Investing In My Crippled Wife Every Return Makes Me Stronger Chapter 87

[ … words ]

The sweet and lovely melody of the voice drifted down through the freezing void, growing clearer and more resonant with every passing second.

“Soren…”

The sound rippled through the endless dark, instantly halting his slow descent. The fog wrapping around his mind began to clear, and his true consciousness surged violently back to the surface.

It was because he recognized that voice.

’E… Et… Ethea…’

The realization struck him with immense force, instantly burning away the lingering whispers of his past. The fragile, broken identity of his teenage self vanished entirely as his adult frame reclaimed its shape in the dark.

’Urgh…’

She was out there, waiting for him, and she was the one holding his hand so tightly.

The gentle heat radiating through his fingers became a brilliant lifeline, anchoring him to the waking world.

’I… have to wake up. I can’t…. stay here.’

’I have to… get back to her.’

With a fierce, desperate rally of his own spirit, Soren threw his entire weight into the ascent, breaking through the final layer of suffocating darkness.

Gaspppp!

His eyes snapped open, and he bolted upright in the hospital bed, his chest heaving violently as he drew in a sharp, frantic breath of sterile air. Sweat soaked his forehead, and his heart battered against his ribs like a panicked bird.

The world was a blinding smear of white.

Slowly, the blurred shapes around him began to solidify, resolving into rows of blinking monitors, the quiet hum of advanced medical machinery, and the clean, clinical lines of an intensive care unit.

But his attention immediately locked onto his right side.

“…”

Ethea was sitting in her wheelchair, her body positioned close to the bedside. Unable to move her torso, she had tilted her head forward as much as she could, her face pale and etched with an intense, lingering worry that instantly softened the moment their eyes met. Her fingers were wrapped tightly around his right hand, functioning exactly like the stubborn anchor from his dream.

No doubt about it. The warmth he had felt in the deep dark belonged entirely to her.

“Soren,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly as a wave of pure relief washed over her features. “You are… awake.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, shimmering under the stark clinic lights. Despite the profound stillness of her body, the raw emotion vibrating in her voice filled the quiet space between them, pulling him completely out of the remnants of his nightmare.

“…Hm.”

Soren tried to speak, but his throat felt as dry as sandpaper, allowing only a faint, raspy breath to escape his lips. He squeezed her fingers back firmly but gently, using every ounce of his remaining strength to let her know he was truly there.

Ethea kept her eyes locked onto his, staring as if she were terrified that he might vanish back into the void. A shaky breath escaped her lips, and the intense strain on her pale face finally began to ease.

“Don’t… try to talk yet,” she then murmured, her voice still rough around the edges. Her fingers remained pressed tightly against his hand. “Your lungs need rest. Just… breathe.”

Soren gave a slow, barely perceptible nod. His chest still ached with every rise and fall, a sharp reminder of the physical toll his body had endured, but the agony was real.

It meant he was… alive.

’…’

A barrage of unanswered questions immediately swirled in his mind, leaving him entirely in the dark about how he had managed to survive and end up here, but he ruthlessly pushed the confusion aside to focus on the reality right in front of him.

He let his gaze drift across Ethea’s face, taking in the dark circles bruising the skin beneath her eyes. She looked completely exhausted, as though she had stayed by the bedside for days without a single moment of rest.

A sharp ache bloomed in his chest at the sight, a profound, indescribable emotion welling up deep inside him as he realized just how much his condition had weighed on her.

“I thought…” Ethea started, her voice catching slightly before she forced her expression to harden with a quiet, stubborn resolve. “I thought you were going to leave me behind.”

Soren squeezed her fingers again, a direct answer to her fear. He swallowed hard, forcing a small pocket of moisture into his parched throat until he could finally manage more than a raspy sigh.

“…Never,” he breathed out.

The word was incredibly quiet, little more than a rough whisper that scraped against his throat, but it carried the absolute weight of his resolve.

“Mm… Me too…”

Ethea muttered before letting out a long, slow breath as the final remnants of her anxiety slipped away.

Her eyelids grew incredibly heavy, fluttering several times as she fought a losing battle against the compounding fatigue. Slowly, her resistance crumbled, and her head tilted sideways until it came to rest naturally against her right shoulder.

Her fingers, however, maintained their protective grip on his hand, keeping their connection perfectly secure even as her awareness faded.

The room fell into a deep, comforting quiet.

Soren remained perfectly still, suppressing the urge to shift or clear his throat to ensure he did not disturb her. He simply lay there, tracking the rhythmic rise and fall of her shoulders.

Eventually, the heavy fatigue she had been fighting for a while had finally won, her breathing growing deeper and more even by the second until she was completely asleep at his bedside.

A faint smile touched Soren’s lips during the silence, his gaze softening as he watched her peaceful face.

He found himself captivated by the stillness of the moment, completely oblivious to the sheer warmth reflecting in his own eyes, just as he failed to recognize the subtle shift occurring deep within his own heart.

It was an entirely foreign feeling; for someone who had spent his entire life armor-plated in indifference, the simple sight of her resting securely by his side brought a profound sense of peace he had never experienced before.

Anchored by this newfound tranquility, he let his eyes drift downward.

The future remained an unpredictable blur, and he had no idea what tomorrow would bring, or how they would navigate the challenges ahead, but as he stared at their intertwined fingers, he knew one thing with absolute certainty.

He was glad he came back.