UNTIL DEATH ( Love should Never be this deathly )

CHAPTER 9

As Andrea stepped into the sterile confines of the hospital room, the sharp scent of antiseptic filled the air, "How's he doing, Rosa?" she asked, her voice trembling with concern as her gaze fell upon the figure lying motionless on the bed.

Dylan, once vibrant and full of laughter, now lay ensnared in a web of IV tubes, each one a lifeline tethering him to the world. The gauze wrapped around his head, stark against the pallor of his skin, conveyed a haunting vulnerability that tugged at Andrea's heart. It was a painful contrast to the image of the happy, handsome man she had known, someone whose smile could light up the darkest of days.

"For the time being, he's stable," Rosa managed to say, her voice quaking with suppressed emotion. "Apart from multiple wounds, the doctor said he has two fractured ribs and..." Her words faltered as a sob caught in her throat, heavy with the weight of memories that refused to fade. The recollection of the night Dylan had been shot—because of her—was etched indelibly into her mind, an agonizing reminder of the fragility of life.

She could still see him, crumpled and bleeding, a sight that threatened to unravel her completely. If they hadn't rushed him to the hospital in time, he would have slipped away forever.

Two days had passed since that fateful incident, and Rosa had remained steadfastly at his side, unwilling to leave even for a moment. She knew that when he woke, the first question he would ask would be about her, and she longed to be there, to reassure him.

But alongside that hope simmered a burning curiosity—why had those men attacked him? The unanswered question gnawed at her, a relentless ache in her chest.

"The bullet didn't cause any serious damage," she continued, her fingers brushing away the tears that streamed down her cheeks. She closed her eyes for a fleeting moment, mentally offering gratitude to a higher power for sparing him, even if just for now.

"He'll need to stay here for a few days until he's fully healed; we're just waiting for him to wake up," she added, her voice steadier than she felt.

Rosa lifted her gaze to meet Andrea's eyes, her own filled with an ocean of sorrow that threatened to spill over once more.

"Andrea... why hasn't he woken up yet? It's been two days... I can't bear to see him like this. I can't do anything, not even sleep. Every time I close my eyes, those memories flood back... the way he was shot, and then..." She hesitated, a painful memory clawing at her throat—the way he had forcibly kissed her, a moment now twisted by the violence that followed.

"Andrea, I... I'm terrified. I don't want to lose him." Her voice broke as the tears came anew, each sob a reminder of the bond they shared. "He's the only family I've ever known..." The words tumbled from her lips, choked by the weight of grief and fear, as she cried, each hiccup a testament to the depth of her love and the uncertainty that loomed like a dark cloud over her heart.

Andrea felt a profound sorrow wash over her as she observed Rosa's current state. The puffy eyes and dark circles that shadowed her face told a silent story of pain and anguish, one that resonated deeply within Andrea's heart.

Without a second thought, she moved closer, wrapping her arms around Rosa while standing near her chair. The gesture was instinctive, a surge of protective instinct fueled by an unbreakable bond. Rosa, in turn, buried her face against Andrea's stomach, seeking solace in the embrace that felt both comforting and safe.

In that moment, Andrea couldn't help but see Rosa as the younger sister she had always admired—a beacon of strength and vulnerability intertwined.

"If something happens to him, I'm going to die," Rosa whispered, her voice trembling with fear and despair. A haunting declaration that chilled Andrea to her core.