Chapter 51 HANDS OFF MY PERSON

Chapter 51 HANDS OFF MY PERSON
Althea’s POV

It’s been three days since the accident.

Three days. And somehow, I’m still here. Still breathing. Still alive.

The first 24 hours after the ICU transfer were a blur. Machines. Alarms. Hands everywhere. But Rowan… he never left. Not for a second. Not even to eat or sleep. He barely blinked, barely moved, just stayed there, like he’d anchored himself to my bed, making sure I didn’t slip away while I was unconscious.

Now, in this VIP room that he somehow managed to get just for me, I can feel the difference. Everything is quiet, everything is soft. Pillows everywhere, blankets I don’t even remember asking for, water at my bedside, food I can barely eat—but he insists on feeding me himself. He says, “You’re my responsibility now. You rest. I handle the rest.”

I can’t describe how weird it feels to be taken care of this way. I’ve never been anyone’s responsibility like this. Not completely. Not fully. And yet… there’s Rowan. And it’s him.

Theo came by today. My Theo. The one guy in the office I can be totally myself with. He brought flowers—bright, ridiculous flowers—and the kind of card that made me laugh despite feeling weak. “I’m so sorry this happened,” he said. “But I’m glad you’re better.” Then he did something weird: he walked to the hospital chapel and prayed. Loud enough I could hear him mumbling a bit through the door. I didn’t tell him to stop. I didn’t even have the energy to tell him anything. It felt… nice. In a weird way, having someone else pray for me.

And then… Lisa happened.

I was sitting in the bed, quietly trying to eat a little soup Rowan brought me, when she barged into the room. Loud. Angry. Extra. I didn’t even see it coming.

“You spend too much time with her!” she shouted.

Rowan, calm as ever, didn’t even flinch. “Doesn’t she have other people who can take care of her? Doctors? Nurses?” she said.

“Lisa, you’re making a scene, this is a hospital, you have to comport yourself” Rowan said. 

But Lisa wasn’t listening. She came closer, her voice rising. “What’s all this rubbish you’re doing? You’re not her boyfriend. You’re not even family. Stop playing hero!”

Rowan didn’t answer immediately. He just stepped between her and me, like a shield. I didn’t need protection. I was barely able to move, barely able to speak. But he… he seemed ready to fight for me, even though I hadn’t asked him to.

“You—leave my boyfriend alone,” Lisa shouted, turning to him, her hands on her hips. “Stop being an attention seeker. You had your chance with him and you blew it. Now it’s my time, so stop the unnecessary drama. Who even knows if she’s actually sick or if she’s faking it?”

I froze. Faking it? Faking an accident? Faking three days of being almost dead? The words hit me in the chest. I wanted to say something. Anything. But my throat felt like sandpaper. I couldn’t. I just shook my head slowly, eyes filling with pity for both of them.

Rowan didn’t hesitate.

He raised his hand. And slapped her.

Hard.

I gasped, but I didn’t move. I couldn’t. My body was weak. My mind was trying to catch up to everything happening around me.

“Shut up,” he said, his voice sharp, unshakable. “You’ve said different things. I didn’t complain. But this… this is unacceptable.”

Lisa blinked. Stunned. Angry. And then furious.

“You raised your hand at me!” she screamed.

Rowan didn’t flinch. He looked at her with an almost bored seriousness.

“Consider this relationship over,” she said.

“What relationship?” Rowan, calm and cold, said, “I’m not in a relationship with you to begin with.”

The words hit her like a punch. Her face went red. She started shouting again but eventually stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

I couldn’t speak. I didn’t even want to. I just shook my head slowly, feeling both pity and… relief? The fight was over, I guess. But my chest still hurt. Rowan stood there, looking at me, worried, holding his hand out, and I couldn’t even tell him that I was okay.

Instead, I just watched him. And watched him quietly make sure I was comfortable. He pulled the blankets up, adjusted my pillow, fed me again. He didn’t scold me for eating slowly. He didn’t complain about my weak attempts at talking. He just stayed.

And I… I couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened.

Lisa had always been dramatic, but the way she yelled at Rowan… the way she called me fake… it made me realize something. Rowan cared more about me than anyone else. Even someone like Lisa, who clearly thought she could control everything and everyone, didn’t matter when it came to me.

It felt… overwhelming. I wanted to cry. But I didn’t. My body was too weak, my pride too stubborn, my emotions too tangled.

Theo knocked on the door again. Quietly this time. “Hey,” he said softly, holding the flowers. “I’m going to step out. Just… take your time. Rest. You’re safe.”

I nodded. I couldn’t speak. I just nodded.

Rowan stayed. Always stayed.

The funny thing? I realized I didn’t even have to tell him what I wanted. He just knew. A sip of water? Already in his hand. Pillow adjustment? Done before I asked. Soup too hot? He tested it. Blankets not right? He fixed them. I could barely sit up, but he made me feel… normal. Like I wasn’t just some weak, broken patient.

I watched him from the bed, exhausted, weak, silent, and realized… he hadn’t left my side since the accident. He didn’t blink. He didn’t pause. He was there.

I didn’t deserve him.

And yet, I couldn’t stop thinking about what I wanted. I wanted to tell him that I loved him. That I appreciated everything he had done. That I was sorry I had been so stubborn, so angry, so dramatic in the past.

But I couldn’t. Not yet. Not while my throat still hurt, not while my body still shook, not while Lisa’s words still echoed in my head.

And slowly, slowly, I closed my eyes, feeling a little safer than I had in days.

Rowan stayed there. Feeding me, comforting me, making sure every breath I took was easier than the last.

I realized then that sometimes love isn’t just words. Sometimes it’s being there. Even when it’s messy, dramatic, frustrating, impossible. Sometimes it’s someone holding your weak body and saying nothing—because nothing else matters.

And Rowan… Rowan was that for me.

I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t move much, but my heart knew.

And maybe… maybe that was enough for now.