Elizabeth sat in a corner of the private hospital room, a pensive expression on her face as she stared at nowhere in particular. She clutched a damp silk handkerchief, its edges soaked with tears. Benjamin had left for the headquarters to manage the headlines swirling around Louis' accident and to temporarily step in as CEO. Yerenika, who had stayed up all night, had been sent home by Elizabeth to get some rest. That left her alone in the room with Louis, who lay unconscious, a web of tubes connected to his body and monitors displaying his vitals, providing some reassurance to the anxious mother that her son was still alive.
A slight fluctuation on one of the monitors caught her attention just as Louis' eyes fluttered open. The moment he gained consciousness, a wave of pain coursed through his body. He had expected the accident to be bad, but this level of pain was beyond anything he'd imagined. Blurry snippets of what had happened came to him: Elias' worried face, fleeting and unclear. The rest was all just a blurry haze. All he could focus on was the sharp, searing pain in his chest. Breathing felt like a difficult task in itself.
Elizabeth immediately stood up, rushing to his side. Hovering near the bed, her expression was a mix of relief and worry as she said, "You're finally awake…" She placed a trembling hand gently on his head. "We were so worried. They said you'd be okay, but it's never easy to stay calm in situations like this. Your father and Yerenika were here, but with the news— your father had to go to headquarters to handle the press surrounding the accident." Her voice faltered as she trailed off.
Noticing his questioning look, she gave a sad smile, seemingly sensing his unspoken concern. "I know what you're thinking. Your…uh, friend is alright. He had a twisted ankle and some cuts on his hands and wrist from trying to saw through the seatbelt and give you first aid before help arrived."
A shaky sigh of relief escaped Louis' lips as her words sank in. He forced a small smile, trying to reassure her despite the guilt gnawing at him. His mind was in turmoil, his thoughts circling back to Elias. He felt the weight of his plan sink in- the one he had orchestrated to make Elias care for him, to force some kind of connection. But seeing his mother so distraught filled him with a different kind of regret.
"I'm fine, Mother, really. Just a few scratches and bruises. Nothing serious," he said, even as the pain in his lungs made speaking feel like an impossible struggle. He hesitated, his voice softening, "And Elias…he's okay, right? That's what matters. He'll be alright. He has to be alright."
The last sentence was spoken so quietly it was almost a whisper, as if he were trying to convince himself more than anyone else.
Elizabeth frowned, her concern only deepening at his words. "Your lung was punctured, Louis. It was, quite literally, very serious. You could've died…you almost did," she murmured, her voice trembling as her composure cracked. "It's a miracle you both survived without any major complications. But you can't just…downplay it like this. It's not a minor thing, son." Her hands clutched the handkerchief tighter as tears welled in her eyes. "It was one of the scariest moments of my life. Of your father and sister's lives. I just…" She hesitated, her voice breaking. "I just need to ask you one thing, Louis. Please answer truthfully, for your poor mother."
Louis stiffened at her tone. He didn't need to hear the question to know what was coming.
"Was it…on purpose?" she asked finally, her voice barely above a whisper, the words trembling with dread.
The question hit him like a blow. He flinched inwardly, his guilt rising to the surface. He hadn't meant to hurt her like this. He just... Wanted Elias to stay with him. Was that so bad? To want to keep the one person you care about most close to yourself?
He opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat. Yes, it was premeditated. But how could he say that to her? How could he admit it out loud?
His silence was all the answer Elizabeth needed. The room fell into a heavy stillness, their gazes locked in an unspoken exchange of pain and understanding. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she dabbed at them with the damp handkerchief, her voice gone.
The quiet was broken by the sound of approaching footsteps in the hallway, followed by the soft click of the door opening. Both their heads snapped toward the door, their shared silence broken.