His Ruthless Redemption (Isabella and Dominic) novel Chapter 235

Chapter 235

Isabella’s POV

By the time the doctors cleared me to leave the hospital, I had discovered something rather cruel about grief

It didn’t care whether your body had healed. It didn’t care whether your test results were normal. It didn’t care whether the doctors smiled reassuringly and told you that physically, everything looked good.

Because grief wasn’t physical.

It lived somewhere much deeper than that, somewhere scans couldn’t see, somewhere blood tests couldn’t measure, somewhere no doctor could stitch back together.

Physically, I felt fine. Or at least as fine as someone could feel after everything that had happened. The cramping had stopped. The dizziness was gone. The doctors seemed satisfied with my recovery.

One of them had even smiled that morning and said, “Your body is healing well.”

I had smiled politely.

Then gone back to staring out the window.

Because my body healing felt irrelevant when everything else was still shattered. The only thing standing between me and discharge was the grief counselor the doctors had insisted I see.

Apparently everyone was worried about me. The doctors, Dominic, Caterina and even Luca.

I couldn’t entirely blame them. I’d spent most of the last two days either crying or staring blankly at walls which was not exactly reassuring behavior.

The thing was, I knew they were right. I needed help. And I was going to get it, too. But honestly, pretty much the only reason I was agreeing to it was Mateo.

Because Mateo deserved a mother who was present. A mother who got out of bed. A mother who didn’t spend every day drowning in grief.

I still had him, my beautiful boy, my reason for continuing forward.

I couldn’t let him lose me too. Which was why I found myself standing outside a door marked:

Dr. Elena Soren, Grief and Trauma Counseling.

I took a slow breath. Then knocked.

A warm voice answered immadintalu “Come in

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The office surprised me t unlike the rest of the hospital.

ts or cold white walls

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Chapter 235

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Instead, soft sunlight filtered through large windows, plants occupied the corners and bookshelves lined one wall.

Everything felt calm, intentional.

The woman who stood to greet me looked younger than I expected, maybe in her early forties. She was beautiful in a quiet, effortless way with dark hair and warm brown eyes, the kind of face that immediately made people feel comfortable. Or at least that was probably the intention.

But at the moment, I wasn’t sure anyone could make me feel comfortable.

She smiled gently. “Isabella?”

I nodded.

“Please, come in.” Her voice was soothing without sounding fake, which I appreciated. “I’m Elena.”

I took the chair opposite hers, immediately feeling awkward and self–conscious, like I was supposed to know how therapy worked and somehow didn’t.

Thankfully, she seemed to notice.

“The good news is,” she said with a small smile, “there’s no right way to do this.”

I blinked. “What?”

“The look on your face.” Her smile widened slightly. “You look like someone who’s worried she’s about to fail therapy.”

To my horror, a tiny laugh escaped me, a real one.

Elena looked pleased with my reaction. “See? You’re already doing fine.”

I shook my head. “I’m not fine.”

“No.” Her voice softened. “I don’t imagine you are.”

The kindness in those words almost made me cry, almost.

Elena leaned back slightly. “For today, why don’t we start simple?”

I nodded reluctantly.

“How are you feeling?”

The question immediately annoyed me, not because she’d done anything wrong but because I didn’t know how to answer it.

How was I feeling?

Destroyed. Angry. Heartbroken. Numb. Guilty. Exhausted. Lonely. Terrified.

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All at once.

“I don’t know,” I finally whispered.

To my surprise, she nodded. “That’s a very common answer.”

I looked down at my hands. “I feel everything,” I confessed, my voice cracking. “And nothing.”

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Elena didn’t interrupt, didn’t rush to fill the silence. She just listened, allowing me to speak, to let it all out.

“I keep thinking I’m okay.” A bitter laugh escaped me. “Then suddenly I’m crying in a hospital bathroom because I remembered something stupid.”

“Like what?”

I swallowed hard. “Baby names.” The words nearly broke me. “We never picked one. I wasn’t even far enough along to know if it was a boy or a girl.”

My throat tightened.

“But now I keep thinking about names. Which doesn’t even make sense.”

“It makes perfect sense.”

I looked up.

Elena’s expression remained calm, gentle. “You’re grieving a future.”

I nodded slowly.

Yes, that was exactly what it felt like. I hadn’t just lost a baby but also everything that baby represented. The birthdays we were supposed to celebrate together. The holidays. The first steps. The family we’d imagined.

All of it was just gone.

Fresh tears filled my eyes.

Elena waited, giving me space.

Eventually she asked quietly, “What hurts the most?”

The answer came immediately and was out of my mouth before I could stop it. “The guilt.”

Because I’d finally said the thing I’d been avoiding all along, the thing I hadn’t said out loud. Not to Dominic. Not to Caterina. Not to anyone.

The thing I was most ashamed of.

“I feel guilty.”

The moment the words left my mouth, I broke down completely. The tears came instantly, violently,

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Chapter 235

uncontrollably.

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“Oh God.” I covered my face, humiliation washing over me. I simply couldn’t stop the dam that had just burst. “I feel so guilty,” I practically wailed.

The confession seemed to have unlocked something in me and everything came pouring out.

“I was supposed to protect my baby. I was supposed to keep them safe.” Tears streamed down my face. “There were warning signs,” my voice cracked.

“I should have left sooner.” Another sob escaped me as I shook my head. “I should have taken Mateo and gone somewhere safe. should have done something.”

The words echoed through the room, raw and ugly and painful.

“I failed,” I admitted through the sobs I could barely control. “I failed as a mother.”

Silence followed my words, only broken by my sobs. Thankfully, Elena didn’t say anything. Didn’t force me to stop crying. She let me unload my sorrows, only handing me a tissue box once my sobs had died down to the occasional sniffle.

Then Elena spoke, her voice much too gentle. “Isabella.”

I couldn’t look at her.

“I want you to imagine something.”

I wiped my eyes and cleaned my nose, trying to calm down.

“If your closest friend came to you tomorrow. And told you everything you just told me.”

I frowned, confused as to where this was headed.

“What would you say to her?”

The answer came instantly. “That it wasn’t her fault.”

“Why?”

“Because she couldn’t have known.” My voice softened. “She did the best she could.”

Elena nodded. “Exactly.”

I froze, slowly realizing what she was doing. “No.” A watery laugh escaped me. “It’s different.”

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