Chapter 143

Eleanor POV

Silence filled the hospital room, broken only by the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor. The sound marked seconds that stretched into eternities as I stared at Olivia, my eyes pleading with her to tell me about Derek. Words had abandoned me, leaving only desperate, silent communication—my fingers gripping the sheets, my gaze never leaving her face.

Olivia sat at my bedside, her fingers intertwined and restless in her lap. The hesitation in her eyes terrified me more than any words could have. My friend, who never minced words, was choosing hers carefully. Bad news, then. My heart raced faster, causing the monitor to quicken its pace.

Finally, Olivia took a deep breath and met my gaze.

"Derek is also in this hospital," she said, her voice gentle but strained. "He's in the intensive care unit."

The room seemed to tilt slightly, the walls contracting around me. I blinked, willing her to continue, though part of me didn't want to hear more.

"His injuries are... they're more severe than yours, Elle." Olivia's fingers twisted together more tightly. "Multiple internal injuries. He's still unconscious. The doctors say he took the brunt of the impact."

Each word landed like a physical blow. I felt the color drain from my face as my fingers clutched at the hospital sheets, anchoring myself to something solid while my world spun out of control.

"The medical team is doing everything they can," Olivia continued, her voice sounding distant now, as though she were speaking through water. "But they said his condition is... it's critical, Elle."

Tears formed silently, sliding down my cheeks without permission. I tried to speak, to ask questions, but my throat produced only a painful whisper of air.

It was him. He protected me. The realization crashed through me like a wave. The last image before I'd lost consciousness—Derek's arm stretching across me, his body turning to shield mine—replayed in my mind with cruel clarity.

I closed my eyes, seeing again the moment just before impact. The headlights flooding the car. Derek's face transforming from hope to horror in an instant. His instinctive move toward me rather than away. The determination in his eyes as he made a split-second decision to protect me at his own expense.

My eyes flew open, and I struggled to sit up. Pain shot through my shoulder and head, making me wince, but I didn't care. I needed to see him. I needed to be with him. A weak, involuntary sound escaped my throat as I tried to swing my legs over the side of the bed.

"Elle, stop!" Olivia's hands were instantly on my shoulders, firm but gentle, pressing me back against the pillows. "You'll hurt yourself worse!"

I shook my head, ignoring the stabbing pain the movement caused. I tried again to speak, to make her understand, but only raspy, meaningless sounds emerged.

"I know you want to see him," Olivia said, her voice softening as she maintained her restraining grip. "But you can't even walk right now. Your shoulder is barely reset. Your concussion needs time to heal."

I felt tears of frustration well up. Why couldn't she understand? Every moment Derek spent alone in that ICU was a moment too long. What if he woke up and no one was there? What if he...

I couldn't complete the thought.

Olivia's expression shifted as she watched me struggle, her own eyes filling with tears. "I can see how much you care about him," she said quietly. "But think about it, Elle—if you can't even take care of yourself right now, how are you going to be there for him?"

Her words landed with unexpected force. I stopped struggling, my breath coming in short, painful gasps.

"Derek protected you because he wanted you to be okay," she continued, her tone gentler now. "Do you think he'd want you risking your recovery right now?"

I closed my eyes, fresh tears escaping. She was right, and I hated it. I felt utterly helpless, trapped in a broken body while the person I loved fought for his life somewhere in this same building.

I tried to form words again, my lips moving silently: The answer... his question...

Olivia leaned closer, trying to understand. "You want to tell him something? Your answer to his question?"

I managed a small nod, relief flooding through me that she'd understood.

"I know," she said softly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from my forehead. "And you will tell him. But Derek protected you because he wanted you to be safe. If you hurt yourself more now, it would break his heart."

The fight drained out of me at her words. She was right. Derek would want me to heal first. I closed my eyes and let my head sink back into the pillow, the tears continuing to fall silently.

Olivia gently wiped them away with a tissue. "The doctor said your injuries aren't too serious. You should be able to get out of bed in about a week." She took my hand and squeezed it. "I promise I'll visit Derek regularly and let you know how he's doing. Every day. Every hour if you want."

I nodded weakly, trying to convey my gratitude through my eyes since my voice still failed me.

"And as soon as you're cleared to move around, I'll wheel you to his room myself, even if I have to fight every nurse in this hospital," Olivia added, a ghost of her usual fierce humor returning.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. The panic was subsiding, replaced by a cold, clear resolve. I would get better. I would heal. For him.

Olivia sat quietly beside me, still holding my hand. After a while, she spoke again, her voice low and firm. "Derek Wells is one stubborn bastard. I don't think he's going to give up easily, especially not after finally telling you how he feels."

I opened my eyes at that, finding her watching me with unexpected compassion.

All this time, I'd been so afraid to hope, to believe that Derek's feelings for me could be real. And now, when we'd finally begun to bridge the distance between us, fate had cruelly intervened.

But I wouldn't let that be the end of our story. I couldn't.

As evening deepened into night, rain began to patter softly against the window—the same weather as yesterday, yet carrying entirely different meaning now. Olivia had fallen asleep in the chair beside my bed, her head tilted at an uncomfortable angle that would surely leave her with a stiff neck in the morning.

I stared out at the rainy darkness, my thoughts reaching across the hospital toward wherever they were keeping Derek. In the quiet of my mind, where my voice still worked perfectly, I called out to him.

Wait for me, Derek. Please wait for me. This time, I won't hesitate. This time, I won't be afraid.

The promise formed in my heart, clear and unshakable. When—not if, but when—Derek opened his eyes, I would be there. And I would tell him that my answer was yes. Yes to starting over. Yes to everything.

We had wasted too much time already.