Once She Came Like a Flash novel Chapter 12

**Faith Didn’t Survive Time – by Aadi Sharma**
**Chapter 12**

The instant Charlie crumpled to the floor, an avalanche of panic erupted within the room. His staff, faces pale with fear, scrambled to summon an ambulance, their voices overlapping in a chaotic symphony of urgency. Among them was Rose, who, upon receiving the call, raced to the hospital, her heart pounding like a drum in her chest.

When she finally arrived, the sight that greeted her was a stark contrast to the man she had always known. Charlie lay there, frail and ghostly against the stark whiteness of the hospital bed, a shadow of the formidable figure he had once been. The man who had commanded boardrooms and silenced critics with a mere glance now appeared as delicate as glass, shattering her perception of his invincibility.

In that moment, the weight of her own turmoil pressed heavily upon her. Her life had spiraled into a relentless nightmare, marred by online slurs and public scorn. She could feel the resentment simmering in her chest, a bitter brew of anger and despair. Yet, deep down, she recognized the grim truth: if Charlie were to falter, her already tarnished reputation would drag her down into an even deeper abyss. With a steely resolve, she forced herself to remain by his side, running errands, signing forms, and hovering over every test and procedure like a guardian angel.

Once Charlie’s condition stabilized, Rose hurried back to her home, her mind racing with thoughts of him. She set about preparing a pot of nourishing soup, hoping to soothe his battered body. She took Edwin with her when she returned to the hospital, the boy’s worried eyes mirroring her own fears.

As she stepped into the hospital room, she found Charlie fully awake, his brow furrowed in concentration as he spoke grimly into the phone. He was already negotiating with partners about severed contracts, his voice a low growl of determination. When Rose entered, he merely flicked a glance in her direction, offering a curt nod that felt like a cold wind slicing through her heart. The fiery warmth he had once radiated toward her was now a mere ember, dulled by exhaustion and perhaps something else—something she dreaded to consider.

A chill of dread skittered down her spine. Was it possible that Charlie was beginning to question her worth? She swallowed hard, pushing the fear down into the pit of her stomach, and steeled herself. “Charlie,” she said softly, guiding Edwin forward. “I made some soup for you. Edwin was worried, so I thought it would be nice for him to see you.”

At the sight of his son, Charlie’s expression softened ever so slightly. He let out a faint hum of acknowledgment, a sound that barely registered in the air between them.

With quick, practiced movements, Rose unpacked the soup, her hands steady despite the anxiety swirling within her. She scooped a spoonful, blowing gently to cool it before bringing it to his lips. Charlie, clearly famished after hours of fasting, accepted the offering without protest. But as the liquid slid down his throat, she noticed his face stiffen, a shadow of discomfort crossing his features. It wasn’t that the soup was inedible, but it lacked the comforting warmth, the nurturing quality that Lola’s cooking had always provided. Her chowder and soups had been a balm for his stomach, easing his pain with every mouthful. This… this was a poor substitute.

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