Chapter 173 CHAPTER 173:A LIFE ON THE LINE
Wayne sat in the sterile hospital waiting room, his hands clenched tightly in his lap, knuckles white. The fluorescent lights overhead seemed too bright, too harsh, cutting through the shadows of the night and reflecting the anxiety in his own eyes.
It had been minutes or maybe hours. Time didn’t exist here. All that existed was a single, all-consuming thought: Elara.
The doctors had rushed her into emergency surgery immediately after the ambulance arrived. She had lost a lot of blood, and the bullet had penetrated deep, grazing vital organs. She was stable enough to fight, but it was touch-and-go. And the baby… their baby… had to be saved too.
Wayne couldn’t sit still. He rose and paced the room, each step echoing against the tiled floor. He muttered under his breath:
“Stay with me… stay with me, Elara… stay with us…”
The nurses had tried to calm him when he first arrived, offering water, a chair, a blanket. He had waved them off, almost aggressively, unable to focus on anything except the operating room doors.
“Sir, I know this is difficult, but you need to stay calm,” one nurse said gently.
Wayne’s hands trembled, but he didn’t speak. He could barely hear her over the storm of thoughts raging in his mind.
Calvin… you son of a
He had never wanted to use violence against his brother. But now, knowing the depth of his cruelty and seeing Elara like this… rage boiled beneath the surface.
And yet, he couldn’t act. Not now. All he could do was wait.
Wayne’s mind wandered briefly, and for a few heartbeats, he remembered her smile that morning. The way she had laughed, leaning against him in the car while they drove to the airport. Her hand on her stomach, cradling their baby, unaware of what lay ahead.
Why did this happen? he thought bitterly.
He had always protected her. Always tried to shield her from danger. But Calvin had outsmarted him… or at least, he had thought he had.
Wayne rubbed his face with both hands. He couldn’t even imagine the pain she was enduring now—the knife-sharp panic that shot through her body the instant the bullet hit. She had taken the shot for him, literally shielding him. His chest tightened just thinking about it.
She’s so strong… but I’m terrified…
He sank back into his chair, his eyes fixed on the closed doors of the operating room.
Nurses and doctors moved swiftly in and out, checking instruments, updating charts, and speaking in calm, controlled tones. But to Wayne, every sound was amplified every click of a medical tool, every faint voice, every footstep that passed by seemed loaded with tension.
One of the surgeons emerged briefly, approaching him with measured steps. Wayne jumped to his feet instantly.
“Is she?” he started, voice cracking.
The doctor raised a hand.
“Mr. Brooks, please sit. We are doing everything we can. Both mother and baby are stable for now, but it is critical that you remain calm. We need her to focus on staying alive.”
Wayne shook his head violently.
“Stable?” he barked. “She’s in surgery, and you’re telling me she’s stable?”
The doctor’s calm, professional gaze met his.
“It means that while the situation is serious, her body is responding to treatment. That is positive. We are doing everything possible to save both her and the baby.”
Wayne’s jaw clenched. He didn’t feel positive. He felt powerless.
“I can’t… I can’t just sit here!” he whispered, almost to himself.
The doctor nodded sympathetically.
“We understand, but rushing the process or putting yourself under stress won’t help her. She needs you calm and focused for when she wakes. That’s when you can be there for her. And the baby needs your energy too.”
Wayne sank back into the chair again, though his fists remained tight, white-knuckled.
Calvin… you’re going to pay for this… I swear…
As the minutes crawled by, Wayne’s mind refused to rest. He replayed the events at the airport over and over in his head. He remembered the gun, Calvin’s wild eyes, and most vividly, Elara stepping in front of him.
I should have seen it… I should have stopped him sooner… I should have protected her better…
The guilt was suffocating.
And yet, deep down, he knew Elara had always been brave. She had made a split-second decision to save him. A decision that could have cost her life, and the life of their child.
He swallowed hard, gripping the armrest of the chair.
“You’re going to make it, Elara. You have to,” he whispered. “Our baby… you’re both coming out of this. I won’t let anything happen to either of you.”
A tear slipped down his cheek. He didn’t even bother wiping it away.
The minutes stretched into hours. Wayne barely moved. He alternated between pacing and sitting, but his eyes never left the operating room doors.
Outside, the city carried on with its usual night life. Cars passed, streetlights flickered. Somewhere, distant sirens wailed. But inside the hospital waiting room, the world had contracted to a single point: the closed doors behind which his wife lay bleeding.
He replayed every conversation, every laugh, every kiss, every moment they had shared. Every memory of their honeymoon. The walks, the baby shopping, the playful teasing—they all flashed through his mind in rapid succession.
She’s not going to leave me. Not like this… not our baby… not her…
He shook his head to clear it, muttering, “Stay strong… stay strong…”
Wayne had barely noticed when a nurse quietly approached him, her expression serious but calm.
“Mr. Brooks?” she asked gently.
Wayne jumped slightly.
“Yes?”
“She’s still in surgery, but there’s been progress,” the nurse said.
Wayne’s chest tightened, but he didn’t allow himself to hope yet.
“The bleeding is under control. We’ve managed to stabilize her, and the baby is responding well to the treatment. But it’s far from over.”
Wayne’s hands clutched his face.
“Is she… going to make it?”
The nurse gave him a measured look.
“Right now, yes. But we’re still in a critical period. You need to remain calm and prepared for updates.”
Wayne exhaled sharply, a mixture of relief and fear flooding him.
“Thank God…” he muttered under his breath.
Wayne remained by the operating room doors. His knees ached from hours of sitting. His throat was dry. He hadn’t eaten. He hadn’t slept. But he didn’t care.
Every time the doors opened, his heart jumped into his throat. Every step, every hand on a doorknob, every voice that came through the glass seemed like it might bring news good or devastating.
He whispered to himself constantly:
“Elara… hold on. Our baby… I need you both to hold on…”
Time was suspended. The world outside ceased to exist. Only the sound of the heart monitor in his mind’s ear mattered, only the thought of Elara’s soft hands resting on his chest, only the image of the tiny life growing inside her.
Hours passed.
Minutes felt like eternities.
Wayne didn’t move. He didn’t breathe. He barely blinked.
Finally, a doctor appeared at the doors, removing their surgical mask.
“Mr. Brooks?”
Wayne sprang to his feet instantly.
“Is she?” he began, voice cracking.
The doctor raised a hand.
“She’s stable for now,” he said. “The bleeding is controlled. We’ve stabilized her, and the baby is responding well. We’ll need to monitor her closely in the ICU, but both mother and child survived the initial trauma.”
Wayne’s knees nearly gave out. Relief and emotion crashed over him like a tidal wave.
“She’s alive… and the baby…” he whispered, barely able to get the words out.
“Yes,” the doctor confirmed. “Both are alive. But she is going to need you now more than ever.”
Wayne exhaled shakily, tears streaming down his face.
He pressed his hand against the glass of the ICU doors, imagining her behind it, imagining holding her hand, imagining whispering to her that everything would be alright.
“I’m here,” he said softly. “I’m not leaving. Not now. Not ever.”
And he meant it.
No one would ever hurt Elara again if he could stop it.
Not Calvin.
Not anyone.
Wayne Brooks had promised once before, and he would promise it again, over and over, until the world knew: his wife… and his child… were untouchable.