Micah sat in the cold, sterile hospital room, the hum of the machines the only noise breaking the oppressive silence. Snow’s hand, cool and fragile, lay in his. He had not left her side since the night of the attack, except for the moments he went to talk to his mother and Sheila, his once fierce resolve now a desperate hope that Snow would wake. He stared at her face, memorizing every contour, every detail, praying for the moment her eyes would open.
The door to the room opened quietly, and Doctor Angelo walked in, her expression grave. Micah’s heart pounded as he watched the doctor check Snow’s vitals. His eyes darted between the doctor’s face and Snow’s still form, searching for any sign, any hope.
“Don Micah,” Doctor Angelo said softly, her eyes meeting his. “She’s showing signs of improvement. She may wake up soon but I have to tell and I am very sorry to say this but, before you came back here she miscarriages the baby did not make it, my condolances.”
The heavy words hung in the air, at one side a lifeline a hope she would wake up soon but on the other side a grief of losing his first child, their unborn baby. In the sea of despair that started swallowing him Micah nodded, unable to trust his voice. He looked back at Snow, willing her to wake, to come back to him not knowing how he was going to tell her about the loss of their baby.
Minutes stretched into an eternity, but then, as if responding to his silent plea, Snow’s eyelids fluttered. Her fingers twitched in his hand. Micah leaned forward, his heart racing.
“Snow?” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Snow, can you hear me?”
Her eyes slowly opened, unfocused at first, then slowly, recognition dawned. She looked at him, her gaze soft and full of love, and a weak smile tugged at her lips.
“Micah…” she murmured, her voice barely audible.
Tears streamed down his face, and he pressed her hand to his lips. “I’m here, Snow. I’m right here.”
As Snow’s consciousness returned, so did the memory of what had happened. Her eyes widened, panic setting in. “The baby… Micah, the baby…”
Micah’s heart shattered. He had been dreading this moment, hoping against hope that he would never have to tell her. He took a deep breath, his voice trembling.
“Snow, our baby… didn’t make it. I’m so sorry.”
Her face contorted in pain, and a heart-wrenching sob escaped her lips. She clung to him, her body shaking with grief. Micah held her, his own tears mixing with hers, his heart breaking anew.
In the hours that followed, Micah’s grief transformed into a burning rage. He had lost too much, and he knew who was responsible. He kissed Snow’s forehead, whispering promises of revenge, and left the room with a deadly calm.
Micah’s men, loyal and ready, were waiting. The orders were swift and clear: no mercy. The night became a blur of violence, each strike, each shot, a balm to his wounded soul. He moved with precision, a predator among prey, his anger fueling his actions.
As Micah exacted his revenge, his mother, Anastasia, was working her own plans. She had never approved of Snow, considering her a distraction from Micah’s true responsibilities. Anastasia believed that Sheila, Micah’s contract wife, and her daughter were the rightful place of stability in his chaotic world.
“Sheila, darling,” Anastasia said, her voice smooth and persuasive, “Micah needs you. He’s lost and angry. You and your daughter can help him find his way back.”
Sheila, ever the dutiful, agreed. She had long accepted her role in Micah’s life, have come to an understanding the complexities of this bloody world that there was no mercy and so she had no choice as to do what her mother in law told her to do even though she was not completely behind her ideas. With Anastasia’s encouragement, she prepared to re-enter Micah’s life, ready to offer comfort and stability feeling lonely herself.
Micah returned home, his clothes stained with the blood of those who had wronged him. The sight that greeted him was a stark contrast to the violence he had just unleashed. Sheila and her baby daughter sat in the living room, Anastasia standing nearby, her expression triumphant knowing very well what had caused her sons distress.
“What is this?” Micah demanded, his voice cold and hard.
“Micah, you need your family,” Anastasia said. “Sheila and your daughter are here for you.”
Micah’s eyes blazed with fury. “I don’t need this. I need Snow.”
“She’s weak, Micah. She will only bring you down,” Anastasia argued. “Sheila can give you the stability you need.”
Micah’s jaw clenched. He knew his mother was wrong, but he also knew that the world they lived in left no room for vulnerability and that for some dark reason his mother was hell bend on wanting Snow out of his life. Her presence would always be a point of contention, a weakness his enemies could exploit and that now involved his own mother!.
That night, as Snow slept fitfully in the hospital, Micah made the hardest decision of his life. He had grown to love her deeply even though he had fought his own feelings for a long time after what Snow had done to him but it seemed that he had forgiven her the moment he heard about their baby, but now he could not protect her if she stayed in his world. He could not bear to see her hurt even more.
The next morning, Micah returned to the hospital, his heart heavy with the decision he had made. Snow looked at him with hopeful eyes, but the look on his face made her smile fade.
“Micah, what’s wrong?”
He sat beside her, taking her hand in his. “Snow, I…I can’t protect you here. My world is too dangerous for you. You need to go home, away from all of this.”
Her eyes filled with tears, and she shook her head. “No, Micah. I want to be with you. We can face this together I had a dream and…..”
He cupped her face in his hands, his own tears falling freely. “Snow, please. You don’t deserve my mother’s wrath, you deserve a life free of this violence and pain. You deserve to be safe and happy after all what you have suffered in life.”
She sobbed, clinging to him. “But I need you, Micah. I love you.”
Upon hearing her confession his eyes widened slightly.
He pressed his forehead against hers, his heart breaking with every word. “I love you too, Snow. That’s why I have to let you go. It’s the only way to keep you safe.”
The following hours were a blur of sorrow and heartbreak. Micah arranged for some of his most trusted man to bring her back from the hospital to a safe house and from there on, to his mines where they spend their last moments together. Their goodbye was a moment of unbearable pain, both of them knowing that their love and connection, though true and deep, could not withstand the brutal reality of his world this time.
As he watched her go down the rocky pathway and then trough the portal he watched as she tried closing it, body responding and connecting with the magical world itself upon entering.
His heart shattered. He had lost everything he had fought to protect. His mother’s machinations had succeeded, and though Sheila and her daughter were there, they were a cold comfort to his broken heart.
Before the portal completely closed up Snow stretched her hand out to him which he took.
“Please come back, don’t leave me here Micah” she whispered with shiny orbs full of tears feeling her heart cut out again by a human.
He kissed her one last time and secretly slipped a piece of paper in her pocked before he leaned back, allowing the portal to close fully, watching Snow on the other side standing in the cold wasteland, breaking down into sobs.
Trough the cold winds and fog her face slowly disappeared, taking her away from his life, leaving him cold and alone.