Chapter 98 This Is Not a Battlefield

Chapter 98 This Is Not a Battlefield

Terrence's POV

I was stuck in the basement of the Nelson estate, gripping a heavy pipe wrench, fixing an old rusty water pipe.

I suddenly applied force, the veins on the back of my hand bulging one by one.

I needed this kind of purely mechanical, physically demanding work.

Only when my muscles were sore, numb, and exhausted could those messy thoughts in my head temporarily quiet down.

I'd moved back to the estate exactly one week ago.

During those seven days, I hadn't sent her a single message, hadn't set foot in that apartment.

Like a coward, I'd shut myself off, forcing myself to forget Isabella.

But it was completely useless.

The motion of tightening the pipe couldn't suppress the thoughts flooding my mind.

Every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was her.

I clearly remembered she had a crucial rehearsal at the music academy this afternoon.

I also knew that useless Maurice had promised to pick her up today.

"Damn it." I cursed under my breath and slammed the wrench hard onto the cement floor.

Without even grabbing my jacket, I turned and rushed out of the basement.

I could barely remember how I drove to the music academy. I ran six red lights along the way and nearly crashed into a pickup truck at an intersection.

I kicked open the heavy glass door of the rehearsal room and immediately saw that useless Dustin failing to catch her properly.

Like a puppet with cut strings, she fell straight down and crashed onto the hard wooden floor.

A dull thudding sound rang out.

I rushed forward quickly, shoved aside Dustin who was kneeling on the ground trembling all over, and immediately crouched down beside her.

The back of her head had hit the floor hard, blood instantly gushing out, staining her blonde curls red.

I reached out my calloused hands to cup her face, my fingertips shaking completely out of control.

Her eyes were tightly closed, no response at all.

The piercing wail of an ambulance siren cut through the quiet street.

I don't remember how I followed the ambulance with the stretcher, or how I made it all the way to the hospital.

My brain was completely blank.

The ambulance made an emergency stop at the ER entrance of Metrocrest General Hospital.

Medical staff yanked open the back door.

"Move! Prepare for emergency treatment now!" the ER doctor shouted loudly.

The stretcher was quickly pulled out.

I stood under the glaring surgical lights, staring intently at the girl on the stretcher.

She was too quiet.

Her blonde curls were stuck together with dark red blood clots, most of her gray fitted T-shirt soaked through with blood, clinging tightly to her pale skin.

A transparent oxygen mask covered her nose and mouth, her weak breathing fogging up the mask with a thin layer of white mist.

She lay motionless, like a lifeless body.

My heart instantly sank to the bottom, as if falling into an endless abyss.

"Isabella!"

Two desperate cries came from the end of the hallway.

It was Isabella's parents.

They'd just gotten off the plane, hadn't even had time to collect their luggage, and rushed straight to the hospital.

When Daisy saw Isabella covered in blood, her legs gave out and she collapsed on the floor, crying her heart out.

Milton's eyes were red, desperately trying to rush in to see Isabella.

"Family members stop here! The patient needs immediate brain CT and bleeding control!" Two nurses blocked them firmly and forcefully closed the sliding door of the emergency room.

With a bang, the red emergency indicator light above the door suddenly lit up.

Only Daisy's desperate crying remained in the hallway.

Before long, Maurice also arrived.

He leaned against the hallway wall, face deathly pale, trembling all over, hands gripping his hair, collapsed in place unable to say a word, utterly pathetic.

I stared at the tightly closed emergency room door, my breathing becoming more and more rapid.

The strong, pungent smell of blood filled my nostrils, making me nauseous.

My vision gradually blurred, and the snow-white hospital walls slowly transformed in my eyes into that bombed-out base in Kanduz.

Blood everywhere flooded my mind. I saw Mosquito's half-blown-away body, heard the roar of machine gun fire, and the desperate cries for help from my comrades over the radio.

"Captain... save me..."

Fatal panic wrapped around my neck like a venomous snake, strangling me until I couldn't breathe.

"Damn it..."

I cursed under my breath, staggered around, and shoved open the restroom door at the end of the hallway.

I rushed into a stall, hands gripping the cold sink, my stomach churning violently.

"Urgh—"

I threw up everything in my stomach, even vomited out all the acid, my throat burning with searing pain, tears also flowing uncontrollably.

I turned on the faucet, repeatedly splashing cold water on my face.

Water droplets kept dripping down my jaw. I looked up at myself in the mirror.

Bloodshot eyes, head covered in cold sweat, face as pale as Maurice's beside me.

The hideous scar on my left forearm that had taken thirty-four stitches now felt like it was being burned by fire, sending waves of piercing pain.

"This isn't a battlefield." I stared at myself in the mirror, gritting my teeth and growling, "She'll be fine, she absolutely won't die!"

I gulped in cold air, forcibly suppressing the PTSD reaction sweeping through my body.

I couldn't break down at this moment.

She was still inside being treated.

I grabbed a few paper towels to wipe the water off my face, walked out of the restroom, and returned to the waiting area outside the emergency room.

Isabella's mother sat on the blue plastic bench, hands covering her face, shoulders shaking violently, crying until she was nearly exhausted.

Her father sat beside her, holding his wife tightly, eyes red, silent the entire time.

Maurice crouched in the corner like a frightened coward, at a complete loss.

I walked over and sat down on the bench across from Isabella's parents.

I didn't speak, didn't go forward to comfort them.

I just sat there like a cold stone statue, hands clasped together, elbows resting on my knees, staring intently at the red light above the emergency room.

I prayed frantically in my heart, begging every god for protection.

As long as she could wake up.

As long as she could be safe.

I swore that I would never hide from her again, never say hurtful things to her again.

I couldn't lose her.

I, Terrence, a veteran who crawled out of a pile of corpses, a man who couldn't even be sure if he'd sleep peacefully the next night, simply couldn't bear the consequences of losing her.

Time in the hallway stretched endlessly.

One hour.

Two hours.

Daisy across from me had cried herself out, leaning on Milton's shoulder, tears falling silently.

Elena had also arrived.

That professor who was usually strict and commanding in the rehearsal room, standing high above everyone, now looked like an ordinary frightened woman, sitting quietly at the other end of the bench, still clutching that conductor's baton tightly, saying nothing.

I got up and walked to the stairwell at the end of the hallway, pulled out my phone, and dialed my parents' number.