His Knees, His Pleas, But Our Son's in Peace novel Chapter 27

Chapter 27
The sound of the door opening pulled me
from my reverie. I glanced up as Issca
stepped into the room, a tray in his hands.
The scent of something savory wafted
toward me, and I realized I hadn’t eaten
all day. Issca had been hovering around
me ever since Oliver passed, trying to take
care of me as if he could somehow fill the
void that was left.
“Doris, you shouldn’t be watching this
trash,” Issca said, his voice gentle but firm
as he placed the tray on the coffee table.
He was always like this-caring,
protective, but I couldn’t bring myself to accept his help completely. Not when the pain was still so raw, so consuming.
“I’m fine,” I replied, forcing a small smile
that didn’t reach my eyes. “You don’t have
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to worry about me.”
Issca sighed, his eyes full of concern. “You
need to eat something. You’ve been in and
out of the hospital so much lately… I made
your favorite soup.”
I nodded, but my mind was far away. I
couldn’t shake the memories of those
endless hospital visits with Oliver-the } sterile smell of antiseptics, the beeping
machines, the doctors’ grim expressions.
We had fought so hard, clung to every
-shred of hope, but it hadn’t been enough.
And now, all I had left were memories.
“I know you’re trying to help,” I said
quietly, picking up the spoon. “But I need to do this on my own. I need to be strong.”
Issca knelt down beside me, his hand
resting gently on my shoulder. “You don’t
have to do it alone, Doris. You have people
who care about you. Let us help.”
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I met his gaze, and for a moment, I almost
believed that I could lean on him, that I
could let someone in. But then the pain
would come crashing back, reminding me
that no one could truly understand the
depth of my loss.
“I appreciate it, Issca,” I said, my voice soft
but resolute. “But I need to focus on
getting better my way.”
Issca’s shoulders slumped slightly, but he
nodded in understanding. “I’ll be around if
you need anything.”
With that, he left the room, leaving me
alone with my thoughts once more. I
stared at the tray of food, the smell of the
soup filling the air, but my appetite had
vanished. I placed the tray aside and
stood, needing to escape the confines of
the house.
The hospital had discharged me earlier
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that day, deeming me well enough to go home, but the walls of this place felt like they were closing in. I needed to breathe, to feel something other than the suffocating grief.
The garden outside was overgrown, weeds sprouting up between the flowerbeds where my mother’s roses used to bloom.
This house had been hers, left to me when
she passed, and now it was all I had left of
my family. I bent down and began pulling
at the weeds, my hands moving
mechanically as I tried to lose myself in
the task.
★But no matter how many flowers I planted
or how many weeds I pulled, I couldn’t shake the memories. The hospital room
where I had spent so many hours by
Oliver’s side, the nights I had sat awake,
praying for a miracle.
Doris, you’re spiraling. My wolf’s voice
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was calm, but I could sense the concern
beneath it. You need to rest. Take care of
yourself, as Oliver would want you to.
“I’m trying,” I whispered, tears finally slipping down my cheeks. “But it’s so hard
without him.”
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting
the garden in shadows. I stood, brushing
dirt from my hands, and made my way
back inside. I passed by the living room,
where Oliver’s toys were neatly arranged
on the shelves, each one holding a
memory. I had put them there as soon as I
returned from the hospital, unable to pack
them away just yet.
The house was quiet, too quiet, and as
night fell, the silence became unbearable. I found myself pacing the halls, my mind racing with thoughts I couldn’t escape. The pain, the loss, it was all too much. I needed to do something, anything, to distract
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myself.
I went to my computer, sitting down with a heavy sigh as I began searching for
information on the medical organization
that had been working on the drug. If only
they had worked faster, if only they had
found a cure in time. I could feel my wolf
urging me to stop, to calm down, but I couldn’t. I needed answers, even if they
wouldn’t bring Oliver back.
As I clicked through page after page,
–something caught my eye. A news article,
its headline blaring in bold letters: “Doris:
The Woman Behind the Scandal.”