Heartprints in the Void
⊰ 13 ⊱ Confronting Guilt

The harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital room bore into my eyes, amplifying the throbbing in my head. The antiseptic smell burns my nostrils, a sickening reminder of where I am and why. My body aches, each movement sending sharp pains through my bruised ribs, but it's nothing compared to the agony in my heart as I wait for news about Naomi.

The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor feels like it's drilling into my skull, matching the frantic pace of my own heartbeat. Cade sits beside me, his hand clasped tightly in mine, his thumb tracing soothing circles on my skin. But even his touch can't calm the storm raging inside me.

"What if she doesn't make it?" The words escape me in a choked whisper, giving voice to the fear that's been gnawing at my insides. "Cade, what if our baby doesn't-"

"Don't," Cade cuts me off, his voice rough but steady. "She's going to be fine. She has to be."

But I can't stop myself from spiraling with dark thoughts. Images of Naomi, broken and bleeding, flash through my mind. The sound of screeching tires and shattering glass echoes in my ears.

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block it out, but it only seems to make the memories more vivid.

*It's all my fault...*

A sob breaks from my lips, the guilt crushing me. But Cade refuses to let me sink, his arms wrapping around me, careful of my injuries. "We're going to be okay," he murmurs, and for a moment, I almost believe that he believes it. But I know. I know the truth.

This will break us if we lose our daughter. It will break me.

It's as if there's this hole in my chest, and the memory of her, any thoughts of her, makes it ache a pain I've never experienced before. It's like I can't breathe, and even as Cade murmurs sweet nothings into my ear, nothing seems to penetrate through the haze of self-blame.

Still, I cling to him like a lifeline, my tears soaking his shirt as we wait in this limbo of uncertainty.

The minutes stretch for hours, each beep of the vital signs monitor more deafening than the last. Nurses come and go, adjusting my IV, checking my vitals, but none bring the news we're desperately waiting for.

*God, please... Please don't take her from me.*

Just as I feel like I'm about to shatter from the heaviness looming over us, a soft knock on the door breaks the silence. Cade and I look up to see a middle aged man with black hair and thick rimmed glasses wearing a white coat entering, his face unreadable. My heart leaps into my throat, and I feel Cade's hand tighten around me.

"Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair?" the doctor says, his voice calm and warmly professional. "I'm Dr. Patel. I've been overseeing your daughter's surgery."

"How is she?" I blurt out, my voice cracking. "Is Naomi okay?"

*Please... Please, please, please...*

Dr. Patel's face softens, and I see a hint of a smile. "Your daughter is going to be fine."

The relief that washes over me is so intense it's almost painful. A sob escapes me, half-laugh, half-cry. I hear Cade let out a shaky breath beside me, his grip on my hand loosening slightly.

"We were able to get control of the internal bleeding," Dr. Patel continues, his words blurring slightly as happy tears fill my eyes. "She's going to be sore for a while, and you'll need to be careful with her, but she should recover just fine." "Can we see her?" I ask, practically blurting, my voice trembling.

Dr. Patel nods, his kind eyes crinkling at the corners. "She's in recovery now. We'll move her to a room soon, then you can visit her. Just remember, she's been through a lot. She needs rest. I recommend we keep her in a medically induced coma for the next couple of days."

"Of course," Cade says, his voice wavering. I can see the tears burning his eyes, but he blinks them back quickly as he reaches over the bed and offers Dr. Patel a handshake. "Thank you, Doctor. Thank you so much."

As Dr. Patel leaves, I turn to Cade at my side, burying my face in his chest as tears flow freely. He holds me tightly, and I can feel him shaking slightly. He's been so strong through this all, I don't know how he does it. I don't know what I'd do without him.

"She's okay," he murmurs into my hair, his breath warm against my scalp. "We're okay."

We stay like this for a while, holding each other, letting the relief wash over us. The incessant beeping of the machines fades into the background as I focus on the steady rhythm of Cade's heartbeat against my ear.

