Chapter 116 Chapter 116
Chapter 116
The hospital doors slid open before the SUV even came to a complete stop.
Ethan sat frozen in the back seat, one arm wrapped tight around her like he could hold everything together if he just didn’t let go. The security had been driving like the devil was chasing them the whole way, tires screeching as they swung into the emergency bay.
The engine was still rumbling when the doors flew open and the world exploded into motion.
Nurses came running out fast, shoes slapping against the pavement, voices barking orders that cut through the evening air. Two of them already had the stretcher rolling right up to the open door before Ethan could even blink.
His heart was pounding so hard he could feel it in his teeth. Everything was happening in a blur hands reaching in, people talking over each other but it still felt like it was taking forever. Every single second dragged like it was trying to kill him.
They recognized him almost immediately.
“Mr. Castellan,” one of them said, but he didn’t respond. He couldn’t.
His attention was fixed on one thing.
Celine.
They pulled her out carefully, placing her onto the stretcher. Her head tilted slightly to the side, her face pale, too still for his liking. A faint trace of blood marked the side of her forehead, and that alone made something inside him tighten painfully.
Another stretcher was brought out for the driver.
Both of them unconscious.
Ethan walked alongside them as they were wheeled into the hospital, his steps quick, uneven, like his body couldn’t decide whether to run or stay controlled. His eyes never left her, searching for the smallest sign that she was okay.
The evening air clung to his skin as they pushed through the sliding doors, and the bright lights inside hit him all at once, making everything feel too sharp and too loud. He kept pace right beside her, one hand hovering near the edge of the stretcher because he couldn’t bring himself to pull it away completely. Every bump of the wheels on the floor sent a fresh jolt through him.
Ethan’s shirt stuck to him where her blood had soaked through, warm at first and now cooling in an uncomfortable way that made his skin crawl. He wanted to say something to her, anything, just to hear his own voice cut through the noise, but the words kept getting stuck. Instead he leaned in a little closer whenever the nurses paused, trying to catch if her breathing had changed or if her eyelids fluttered even a fraction.
“She hit her head?” he asked, his voice low but urgent.
“Yes, sir,” a nurse replied while checking Celine’s pulse. “But she’s breathing steadily.”
That wasn’t enough.
They pushed through the emergency doors, the sound of the wheels against the floor echoing louder than anything else. Ethan stayed close, close enough to reach her if he needed to, close enough to feel like he was still in control of something.
But he wasn’t.
A doctor joined them halfway, already putting on gloves, his expression serious but calm.
“What happened?” he asked.
“Minor collision,” the security officer explained quickly. “She lost consciousness immediately after impact.”
The doctor nodded once and turned his attention to Celine, checking her response, speaking to the nurses in quick, practiced instructions.
“Prep her for ICU. We need to monitor her closely.”
ICU.
The word landed harder than expected.
Ethan’s steps slowed slightly, but he didn’t stop following.
“Doctor,” he said, his voice sharper now. “Is she okay?”
The doctor glanced at him briefly. “We can’t confirm anything yet. Head injuries need observation. You brought her in on time, that’s important.”
On time.
That was supposed to mean something reassuring.
It didn’t.
They reached the ICU doors, and everything came to an abrupt halt.
“Sir, you’ll have to wait here,” the doctor said firmly, blocking his path.
Ethan didn’t move.
“I’m going in,” he said.
“I’m afraid you can’t,” the doctor replied, not unkindly but without leaving room for argument. “We need space to work. We’ll update you as soon as we know more.”
Ethan’s eyes shifted past him, back to Celine as they pushed her through the doors. For a second, he considered ignoring the instruction completely. Walking in anyway. Standing there until someone forced him out.
But he didn’t.
He stopped.
And watched as the doors closed.
Just like that.
She was gone from his sight.
The hallway felt too open all of a sudden.
Too quiet.
Ethan stepped back slowly, running a hand through his hair as he tried to steady his breathing. He wasn’t someone who panicked easily. He didn’t lose control. He handled situations. Solved problems. Stayed ahead.
But this…
This wasn’t something he could control.
He leaned against the wall, staring at the closed ICU doors like they might open if he looked long enough. His mind kept replaying the same image her lying there, still, unresponsive, her name being called with no answer.
He clenched his jaw.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
He had thought distance would protect her. Thought stepping back would keep her out of reach. Thought he could manage everything from afar without dragging her into the mess surrounding him.
But she was already in it.
And now she was lying behind those doors, unconscious, because he had underestimated how far things could go.
His phone buzzed somewhere near his feet.
He hadn’t even realized he dropped it earlier.
For a moment, he didn’t pick it up. He just stood there, staring ahead, his thoughts loud in a way he wasn’t used to. Not scattered. Not confused. Just one clear realization pushing through everything else.
He should have acted sooner.
He bent down finally, picking up the phone, his grip tightening around it. The screen was still on, the last call visible. The words replayed in his head again.
There’s been an accident.
She collapsed.
Ethan closed his eyes briefly, exhaling slowly through his nose as he tried to calm the tension building inside him.
This wasn’t over.
He straightened, his posture shifting back into something controlled, something steady. Not because he felt it, but because he needed it.
Because whatever happened next, he had to be ready for it.
His gaze returned to the ICU doors.
Waiting wasn’t something he was used to.
But this time, he had no choice.