Adrian couldn’t speak. He could only lower his head.
Through the window of the emergency room, he saw Clara lying motionless on a white bed, her head wrapped in gauze, a ventilator humming beside her.
The doctor came out, voice heavy.
“Severe head trauma. Internal bleeding. We’ve done everything we can. Now… it depends on her strength — and a miracle.”
Adrian’s knees buckled.
He remembered the ignored calls. The cold dinner she had prepared. The countless nights he’d claimed to be “working late.”
Each memory stabbed deeper, cutting through the remnants of his pride.
He fell to the floor, sobbing, his voice breaking:
“Clara… I’m sorry… please wake up… please…”
But the room stayed silent.
No one answered.
