Chapter 907
Chapter 907:
He didn’t need to finish. The silence said the rest.
If William didn’t wake up, he might never come back at all. Not really. A vegetative state. Trapped inside a body that wouldn’t respond.
Alive, but not living.
Stella’s legs buckled. Lance caught her just before she hit the ground.
Then the doors opened again, and the nurses wheeled William past them. He looked nothing like himself. His face was gray, lips pale. Tubes and wires tangled around him, machines beeping in rhythm with a life barely hanging on.
They wheeled him into the ICU, the doors closing behind the bed.
All Stella could do was watch him through the thick glass, heart splintering in her chest. He was right there—but felt impossibly far away.
The next twenty-four hours were a different kind of hell.
Stella didn’t eat. Didn’t sleep. Didn’t speak. She stood at that window like a statue, eyes locked on William, afraid to look away.
Karson tried to convince her to rest, but she wouldn’t move. Eventually, he had a sedative administered just to force her into a few hours of sleep.
Watching her limp body in the nurse’s arms, Karson turned away, his eyes clouded with sorrow.
The night before, they’d handled every last one of the attackers. A few were left breathing, locked up tight in the Carter family’s basement, just waiting to be questioned.
Answers were coming soon—but right now, Karson only cared about Stella’s well-being.
If William didn’t wake up… Karson wasn’t sure Stella would pull through it. She was hanging by a thread.
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Even sedated, Stella couldn’t find peace. She kept tossing and turning in her sleep, whispering William’s name like a prayer, sweat soaking through her sheets. Her brows stayed furrowed, like even her dreams couldn’t let go of the fear.
Every soft beep from William’s monitors made her twitch. Each one felt like a punch to her chest.
Stella didn’t know how long she’d been out before she stirred.
Karson practically begged her to eat something—and she finally gave in—but her eyes never left the ICU room’s glass window.
The most critical twenty-four hours were nearly up.
Every time a nurse or doctor walked by, Stella held her breath. She didn’t exhale until she saw them nod or give a thumbs-up that William was still stable. It was in that endless, nerve-wracking wait that everything clicked into place for her.
All her doubts, the second-guessing—it all seemed ridiculous now. Nothing mattered except the fear of losing William forever.
He’d broken through her walls. Bit by bit, he’d chipped away at her defenses until she realized she didn’t just care—she loved him.
Really loved him.
.
.
.