Beneath The Surface

Chapter 45: Echoes of Pain

--- Marco's POV ---

After almost a week of following the same routine every day, Ace and I took turns making Raven breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Yet she just lay in bed, not fully present or acknowledging our attempts. She still hadn’t come out of the room.

It was now late at night, and once again, Raven hadn’t eaten her dinner. I stepped out of her room, closing the door softly behind me. The ache in my chest seemed to grow heavier with each passing day. As I descended the stairs, each step felt like a reminder of our inability to reach her. When I entered the kitchen, Ace looked up quickly, hope flickering in his eyes. But when he saw the untouched plate in my hands, his shoulders sagged, the glimmer of hope extinguished.

I placed the plate in the sink with a sigh, the clatter of porcelain against metal echoing in the silence. Without a word, I turned and made my way up to my room, feeling completely and utterly helpless.

In my room, I sat on the edge of the bed, placing my head in my hands. The regret for what I had done and said to Raven gnawed at me relentlessly. Minutes passed, maybe hours. Time seemed meaningless in the face of such guilt.

Eventually, the need to clear my head drove me downstairs. The kitchen was dark and quiet, the only sound the faint hum of the refrigerator. I needed a drink, something to numb the pain that was consuming me. I poured myself a glass of whiskey, downing it in one go before pouring another. The burn of the alcohol did little to ease the ache in my chest.

As I refilled my glass, I heard a noise and turned to see Ace entering the kitchen. His eyes were red rimmed, exhaustion evident in his posture. He looked at me with a mixture of concern and resignation.

Ace looked down at the table. “We’re losing her, Marco. I don’t know how much more of this she can take. How much more we can take.”

I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the frustration and guilt gnawing at me. “I know. I feel it too. But I don’t know what else to do. She’s not just shutting us out, she’s shutting herself down.”

The silence between us was heavy, filled with unspoken fears and uncertainties.

Deciding to make my way to the office, I headed toward the stairs, Ace close behind. As we reached the top, we suddenly heard sounds coming from Raven's room.

We exchanged a look of concern and curiosity before slowly approaching her door. I gently pushed it open and peeked inside. Raven wasn't in bed, but the unmistakable sounds of vomiting came from the ensuite bathroom.

We quickly moved toward her. I knelt beside her, grabbing her hair to keep it out of the way, while Ace crouched on the other side, placing a comforting hand on her back.

“Raven,” I murmured, trying to keep my voice steady. “We’re here.”

She didn’t respond, her body convulsing with each retch. I glanced at Ace, who looked just as confused as I felt. She hadn't eaten in days, so it couldn't be food.

When she finally stopped retching, she looked utterly exhausted. I wiped her mouth with a tissue, my heart aching at how fragile she seemed.

“Let’s get you back to bed,” I said gently, helping her up. She leaned heavily on me, trembling. Ace supported her from the other side, and we guided her back to the bed.

We tucked her in, and I could see the pain and confusion in her eyes. She looked so lost, and it tore me apart.

“We’re here for you, Raven,” Ace said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “If you need anything, just let us know.”

She nodded weakly, tears forming in her eyes. The torment she was enduring was palpable. I wished I could take it all away, make her pain disappear. But all I could do was be there for her.

“Rest now,” I said softly, watching her eyes flutter shut as exhaustion took over. We stayed for a moment, ensuring she was comfortable before quietly leaving the room.

Out in the hallway, I turned to Ace. “What the hell is going on with her? This isn’t normal.” I said, my voice heavy with worry. “She hasn’t eaten in days, and now she’s vomiting. It doesn’t add up.”

Ace rubbed his forehead, frustration evident. “Maybe we should get a doctor to see her. She might need medical help.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, my mind racing with possibilities. “Let’s get a doctor here as soon as possible. We need answers.”

Ace’s shoulders sagged slightly, a mix of relief and determination crossing his face. “I’ll call someone right now. We can’t let this go on any longer.”

As he headed downstairs to make the call, I lingered in the hallway, my mind racing. The past week had been hell, watching Raven withdraw further into herself. Every attempt to reach her, to bring her back to us, had failed. Seeing her like this, broken, fragile, was a nightmare I couldn't wake up from.

I followed Ace down to the kitchen, where he was already on the phone, arranging for a doctor to come. I stood by the counter, staring at the plate of untouched food. Each meal left uneaten was a stark reminder of how much we were losing her.

Ace ended the call, looking over at me. “Doctor will be here in an hour.”

“Good,” I said, my voice tight. “We need to know what’s going on.”

He nodded, and we stood in silence for a moment. Then, with a determined set to his jaw, Ace started tidying up the kitchen, as if the simple, mundane task could somehow bring order to the chaos in our lives.

As I watched him, my mind drifted back to the first time we met Raven. She had been a force of nature, fierce, independent, full of life. The woman lying upstairs, lost in her own world, was a shadow of that person. And it was my fault. I had pushed her away when she needed us the most.