Heart and Track

-20-

☆꧁༒Louisa May Pearl༒꧂☆

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As the days pass, the hospital becomes a place of routine—a place where time seems to stretch endlessly. Each visit to Holden's room is filled with equal parts hope and dread, the sterile smell of antiseptic mingling with the scent of fresh flowers brought in by visitors.

But today is different. As I approach Holden's room, I see Margaret standing in the doorway, her expression hard and unyielding. My steps falter, my heart racing with anxiety.

"Louisa," Margaret says, her voice cold and authoritative. "You need to leave."

I stop in my tracks, confusion washing over me. "What? Why?"

"Because you've done enough damage," she snaps, her eyes narrowing. "This charade of a relationship needs to end. I'm not letting you anywhere near my son."

The words sting, but I try to stay calm. "Margaret, I care about Holden. I just want to be here for him."

"Care about him?" she scoffs, folding her arms across her chest. "You've been nothing but a distraction, and now look where it's gotten him. My son is lying in that bed because of you. This relationship, this whole plan—it's over. You're done."

My chest tightens, panic rising within me. "Margaret, please—"

"No," she interrupts, her tone final. "I've already told the media that you're leaving him. I said it's because he is in a coma and isn't giving you enough attention. That should make it easier for you to walk away. I am doing you both a favour."

My blood runs cold at her words. "You told the media? How could you do that without even talking to me?"

"I did what needed to be done," she says, her voice devoid of any warmth. "This is for Holden's sake. He doesn't need any more distractions."

Tears well up in my eyes as I realize the full extent of what she's done. "You've just painted me as someone who doesn't care about him."

Margaret's expression doesn't waver. "It's better this way. The media will move on, and so will you. Now, leave."

"But-" Just when I'm about to speak, Margaret's hand land on my right cheek. The sting of Margaret's slap reverberates through me, shocking me into silence. For a moment, I can't move, can't think—only the burning sensation on my cheek registers. Her eyes are hard and unyielding, filled with a cold fury that cuts deeper than any words she's spoken.

"Enough," she hisses, her voice low but laced with venom. "I'm not going to let you ruin him any further. Leave now, Louisa, and don't come back."

I stand there, my mind reeling, trying to process what just happened. My hand instinctively rises to touch my cheek, the warmth of the slap still searing my skin. My vision blurs with tears, but I refuse to let them fall. I won't give her the satisfaction.

"Margaret, please," I manage to whisper, my voice trembling. "I love him. I don't want to leave him like this."

Her eyes narrow, and she takes a step closer, her presence looming over me like a dark cloud. "Love?" she spits out the word as if it's poison. "You don't know the meaning of love. If you did, you would have stayed away from the beginning. This was all just a game to you, and now my son is paying the price. Oh, of course you won't leave him, it is because you wanted his money right? How much do you want? Million? two?"