Chapter 25

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Patrick P.O.V.

Pete departed with Declan after he said, and I quote, "go get her".

I went back into the waiting room and saw someone had taken the seat I was in. I sighed and slid to the floor. I leaned my head against the wall. My head was starting to ache. All of Declan's screaming had given me a migraine.

I let a tear slip from my eye. I'd been trying to keep it together for Declan, but now he was gone. It was just me.

Or so I thought. I heard a click and saw a flash. I snapped my eyes open and saw a woman with a phone pointed in my direction. I would have said something to her, but I didn't. I had too much pain going on in my life to yell at a woman for taking a picture.

I sighed and stood up. I made my way to the men's bathroom and pulled it open. Luckily, it was empty. I went to the sink and splashed some water on my face.

I looked at myself in the mirror and almost didn't recognize myself. My hair was sticking up everywhere, my eyes and nose were red, my clothes were wrinkled and everywhere. I even saw a scratch on my cheek from where Declan scratched me while he was screaming.

I slammed my fist against the wet counter and heard a little whimper. I turned around and saw a little boy, no older than seven, standing at a stall.

His eyes were wide, he was scared. Oh god, I scared a little boy.

"Oh man, sorry, kid," I sputtered before making my way to the door.

Before I pushed the door open, the boy said, "Sir, it's really okay."

I turned around and his scared face had morphed into forgiving. He continued. "My daddy keeps saying that getting angry is okay. He says Mommy will get better soon. He says sometimes when people we love are sick, we lose our emotions."

I stared at the little boy. He was right.

I nodded, unsure how to respond, and pushed the door open. I was walking back into the waiting room when I heard someone say, "Elisa Yao-Stump."

My head shot up and I saw a woman in a white coat holding a clipboard. I rushed over to her and said, "Is she okay?"

The woman nodded. "Yes, we're pretty sure we know what's wrong. We're finishing up a test that should confirm our suspicions."

"Will she live?" I asked, very afraid of the answer.

"If our diagnosis is correct, then yes. We can get her on the meds right away."

I let out a sigh of relief. "Can I see her?"

"Sure, right this way. She's asleep, but should wake up soon. We gave her a sedative to help with the pain," she said, leading me into the door.

I followed her around a few corridors until we arrived at a wooden door marked 111. She gestured for me to enter and I tentatively turned the nob and pushed the door open.

Her brunette curly hair that I love so much was spread out around her like a halo. She looked so peaceful, I almost didn't want her to wake up to a world that would probably hurt her even more.

She was wearing a blue paper gown and an IV was attached to her wrist.

I sat in a chair next to her bed and grabbed her hand. I brought the limp limb up to my lips and kissed it. Her knuckles grazed my chin as a tear found its way down my cheek.

I stayed like that for about an hour, my eyes glued to her unmoving body. Her eyelids flickered every now and then, but for the most part, she was still as a statue.

A voice cut through our beautiful silence like a razor. "Mr. Stump?"

I tore my eyes away from Elisa and the doctor from earlier was standing at the door. I wiped my eye while saying, "So, what is it?"

She closed the door behind her before saying. "It's something called stress-induced cardiomyopathy. It's common for women. Basically, when something traumatic happens, it could be the death of a loved one, even a breakup. The body releases sudden, intense stress hormones, which can cause chest pain. It's treatable, and she should be completely healed within weeks. It's commonly known as broken heart syndrome."

I thought for a minute. I had caused this. It was my  fault Elisa was in a hospital bed right now. If I had taken her back right away, this wouldn't have happened. Elisa was in pain because of me.

"God, yeah, start her treatment. Get her better," I said, painting a smile on my face.

The doctor nodded and left the room, leaving me alone with Elisa and my thoughts. I did nothing but stare at the ground.

She came back a moment later with a bag of clear liquid. She hooked it up to the IV and soon it was pumping through Elisa's veins.

I guess all I could do now was wait. Wait for her to wake up. Wait for her to find out that I did this to her.


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