Crossing boundaries

32.

Becky's PoV
The doctors had said she had internal bleeding in her head, which meant she couldn't take any stress—not even a little. The slightest emotional strain could worsen her condition, and the thought of that terrified me. I had to be strong, not just for her but for both of us. But how could I keep calm when my entire world was unraveling right before my eyes?

As I looked at Freen, I felt a deep, almost unbearable mix of emotions swirling within me—guilt, sorrow, fear, and something I didn't want to acknowledge just yet: love. It was a love I had kept buried, hidden beneath layers of confusion and denial, but in that moment, it all came rushing to the surface. I realized that, despite everything, I cared for her more than I had ever admitted to myself.

But what kind of love was this? Was it the kind that could keep us together, or was it just the remnants of a deep bond forged through years of shared experiences? Could I truly love her back the way she wanted, or was I fooling myself, driven by guilt and the fear of losing her? These questions plagued my mind, but I knew I couldn't dwell on them now. Freen needed me, and that was all that mattered.

Her smile, even through the pain, was like a beacon in the darkness. I had to focus on her recovery. My emotions could wait. I had to be her strength, her anchor in this storm. If that meant putting my own feelings aside, so be it. If that meant pretending everything was okay, even when it wasn't, I would do it. For Freen.

"I'll be here, Freen," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I'll take care of you. You just need to focus on getting better, okay?"

She nodded weakly, tears still streaming down her cheeks. Her vulnerability in that moment made her seem so small, so fragile, and it broke my heart. But I couldn't let her see that. I had to be the strong one, even if it meant lying to myself about how I truly felt.

I stayed with her until she fell asleep again, my hand never leaving hers. I watched as her breathing evened out, her face relaxing into a peaceful expression. It was a small relief, knowing she wasn't in pain at that moment. But as I sat there, the weight of my decision settled heavily on me. I had made up my mind.

I would try to love her back, even if it meant going against everything I knew, even if it meant defying my family. They would never understand. To them, love should be easy, straightforward, and this—whatever it was between Freen and me—was anything but. But I didn't care anymore. All I knew was that I couldn't bear to see her hurt again, and if loving her back could make her happy, I would do it.

Even if it meant leaving everything behind—our families, our pasts, the lives we once knew—I would stand by Freen. I would be the person she needed me to be. It was a promise, a vow I made silently in that sterile hospital room, with the scent of antiseptic in the air and the sound of machines humming in the background.

I didn't know what the future held for us. The road ahead was uncertain, filled with challenges I couldn't even begin to imagine. But as I sat there, watching over Freen, I knew one thing for certain: I would give it my all. For her. For us.

"I'll do this, Freen," I whispered to myself, gently squeezing her hand. "Only for you."

With that, I leaned back in my chair, exhaustion finally catching up with me. I closed my eyes, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. I would cry later, when I was alone. For now, I had to be strong. I had to keep it together, because if I fell apart, who would be there to pick up the pieces?

The night crept in slowly, and I felt myself drifting in and out of sleep. But every time I opened my eyes, I made sure Freen was still there, still breathing, still with me. I wasn't going to lose her. Not now. Not ever.

.............