Love, Eventually

Chapter 10: When a Heart Stops Loving

The sterile quiet of the operating room's hallway clung to Brielle like a second skin. She sat rigidly on a plastic chair, flanked by her concerned parents. Her tears had dried to a trembling stillness, but sorrow still lived in her eyes. Earlier, both her mother and Finnigan's had enveloped her in comforting embraces, whispering reassurance she struggled to believe. Now, they waited—each second stretching painfully—as hope clung to the doctor's yet-unknown words.

While her body remained still, her mind spiraled. Her thoughts looped back to a distant memory—the day Finnigan saved her from drowning. Their lips had met not out of romance, but survival. Yet even then, something had flickered between them. She remembered that kiss more vividly than any she'd shared since, even with Ash—her current boyfriend. A boyfriend she met in London, a new chapter she'd written while unknowingly leaving her past unfinished.

The doctor finally stepped out. Brielle stood instantly, her voice trembling. "How is my husband? Please... is he okay?"

The doctor offered a tight smile. "We managed to stop the internal bleeding, but he lost a lot of blood. His heart stopped twice—we had to resuscitate him both times. He's in critical condition. The next 24 hours are crucial."

The words struck like a blade. Her knees nearly buckled. Twice. His heart had stopped twice.

"Can I see him?" she whispered after a beat.

"Yes," the doctor nodded gently. "But only two at a time. Talk to him, Brielle. He may be able to hear you. That connection can be powerful."

"I... I need to change first," she murmured, glancing down at her bloodstained clothes. His blood. The physical proof of how close she'd come to losing him.

She stepped into a nearby restroom, changed into scrubs, and scrubbed at her hands until her skin reddened. Still, the blood felt like it clung to her soul. She cried quietly, unable to silence the guilt echoing in her chest. They still had so much left unsaid.

When she returned, Finnigan's mother was sobbing quietly in his father's arms.

"You go ahead," Brielle said softly. "I want to be the last to see him."

His mother looked at her, eyes rimmed red. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. Please," Brielle insisted.

His mother hugged her tightly. "He's strong. He'll come back to us."

Brielle nodded, swallowing a lump in her throat. "He's a fighter."

After everyone else had gone in and offered their emotional goodbyes for the night, Brielle was finally alone. With a trembling breath, she stepped into the ICU.

The sight of Finnigan stole whatever breath she had left.

Machines hummed. Wires crisscrossed his bruised skin. His chest rose and fell in shallow rhythm. He looked fragile—nothing like the man who once laughed with her under summer skies or carried her out of the water with trembling hands.

She collapsed into the chair beside him and took his hand gently. "Please fight, Fin," she whispered. "You saved me... please let me save you too."

She spoke softly, recounting memories, confessing regrets, making promises she prayed she'd have the chance to keep. Eventually, exhaustion claimed her and she drifted into a restless sleep beside him.

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A sudden flurry of movement jarred her awake. Nurses rushed in.

The monitor—flatlined.

"No," she whispered. "No, no, no—"

She stood frozen, heart plummeting, unable to breathe. Not again. He couldn't survive another—

A nurse gently touched her arm. "Dr. Murphy... he's stable. We revived his heartbeat again."

Relief was a physical force, crashing into her like a wave.

A doctor approached, concern etched into his features. "You should go home, Brielle. Get some rest."

She shook her head. "No. I can't leave him. I want to be the first thing he sees when he wakes up."

The doctor sighed. "Then at least sleep properly. You won't be any help to him if you collapse."

Once alone again, she returned to his side, her hands wrapped tightly around his.

"Please don't scare me like that again," she choked out, her tears falling freely. "You can't leave me. Not now."

She brushed his hair back, smoothing it gently. "You look so handsome like this," she said, smiling through the ache in her chest. "But I love your messy curls more."

If he were awake, she knew he'd laugh at her. Probably tease her. He always knew how to make her smile, even when she didn't want to.

The door opened softly.

"Brielle?" came a familiar voice.

She turned. Ash stood in the doorway—concern written across his face.

"I heard what happened. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she said quickly. "But I need to talk to you. Not here."

She led him into the hallway.

"That's your husband?"

She nodded. "Yes. And he's in that bed because of me."

"Bri—"

"I can't do this anymore, Ash. I can't be with you."

His brow furrowed. "What are you saying?"

"I betrayed someone who would've died for me. And he nearly did. I want to be a good wife to him. I need to make things right."

Ash's eyes filled with pain, but he nodded slowly. "I get it. And... I hope we can still be friends."

She gave him a tearful smile. "Of course. When he wakes up, I'll introduce you properly."

He smiled faintly, then left without another word.

Brielle returned to the room and sat beside Finnigan once more, her hand wrapped around his.

"Open your eyes soon, Fin," she whispered, kissing his hand. "I miss you already."