I felt the air in the room shift, thickening with unspoken tension. My heart clenched, the dread spreading like ice through my
veins.
“What is it?” I managed to ask, my voice barely audible.
The doctor hesitated, as though carefully choosing his words. “Liam’s cognitive development has been affected by his prolonged illness and coma,” he explained. “Although he’s five years old physically, his mental and emotional development remains at the level of a two–year–old. Around the time he went into coma.”
The words hit me like a physical blow. My chest tightened, and tears burned at the corners of my eyes. I turned to Alex instinctively, seeking… something. Anything.
To my surprise, he was already looking at me, his expression steady yet strained. Without a word, he reached for my hand, his fingers curling around mine in a gesture so’firm yet gentle it left me momentarily stunned.
I didn’t pull away. For once, I let him stay.
“What does this mean for him?” Alex asked, his voice calm but laced with tension.
The doctor sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly. “It means that while Liam’s body has grown with his age, his mind essentially paused during those years. Therapy will help him regain some ground, but it’s going to take time and consistent support. He’ll need patience, encouragement, and a structured environment to help him catch up to his peers.”
I nodded numbly, my throat too tight to speak.
“I’ll make sure he gets everything he needs,” Alex said, his voice carrying a quiet determination that surprised me.
I couldn’t stay in that room. The weight of the doctor’s words was too much, pressing down on me like an unbearable burden. I excused myself quickly, fleeing into the hallway in search of air that didn’t feel so stifling.
The moment I stepped out of the room, the dam inside me broke. leaned against the cold, sterile wall, covering my face with my hands as sobs wracked my body.
My baby boy. My sweet, innocent boy. How much more did he have to endure? How much more could he take before it became too much?
All of it–the pain, the fear, the endless uncertainty–it was all because of her.
Eliza.
Her name burned in my mind like a brand, fueling the anger that rose within me like a tidal wave. She had dois. She had stolen years from Liam, robbed him of his childhood, and left us all to pick up the shattered pieces of our lives.
I clenched my fists, the sharp bite of my nails digging into my palms grounding me in my rage. I would make her pay. For Liam. For me. For everything.
A touch on my shoulder startled me, and for a brief, panicked moment, fear shot through me. But then I heard Alex’s voice.
“Raina,” he said softly. “It’s just me.”
I turned to face him, wiping hastily at my tear–streaked cheeks. The concern in his eyes was genuine, but it only irritated me. I didn’t want his pity.
“Send me the reservation details,” I snapped, my voice shaky but resolute.
He blinked, clearly surprised, but nodded without question. “I will,” he said simply.
Without waiting for a response, I walked away, my thoughts a tangled mess of anger, pain, and determination.
Alex may have saved my life, but that didn’t mean he could fix it. That was my job, and I wasn’t about to let anyone–or anything -stand in my way.
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