and never.
