She should heal in a few days.”
Matthew let out a sigh of relief and said softly, “Thank you.”
After the doctor left, Matthew walked to the ward where Stella was resting.
He opened the door and stood at the threshold, his eyes welling up with tears again.
Stella was lying in the bed, unconscious. Her shoulder and arm were bandaged. Her face was pale and her lips were dry.
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Matthew felt a pang of pain in his heart as he gazed at her.
Most of the time, he observed Stella diligently toiling away. Never before had he witnessed her appear so fragile.
As he stared at her petite form, a sense of heartache washed over him, igniting a fierce desire to shield her from harm.
With determination coursing through him, he clenched his fists and steeled himself.
He resolved to take on the role of a devoted husband, committed to safeguarding her.
Silently, Matthew took up residence next to the bed.
His hand inched upward, yearning to caress Stella’s face, but just as his fingers grazed her skin, he froze.
Desire and fear waged a silent battle within him. He longed to reach out to her, yet the fear of disturbing her slumber held him back.
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After a brief internal struggle, Matthew withdrew his hand and tucked Stella beneath the covers.
As he prepared to retract his hand entirely, it was captured in a soft grasp.
“Don’t leave me…” Stella whispered.
Matthew looked down at her.
She wore a troubled expression, her brow furrowed, clutching his hand uneasily.
He was baffled by the nightmare that had left her so terrified.
“Don’t be afraid. I’m here,” Matthew said softly.
He repeated his comforting words again and again, like a reassuring mantra.
Yet, Stella struggled to sleep well, emitting faint, distressed murmurs.
Matthew leaned in closer, straining to catch her faint cry of “Mom.”
He dared not leave her side so soon. Instead, he located a nearby chair and settled down, silently keeping watch over her.