The Love From Vengeance (Ariel and Luke) novel Chapter 341

341: HOLDING ON 

ARIEL’S POV 

Janice furrowed her brows, concern etched across her features. “Mom, you shouldn’t be pushing yourself like this. You’re hurt.” 

“I know, sweetheart,” I sighed, wincing as I adjusted myself on the bed. “But I had to make sure your dad 

was okay.” 

“But the doctors are taking care of him, right?” 

“Yes, they are.” I nodded, reaching out to gently stroke her hair. “But I just needed to see him for myself, you know?” 

Janice nodded, her eyes filled with understanding. “I get it, Mom. But please, promise me you’ll take it easy. You need to focus on getting better too.” 

“I promise,” I replied, offering her a weak smile. “Now, how about we both try to get some rest? We could 

use it.” 

Janice nodded, leaning against my shoulder. “Yeah, that sounds good.” 

As we settled into the quiet room, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude wash over me. Together, we would confront numerous challenges, yet our unwavering unity would be the only thing that mattered. 

L 

Storms could come and chaos might unfold, but with my blood by my side, those terrors would be so 

bootless, 

And as I closed my eyes, I had to think of the things ahead and how everything was going to work out. Luke being there to hold me tight, and Janice supporting the both of us. With smiles all around our faces, 

we would savor each moment. 

ONE MONTH LATER 

The hospital corridors seemed endless, each step echoing the cacophony of emotions raging within me. 

My heart was heavy with a burden I could barely carry. The sterile smell permeated the air, a constant reminder of the stark reality that awaited me behind those white doors. My beloved lay there, fragile and 

broken, hooked up to machines that whispered tales of his suffering 

The sight of him lying there, so still and pale, was a dagger to my soul. His once vibrant eyes dulled, mirroring the agony I felt within. I reached out to hold his hand, the touch so familiar yet foreign, as if he were slipping away with each passing moment. The beeping of the machines was a cruel symphony, and the rhythm of his heartbeat was a haunting melody that played on repeat in my mind. 

The days had transitioned into nights, which in turn led to endless hours of waiting and hopelessness The doctors came and went, their faces a mask of professionalism that did little to assuage my growing terror. Words like “critical–condition” and “uncertain prognosis hung in the air like a curse, a constant reminder of the fragility of life and the powerlessness of my love to shield him. 

I watched as he struggled, his spirit unbowed despite the ravages of pain and illness. His resilience was a beacon in the darkness a flicker of light that guided me through the long and torturous nights: 1 whispered words of encouragement and promises of better days to come, knowing deep down that I was grasping at straws, trying to hold onto a reality that was slipping away with each passing moment 

The agony of watching someone you love suffer is like no other. It seeps into your bones, twists your insides, and leaves you gasping for breath in a world that suddenly seems devoid of color and joy. The quiet hum of machines replaced the laughter that once filled our home, and whispered prayers escaped my lips like a plea to the heavens, 

I found solace in the memories we shared and in the love that bound us together through the trials and tribulations of life. I clung to those moments like a drowning soul to a life raft, holding onto the hope that They would be sufficient to rescue her from the abyss. But deep down, I knew that love alone was not always a match for the cruel hand fate had dealt us. 

The nights were the hardest, long and lonely stretches of darkness that seemed to stretch into eternity. I 

would sit by his bedside, holding his hand and watching the rise and fall of his chest, willing him to hold 

on and fight just a little longer. The tears that fell were a silent testament to the pain that gnawed at my 

heart–a pain so raw and consuming that at times I felt it would swallow me whole. 

In those quiet moments, when the rest of the world slept and the only sound was the steady beep of the machines, I would whisper words of love and devotion, promises of a future we might never share 1 would tell him of the dreams we had woven together and the plans we had made, hoping that somewhere in the recesses of his unconscious mind, he would hear me and find the strength to hold on 

The road to recovery was long and arduous, filled with setbacks and small victories that seemed like miracles in the making I knew for a fact that we would go through it all, clinging to each other–two souls bound by a love that had weathered the storm and emerged stronger on the other side. The pain of these days and nights lingered like a scar, a reminder of the fragility of life and the resilience of the human spirit. 

It was s not just his battle to fight, but also ours. The pain of watching him suffer had forged a bond 

between us that was unbreakable, a bond that would carry us through the darkest of times and the 

brightest of days 

I had the feeling, being optimistic, that any day soon we would walk hand in hand into the light of a new 

dawn, I knew that our love was a force to be reckoned with, a beacon of hope in a world filled with 

uncertainty and pain 

And I sat here, still watching Luke. It had been a month now, and he was still in this condition. As for me, I