Chapter 134
Grace's POV
The villagers began murmuring among themselves, their voices growing more supportive of Violet. "She's such a good person," I heard someone whisper. "Always thinking of others."
Even the little girl seemed to shrink back from me, as if I were some kind of ogre who'd been bullying poor, sweet Violet.
I took a breath, letting the moment settle before I spoke. "I never said anything about blame," I said calmly, my voice cutting through their murmurs. "But I do understand how difficult unrequited feelings can be. I know it must be hard, using work as an excuse to stay close to Alex."
Violet's face went through a rapid succession of colors—pale, then red.
"Even though our marriage is new, the connection between Alex and me isn't something you can judge or... interfere with."
The words landed like stones in still water, sending ripples of shock through the gathered crowd. Violet's mouth opened and closed soundlessly, her composure finally cracking completely.
The villagers' expressions shifted again, this time toward Violet, their faces reflecting surprise and a dawning understanding. The romantic narrative they'd been fed suddenly looked very different in this new light.
"My wife has never needed to concern herself with such trivial gossip."
The voice came from behind me, deep and familiar. My entire body went rigid, my heart stopping for a beat before hammering against my ribs.
I turned slowly, hardly daring to believe what I was seeing.
Alex sat in a wheelchair, wearing a hospital gown with a jacket draped over his shoulders. Lucas was pushing his wheelchair. Alex himself looked terrible—far too gaunt, his skin pale as parchment, his lips nearly colorless.
But he was awake. He was here.
My vision blurred as tears spilled over, hot and unstoppable. I ran toward him, wanting to throw myself into his arms, but the sight of the bandages visible beneath his jacket held me back. What if I hurt him? What if—
Alex solved the dilemma for me, taking my hand and pulling me against his chest . The familiar scent of cedar and rain enveloped me, and for the first time in days, I felt like I could breathe again.
"Foolish woman," he murmured against my hair, his voice rough with exhaustion but warm with affection.
I wrapped my arms carefully around his shoulders, mindful of his injuries, and let myself sob into his shirt. The cotton grew damp beneath my cheek, but I couldn't stop the tears—relief and fear and overwhelming love all pouring out of me at once.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his lips brushing my temple. "I'm sorry for making you worry again."
I pulled back just enough to look at his face, my hands trembling as I reached up to touch his cheek. "Are you in pain? What are you doing out of the hospital? You should be resting—"
"I woke up last night," he said softly, his thumb wiping away my tears. "You were sleeping so deeply, I didn't want to disturb you."
He'd been awake since last night? Those twitching fingers weren't an illusion?
The crowd around us had gone completely silent, watching our reunion with the kind of fascination usually reserved for movies. I could see tears in several of the residents' eyes, their earlier confusion replaced by something softer.
The little girl tugged on her mother's sleeve. "Mama, why is she crying if the hero is okay? Shouldn't she be happy?"
Her mother's voice was gentle when she replied. "Sometimes when you're very happy, sweetheart, you cry because you don't know how else to show how much you care."
I glanced over at Violet, who stood frozen near the reception desk. Her face had gone through shock, brief joy at seeing Alex conscious, and was now settling into something that looked like devastation. She was watching us with the expression of someone witnessing the destruction of every hope she'd been clinging to.
Alex's hand tightened around mine as he addressed the crowd. "Thank you all for your concern," he said, his voice carrying despite its hoarseness. "I'm going to be fine."
The town representative stepped forward, his weathered face creased with relief. "Mr. Morgan, we're so grateful you're all right. When we heard about the accident..."
The little girl's parents approached as well, their faces glowing with gratitude. "Thank you for saving our daughter," the father said, his voice thick with emotion. "We'll never forget what you did."
The little girl herself looked up at both of us with shining eyes. "I hope you'll be happy forever and ever," she said solemnly.
Despite everything—the exhaustion, the fear, the confrontation with Violet—I found myself smiling through my tears. "Thank you, sweetheart. We will be."
The town representative gestured to his companions, who began unloading boxes from their vehicles. "We brought some tokens of our appreciation," he explained. "It's not much, but we wanted to show our gratitude."
Alex's eyes grew bright with emotion as he watched the simple gifts being arranged. These people had so little, yet they were giving what they could out of pure gratitude.
I felt him grip my hand more tightly and glanced down in concern. His face was still pale, and I could see the effort it was taking him to remain conscious. The adrenaline that had gotten him here was clearly wearing off.
"Alex," I whispered, my voice tight with worry. "You need to rest."
But he shook his head slightly, determined to acknowledge every person who'd come to thank him. Even as his weight pressed more insistently against me, he maintained his composure, his gratitude genuine despite his obvious exhaustion.
The gifts continued to pile up—homemade preserves, dried herbs, hand-knitted items that spoke of hours of careful work. Each offering was given with such sincerity that I felt my throat tighten with emotion.
As the last box was placed with the others, I felt Alex's grip on me tighten almost imperceptibly. His breathing had grown slightly labored, and I could sense his strength flagging.