Chapter 187 Catherine’s POV

Chapter 187 Catherine’s POV
The mechanical beep of the heart monitor was the only sound cutting through the quiet hum of the ICU recovery room. I sat in the uncomfortable chair pulling a flash against the side of the hospital bed, my fingers gently cradling Tyler’s large pale hand. His skin was warm again. For three days, he had drifted in a medically induced coma, trapped in a void while machines breathing for him. For three days, I hadn’t left his side, I wore a simple cotton sweater and dark trousers, my hair pulled back into a loose knot.

Behind me, the quiet click of the door handle broke the silence, I didn’t turn around immediately but the hesitant footsteps moving across the floor already exposed who it was. Richard stood a few feet away; his arms folded tightly across his chest. He looked exhausted to the hellish days we had all endured. The initial rage that had exploded in the emergency room had faded, replaced by a peaceful quiet; he hadn’t forgiven me yet, but he stayed at the hospital. “Any change?” Richard asked, his voice low and removed its cold fury.

“The nurse said they lowered his sedation two hours ago,” I replied softly, my eyes not leaving Tyler’s face, “his vitals are currently stable, they are waiting for him to just wake up on his own.” Richard let out a long, quiet breath, stepping closer until he was standing on the opposite side of the bed, looking down at his best friend. His jaw tightened; a faint twitch passed through his cheeks as he stared at the surgical tubes, the thick bandaging wrapping Tyler’s torso and the bruised skin surrounding the wound.

“I still can’t believe he really took a bullet for you,” Richard murmured, more to himself than to me, almost like he has been trying to process everything that had happened in the past few days, “I thought it was always an inside joke of having a small crush on you, I didn't actually believe that it would turn out like this.” I couldn’t bring myself to look at my son.

“I hated him,” Richard confessed suddenly, his voice cracking slightly as he stared at his best friend, “when he said those words at the restaurant... confessing his love for you while bleeding out... I felt like my world had been turned inside out. He was... no, he is my brother, Mom. My best friend and you... you are my mother, the idea of you two...” he trailed off, shaking his head unable to put the taboo into words.

“I know,” I said, a tear slipping down my cheek, “I hated myself for it too, I carried so much guilt, Richard. I thought I was a monster for allowing myself to feel something for him.”

“You’re not a monster,” Richard said quietly, the words hanging heavy between us, he looked at me with his dark eyes holding a weary different mix of pain, grief and a faint light of understanding, “Micheal was the monster while you were just... trying to survive.” Before I could answer, a low sound escaped from the bed, my heart thud violently against my ribs. I sat up straight, leaning over the mattress.

“Tyler?” Tyler’s long eyelashes fluttered, casting faint shadows over his pale cheekbones, a weak murmur tore from his throat as his fingers twitched weakly within my grasp. The heart monitor's rhythm quickened slightly, it's steady beep sped up as his brain fought its way through the fog of the anesthesia.

"Tyler, can you hear me?" I begged softly, my voice trembled with desperate hope, slowly, his eyes finally opened. They were hazy at first, unfocused as they swept over the tiles of the ceiling trying to coordinate himself in the bright light. He swallowed hard, his throat dry, as his brow furrowed, a sharp spike of pain from his chest. "Easy... don't try to move," I whispered softly, my free hand gently brushing a strand of his hair away from his forehead, "you're safe now."

Tyler's gaze drifted down, turning toward the sound of my voice. The moment his eyes locked onto mine, the fog of confusion vanished, replaced by a breathtaking warmth that took the air right out of my lungs. "Cath... erine..." he rasped, his voice barely a rough whisper.

"I'm right here," I sobbed, a breathless laugh escaped my lips as tears spilled freely down my face. A faint weak smile touched the corner of his lips as he squeezed my hand back, his grip surprisingly firm despite his physical state. His eyes swept over my face, taking in my swollen eyes and the exhaustion written all over my face. "Are you okay?" He breaks out, his chest rising shallowly beneath the bandages, "the bullet... didn't touch you... right?"

I shook my head, cleaning off the tears from my face, "no... it didn't, because you took it for me, you foolish boy," I wept, leaning down to press a soft lingering kiss against his warm knuckles, "you saved my life."

"I told you... I'm not letting anyone... hurt you," Tyler rasped, his voice growing slightly stronger. On the other side of the bed, Richard shifted his weight, his shoe scratching against the floor. Tyler's eyes flicked over, finally registering Richard's presence for the first time.

The room immediately grew quiet, a heavy pause settled over the three of us. Tyler didn't pull his hand away from mine, he simply looked at my son, his gaze holding a quiet respect, "Richard..." Tyler murmured weakly. Richard looked down at his best friend then let out a long exhale, the last lingering traces of his anger draining out of his body, leaving behind a half matured acceptance.

"You're an idiot, Tyler," Richard said, a small choked sound escaped his life as he reached out gently and patted Tyler's uninjured shoulder, "I'm glad you didn't die, so you can die by my own hand."

"Can you both not mention death again, I don't want to have another heart attack..." I said softly as Richard held me by the side with a soft smile on his face.