Chapter 188 ***

Chapter 188 ***
Maria Styles

The operating room doors finally swing open.
I am already on my feet before I even realize I have moved. Joseph reaches the doctor at almost the same time I do, but I barely notice him because my entire world narrows to the exhausted surgeon standing in front of us.

Questions tumble out of my mouth one after another before he even has the chance to remove his surgical cap. My heart pounds so loudly that I can hardly hear my own voice, and all I can think is that I need him to tell me my son is alive.

"Doctor, how is he?" I ask breathlessly. "Is he alright? Is he awake? Did he lose too much blood? Is he going to be okay?"
Joseph gently places a hand on my shoulder.
"Maria," he murmurs softly. "Let him speak."

I know he's right, but I cannot stop myself. The doctor looks between both of us before a tired smile slowly spreads across his face.
"The surgery was successful."
Every muscle in my body suddenly relaxes.

"The bullet missed his vital organs," the doctor continues. "There was significant blood loss, but we were able to stabilize him. He's unconscious at the moment and will need close observation over the next several hours, but the operation itself went well."

For a moment, I stare at him before the tears come. I cover my mouth with one hand as a quiet sob escapes me, and before I know it, Joseph has wrapped his arms around me.
"Thank God," I whisper repeatedly.
Joseph closes his eyes.
"Thank God."

The doctor gives us a sympathetic smile.
"You may see him now. He's been transferred to one of our private recovery rooms, but please don't overwhelm him if he wakes up."
I nod quickly.
"Thank you, Doctor."
"No," he replies gently.
"Thank you for trusting us."

The moment he leaves, Joseph and I waste no time making our way toward Ethan's room. Every corridor suddenly feels far too long, every step slower than I want it to be. I keep imagining him lying there alone, and the thought makes me walk even faster. Joseph matches my pace without saying a word because he knows exactly what is going through my mind. When we finally reach the room, I hesitate for only a second before pushing the door open.

The room is quiet.
Machines hum softly in the background while the afternoon sunlight filters through partially drawn curtains. Ethan lies peacefully on the hospital bed, looking impossibly pale against the white sheets.

There are fresh bandages along his side, and several monitors quietly track his recovery. Seeing him so still makes my chest tighten despite the doctor's reassuring words.
I slowly walk to his bedside. Joseph remains near the door, giving me the space he knows I need. Carefully, I sit beside Ethan and reach for his hand.
His fingers are warm.

I gently wrap both of my hands around his and begin rubbing slow circles across the back of them. Looking at him now, it is difficult to believe this is the same determined man who threw himself into danger without hesitation to protect the woman he loves. To me, he is still the little boy who once looked at the world with guarded eyes and carried burdens far too heavy for his small shoulders. I smile through my tears.

"Mom is here," I whisper softly.
My voice trembles.
"You don't have to worry anymore."
I squeeze his hand gently.
"Just rest."

Another tear rolls down my cheek before I wipe it away.
"You've always tried so hard to protect everyone else, Ethan."
I lower my head slightly.
"But this time... let us take care of you."



Flashback

Three years have passed since Ethan came into our lives. By then, our home no longer feels unfamiliar to him. The quiet little boy who rarely speaks has slowly begun opening up, though he still keeps most of his feelings carefully tucked away. Every smile feels earned, every laugh feels like a victory, and every small step reminds me that healing takes patience.

I’m at the head of a long conference table inside the company headquarters, surrounded by executives from several companies. Charts are projected onto the large screen as discussions shift from quarterly reports to investment proposals. Everyone waits for my opinion before speaking, and I remain focused on the negotiations unfolding before me.

Halfway through the presentation, my phone vibrates. Without thinking, I glance at the screen.
Ethan’s nanny.
She rarely calls during working hours. A strange feeling settles in my stomach. I immediately raise one hand, and the room falls silent.
"I'll be right back,"
I say politely before answering.
"Hello?"

The nanny sounds worried.
"Ma'am... Ethan isn't feeling well."
My heart skips.
"What happened?"

"He isn't himself today. The family doctor came over to examine him, but Ethan refused to cooperate. He won't take his medicine, and he won't let anyone near him. He locked himself inside his room."
I am already gathering my things.
"I'll be there shortly."

The call ends.
Without another thought, I look toward the people seated around the table.
“This meeting will be continued at some other time.”

The meeting is adjourned almost instantly, and within minutes, I am already on my way home. The drive feels endless.

Every red light seems determined to keep me away longer, and by the time I pull into the driveway, I am practically running before the car fully stops.
The nanny meets me at the front door. Relief floods her face the moment she sees me.

"Thank goodness."
"Where is he?"
"Upstairs."
"The doctor?"
"He's waiting."
I hurry inside.

The family doctor steps forward almost immediately.
"I've done everything I can from out here," he explains calmly. "He isn't aggressive. He simply refuses to open the door."
I nod once.
"I'll talk to him."

The staircase suddenly feels much steeper than usual. When I reach the hallway outside Ethan's room, I stop for a moment before lifting my hand.
I knock twice using the same rhythm I have used ever since he first came to live with us. For several long seconds, nothing happens. Then the lock clicks. The door slowly opens.

Ethan stands there.
His face is flushed, and he looks tired, but the moment his eyes find mine, his tense shoulders finally relax.
A small, weary smile appears.

"Mom..."
The single word barely leaves his lips. Before I can answer, his knees give way beneath him.
"Ethan!"

The doctor reaches him first, gently supporting him before he can fall to the floor. Together, they guide him back to the bed so he can be properly examined. I remain standing in the doorway for a moment, unable to move, my eyes fixed on him.
I hardly hear the doctor's instructions or the nanny moving around the room.
All I can hear is that one word.
Mom.

It's the first time he is calling me mom. Other times, he just called me mother, which sounded formal coming from him, but there's something intimate about the way he said mom. Tears quietly filled my eyes again, and this time, I did not bother wiping them away.

Because in that single moment, I know that somewhere along the way, without either of us realizing exactly when it happens, Ethan stopped being the little boy I chose to love. He simply became my son.