Another knock on the door makes us pull apart. I wipe at my eyes, wincing as my hand brushes against a bruise on my cheek. Expecting to see a nurse, I'm surprised to see Ava standing hesitantly in the doorway, her face pale with worry. "I... I heard about the accident on the news," she says softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I wanted to see if you were okay."

I feel Cade tense beside me, his jaw clenching. But when I look at him, I see a flicker of understanding in his eyes.

"I'll go see if they'll let me see Naomi," he says, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. He leans down to press a kiss to my forehead, his lips warm against my skin. "I'll be back soon."

As Cade takes his leave, the soft squeak of his shoes on the linoleum floor echoing in the quiet room, Ava steps further inside. The scent of her familiar perfume wafts over me, bringing with it a flood of memories.

"Elys, I'm so sorry," Ava says, her eyes wide and full of sympathy. "How are you? How's Naomi?"

"We're... we're okay," I say, still hardly believing it myself. "Naomi's out of surgery. The doctor says she's going to be fine."

Ava's shoulders sag with relief, and she takes a tentative step closer. "Thank God," she whispers. "And you? Are you hurt?"

I shake my head, immediately regretting the movement as a wave of dizziness washes over me. "Just some cuts and bruises. A mild concussion. I got lucky." My voice breaks at the last word, the guilt surging up again.

Ava must see it in my face because she's suddenly by my side, her hand reaching for mine. The warmth of her touch is comforting, despite everything that's happened between us.

"This wasn't your fault, Elys," she says softly. "It was an accident."

I want to believe her, but the words stick in my throat. Instead, I replace myself saying, "I'm glad you're here."

And I am, I realize with surprise. Despite everything that's happened between us, having Ava here feels... right. Comforting, in a way I didn't expect.

"Of course I'm here," she says, squeezing my hand. "Where else would I be?"

We sit in silence for a moment, the only sounds the steady beep of the heart monitor and the muffled noises of the hospital beyond our room. I'm struck by how familiar this feels. How many times has Ava been by my side in moments of crisis? How many times has she been my rock when I felt like I was drowning?

*Maybe I should give her another chance.*

"I've been thinking," I say slowly, my voice hoarse from crying, "about what you told me. About David and the threats he made."

Ava stiffens slightly, but doesn't let go of my hand. "Elys, you don't have to "

"No, let me finish," I interrupt gently. "I think... I think I understand a little better now. Why you did what you did."

And I do. After seeing David again, even if it was just to check up on me and Naomi, I was reminded of how terrifying he can be. His presence alone seems to suck the air out of a room, making it hard to breathe. The memory of his cold, calculating eyes sends a shiver down my spine.

And seeing the look on Cade's face when he walked back in the room after stepping out with him, though he didn't tell me what they talked about, it makes me wonder if I can blame anyone for giving in to his demands. There was a hardness in Cade's eyes I've rarely seen, a tension in his jaw.

*The lengths he's willing to go to maintain control... I can imagine the fear she must have felt.*

"It doesn't make it okay," I continue, meeting her eyes. "What you did... it hurt me, Ava. Deeply. But I think I get it now. And I... I miss my best friend."

Tears well up in Ava's eyes, catching the harsh fluorescent light. "I miss you too,” she whispers. "God, Elys, I'm so sorry. For everything. If I could go back and do it differently—"

"We can't go back," I cut her off gently. "But I think we should move forward. And I think... I think I'd like to try. To be friends again."

I see the hope in her eyes and before it can overcome her, I hold up a hand to stop her. "It won't be easy," I warn. "I'll have to learn to trust you again. But if you're willing to try..."

"I am," she says immediately. "I'll do whatever it takes. I promise."

I nod, a small smile tug at my lips despite the ache in my bruised face. We talk for a while longer, catching up on the little things we've missed in each other's lives. It's not quite the easy banter we once shared, but it's a start.