LOVE BEYOND TIME

CHAPTER 7: THE WAITING ROOM

Mia's health had been slipping quickly, each passing day stealing something from her—her laughter, her strength, and finally, her voice. Her vibrant smile now flickered like a dying candle. Ethan had known she was getting worse, but nothing prepared him for the conversation with Dr. Ashcroft.

"We have one final option, but it's incredibly risky," Dr. Ashcroft explained, his face ashen. "It's a delicate operation, and given Mia's current state... there's no guarantee."

The weight of the doctor's words was crushing. Ethan glanced at Mia, sleeping peacefully on her hospital bed, her face pale but serene. They'd been through so much, yet here they were, standing at the edge of the last hope left to them.

"Do whatever it takes," Ethan said, his voice firm. His heart pounded with the decision, each beat echoing the gravity of what he'd just agreed to. Dr. Ashcroft handed him the consent forms, the papers that held the key to Mia's fate. Signing felt like signing away a part of himself.

The following morning, as they prepped Mia for surgery, she took Ethan's hand, her fingers weak and cold. "I'll be back," she whispered with a faint smile. "Wait for me."

With a final squeeze of her hand, he watched as the nurses wheeled her away. The operating room doors swung closed behind her, cutting off his view, leaving Ethan alone with a silence heavier than anything he'd ever known.

In the sterile waiting room, hours bled into one another. The artificial light above seemed too bright, too cold. His eyes darted to the clock on the wall, each second a punch to his gut. It had only been an hour, but it felt like a lifetime. Dr. Ashcroft had told him it would be at least four hours, but every tick of the second hand felt like it dragged time backward instead of forward.

Ethan tried to sit, but he couldn't still his racing thoughts. Flashbacks of Mia laughing, dancing, and her playful teasing all replayed in his mind. This was supposed to be their life together, not this unending nightmare of illness, suffering, and endless hospital visits. He felt helpless, haunted by a suffocating guilt that gnawed at him: what if he hadn't met her, loved her so much, encouraged her to keep fighting? He wondered if it was his fault she hadn't found peace yet, and the thought tore at him like a wound.

The hours ticked by, each one more unbearable than the last. Nurses moved in and out of the waiting room, families reunited with loved ones, some people leaving in tears. He was aware of everyone around him, yet completely alone in his own world of dread and despair.

Finally, the operating room doors opened, and Dr. Ashcroft approached. Ethan's heart raced as he read the expression on the doctor's face, one that spoke of the weariness of a man who had spent hours fighting for someone's life. "The surgery went as well as we could hope," he said, his tone cautious. "But Mia's body has been through a lot. She's stable, but unconscious. We'll monitor her closely, but you can see her now."

The doctor's words were a hollow comfort, but Ethan nodded, forcing himself to stand, his legs heavy with dread. He walked down the sterile hall, the fluorescent lights casting a harsh glow on the polished floors, until he reached Mia's room.

There she was, lying still against the crisp white sheets, an oxygen mask over her face, her hair spread across the pillow. She looked like she was asleep, a peacefulness that didn't match the torment in his heart.

Sinking into the chair beside her bed, Ethan took her hand, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. "Mia," he whispered, his voice breaking as tears filled his eyes. "I'm so sorry. I don't know if this is because of me. If I could take your pain, I would. I would in a heartbeat."

The room was silent save for the soft hum of the machines and the gentle rise and fall of Mia's chest. Ethan's heart ached with a pain he couldn't describe. He rested his head beside her hand, letting the tears fall freely, the weight of everything pressing down on him until he felt he couldn't breathe.

Hours passed. He stayed by her side, gripping her hand as if it were the only thing tethering him to this world.

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