Chapter 7: A Stranger's kindness

I felt a warm hand holding mine.

The touch was firm yet gentle.

Not demanding.

Not possessive.

Just... comforting.

For a moment, I thought I was dreaming.

I tried to open my eyes.

Nothing happened.

I tried to move my fingers.

Nothing.

My entire body felt trapped.

As though I was buried beneath invisible chains.

But my ears worked.

I could hear everything.

Every voice.

Every movement.

Every sound around me.

"Doctor, how is she doing?"

The deep masculine voice from earlier spoke again.

My heart skipped.

It was the same voice I had heard before everything went dark.

The same voice that somehow made everyone in the room fall silent.

The doctor sighed.

"Physically, she's stable."

There was a pause.

"But emotionally..."

His voice trailed off.

The man remained silent.

"What about emotionally?" he asked.

The doctor cleared his throat.

"I believe she suffered a severe emotional breakdown."

The words pierced through me.

A severe emotional breakdown.

Maybe he was right.

Maybe that was exactly what had happened.

How else could I explain the pain?

The betrayal.

The humiliation.

The emptiness.

I had lost everything in a single day.

My marriage.

My home.

My family.

My future.

The doctor continued.

"Patients who go through this kind of trauma sometimes lose the desire to fight."

The room fell silent.

I wanted to laugh.

Fight?

What exactly was I fighting for now?

David?

The man who replaced me?

The man who handed me divorce papers as though Seven years of love meant nothing?

No.

There was nothing left worth fighting for.

A tear slipped down my cheek.

I felt it travel slowly toward my ear.

The doctor immediately noticed.

"Look."

His voice softened.

"She's responding."

The strange man didn't speak immediately.

When he finally did, his voice was lower.

Almost thoughtful.

"She's crying."

Yes.

I was crying.

Because no matter how hard I tried...

I couldn't stop thinking about David.

The room became quiet.

Then the man asked,

"Have you contacted her family?"

Family.

The word hurt.

The doctor replied,

"We found her phone and tried calling the first emergency contact."

"And?"

"No response."

I felt my chest tighten.

The doctor continued.

"We called twice earlier."

The man was silent.

"Try again."

His voice wasn't loud.

Yet somehow it sounded like an order.

The doctor immediately obeyed.

"Yes, sir."

Several minutes passed.

The room remained quiet.

Then the doctor returned.

"No answer."

The man spoke again.

"Call once more."

Another order.

Another immediate response.

"Right away."

The doctor left again.

I wanted to disappear.

I already knew who they were calling.

David.

The man who once promised to answer every call.

The man who used to panic whenever I had a fever.

The man who once claimed I was his entire world.

A bitter smile formed inside my mind.

That man no longer existed.

A few minutes later, the doctor returned.

This time his voice sounded strange.

Confused.

"Sir."

The room immediately became attentive.

"What is it?"

The doctor hesitated.

"The number has blocked her."

My heart shattered all over again.

Even though I already knew.

Even though I expected it.

The truth still hurt.

Blocked.

David had blocked me.

The same day he divorced me.

The same day he threw me away.

The same day I became unwanted.

Fresh tears escaped my eyes.

I couldn't stop them.

The room became quiet.

Then the man suddenly spoke.

His voice was colder than before.

Much colder.

"Anyone responsible for putting a woman in this condition is heartless."

My breathing caught.

Heartless.

Nobody had defended me before.

Nobody.

Not after David abandoned me.

Not after Scarlett insulted me 

Not after Charlotte took my place.

Yet a complete stranger was angry on my behalf.

Why?

Why did he care?

He didn't even know my name.

The doctor cleared his throat.

"There are other concerns."

The man's attention immediately shifted.

"What concerns?"

The doctor began explaining.

"She was severely exhausted when she arrived."

I listened quietly.

"She was dehydrated."

The doctor continued.

"Her blood pressure was dangerously low."

The room remained silent.

"Her body will recover."

The doctor sounded confident.

"But emotionally, she needs support."

Support.

I almost laughed.

The only person who had ever supported me was Aunt Beatrice.

And she was lying in a hospital bed herself.

Waiting for a surgery I couldn't afford.

The guilt hit me instantly.

Aunt Beatrice.

My aunt.

My only family.

How was she?

Had her surgery happened?

Was she okay?

The questions tortured me.

Yet I couldn't ask any of them.

The doctor continued speaking.

"She shouldn't be left alone after she wakes up."

The man answered immediately.

"Then don't leave her alone."

The doctor sounded surprised.

"Sir?"

"Assign a private nurse."

The room fell silent.

Then he added,

"The best one."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

The doctor quickly replied,

"Of course."

The man wasn't finished.

"Get her a caregiver as well."

The doctor paused.

"A caregiver?"

"Yes."

His tone left no room for argument.

"Someone who will stay with her."

"Understood."

I felt completely confused.

Why was he doing this?

Why was he spending money on me?

Why was he concerned?

I was nobody.

Just a woman he found unconscious during a storm.

Yet he was taking care of me better than my own husband ever had.

The realization hurt.

Because it was true.

David had watched me cry countless times.

David had watched me struggle.

David had watched me lose my ability to become a mother.

And still...

He left.

The room gradually became quieter.

Some of the nurses left.

The doctor left as well.

Only a few people remained.

Including him.

I could feel his presence.

Strong.

Silent.

Commanding.

Even without seeing him, I knew he was still there.

Watching.

Thinking.

For several minutes, nobody spoke.

Then I felt his hand gently take mine again.

My heart immediately began racing.

The warmth of his touch felt strangely reassuring.

Safe.

The complete opposite of the cold loneliness I had felt for days.

Then he spoke.

Softly.

More to himself than anyone else.

"Strange."

The room remained silent.

I felt his gaze on me.

Studying me.

Carefully.

"She looks familiar."