Chapter 150: Chapter 150
Music Recommendation: It will rain by Bruno Mars.
.....
Tears stood in Dominic’s eyes the moment Ronan left and closed the door behind him. The click of the latch echoed like a gunshot in the silence.
He stood still, his shoulders taut, as he stared at the empty suite as though it had swallowed everything inside it.
Everything!
Everything was too quiet.
He shut his eyes for a second, drew a deep breath, and opened them again. Then he immediately turned and rushed to Celeste’s side.
His shadow loomed over her, long and heavy, as though even the light couldn’t touch him anymore.
The monitor kept on beeping. Each sound stabbed into him like a metronome counting down a life he was terrified of losing.
"I don’t know what to do, Celeste," he whispered. His voice broke. He didn’t care anymore. There was no one left to hear him. Just her.
His knees bent, and he sat down heavily on the chair beside her bed. He leaned forward, one hand gripping her hand softly, and the other trembling over hers without quite touching her. He couldn’t. He was afraid if he touched her a lot, she would vanish into dust.
Everything he ever touched had a way of always becoming sick with sadness and death. He thought she’d never be affected because of how bright her light was. Unfortunately, this was her now. This coma was caused by him.
"I think I always have a plan," he muttered, his jaw clenching. "But I don’t. Not anymore, or at least not with you. I don’t know how to fight for you. I don’t know how to protect you from this." His throat worked painfully. "And I don’t know how to live without you if this... if this is all I get."
He pressed her knuckles to his mouth, shaking his head.
"I kept Ronan alive," he went on, his voice lower than usual, and more broken. "I protected him, even when I should have let him burn. I carried all of Father’s sins like they were mine. I paid debts I never owed. But with you—" His voice cracked, and the word lodged in his throat. "—with you, I wanted something clean. I wanted someone mine."
The tears finally slipped, hot and heavy. He didn’t wipe them. They rolled down his face, falling onto the back of her hand.
The monitor beeped. Steady. Unchanging.
"Tell me you’ve had enough of our love." He choked on his breath.
Dominic dragged in a breath that trembled, and finally, he placed his other hand over hers.
His thumb brushed across her knuckles. "Do you hear me, Celeste? I’ll burn the world for you. I’ll tear Carlos apart piece by piece. Just—" His voice broke to a whisper. "Just open your eyes. Please. Just a little bit would be enough. Even for a second. I can’t live like this anymore."
Silence.
The same silence that had followed him for days went on. It felt like he had been collecting just dust.
But then, this time, the silence didn’t linger for so long.
Her finger twitched.
Dominic stilled. His breath caught, the world halting with him. He stared at her hand as if he had imagined it. He waited.
Nothing came again. Or at least, not immediately.
He swallowed hard, and his chest tightened. He almost convinced himself it was only his wishful thinking, hoping this day would go back to the day her finger moved. But then....
Her finger moved again.
This time, it was unmistakable.
Dominic shot to his feet, the chair scraping against the floor. His hand darted to the button on the lamp stand, slamming it. The sound of it buzzed like thunder.
He never thought he’d ever relive an experience. Never in his life.
"Doctor!" His voice thundered down the hall, sharp enough to slice through the silence.
Footsteps immediately rushed towards his door. The sound of rushing bodies could be heard from aside. But Dominic’s eyes never left her hand.
Amara barged in, and the doctors also barged in, with their white coats flaring, and machines being dragged.
They pressed past him, calling out orders, but he didn’t move. He stood by her bed, like a sentinel carved out of stone, just watching.
Her chest rose, and fell as her lashes flickered.
"Celeste," he whispered.
The monitor spiked, and the rhythm shifted.
"We’re losing her." One of the doctors shouted, worried. And another pressed her chest with a machine.
Dominic’s heart dropped.
"Excuse me," Dominic pushed past a doctor, and rushed towards her bed. He took her hand in his, and let the doctors do what they had to do. "Hey, baby, listen to me. I’m here. Don’t you dare do what you’re about to do."
Dominic bent over her, his forehead nearly pressing against her cold head. His grip on her hand was desperate now, as though he could drag her back by sheer will.
The monitor blared, and the doctors shouted. The harsh smell of burning plastic and antiseptic choked the room.
And then....
Her lips parted. A broken rasp slipped out of her, jagged and dry, scraping against his soul.
"Water..."
The word was broken. It was small, but alive.
Dominic’s world shattered, and rebuilt itself in the same instant. His chest caved with relief so raw it almost dropped him to his knees.
Relief—violent, brutal, bone-shaking relief—tore through him, stealing his breath. His vision blurred as tears spilled freely, and he didn’t care who saw.
For once in his godforsaken life, Dominic Cross didn’t care about pride, or masks, or the man people feared. He was just a man who almost lost the only person who made his life worth living.
The doctors surged closer, scrambling to respond. One nurse rushed forward with a cup, and another with a straw.
Dominic refused to let go of her hand. His grip tightened, and trembled, while he angled closer. His eyes locked on her face like she was the axis of his entire universe.
"Easy," one of the doctors murmured, sliding the straw to her lips.
Celeste’s throat bobbed as she swallowed. Her swallow was small, as she took fragile gulps that sounded like salvation itself.
Dominic’s knees nearly gave out. He bent closer, with his eyes wide, as he watched every flutter of her lashes, and every fragile breath she dragged in like the world was too heavy for her lungs. He gasped for air.
And then, her lashes trembled. Slowly. Painfully slow. And finally, her eyes opened.
Dominic froze. His entire body turned to stone, except for the violent pounding of his heart.
Her gaze shifted sluggishly, wandering the ceiling, the machines, and the faces around her, until it landed on him.
On him.
The air left his chest in a ragged sob. He pressed a hand to his mouth, his body folding inward as if he’d just been gutted. His other hand clutched hers tighter, anchoring himself to the only thing that mattered.
"Celeste..." His voice cracked, raw and broken. He didn’t even care how pathetic he sounded. "God, baby..."
Her lips parted, soundless at first, before the smallest, weakest curve tugged at the corners. She gave him a ghost smile.
And Dominic, Dominic, who had slit throats without blinking, and who had sent men screaming to their graves without remorse, dropped to his knees beside her bed, bowed his head against her hand, and wept.
The doctors moved around them, voices low, as they adjusted wires, and monitored numbers, but it all blurred into nothing. Dominic only heard the rasp of her breath. He only felt the faint twitch of her fingers trying to curl into his.
She was here. She was back.
When he finally dared to look up, her eyes hadn’t left him. They were still hazy, and still lost between consciousness and exhaustion, but they found him in the noise, clung to him the way his soul clung to her.