Rege ate.
But not because he wanted to.
Not because he was hungry.
Not because his body needed it.
He ate because Tatiana's words had followed him out of the hospital and into the silence of his car.
Maya needs you to be strong when she wakes up.
The food tasted like nothing.
Like ash.
Like obligation.
He chewed without registering it, swallowed without feeling it, his grip on the steering wheel tightening with every passing second as the city blurred past him.
Everything felt slow.
Too slow.
Time had never felt like an enemy before.
But now—
Every second felt like it was taking something from him.
By the time he reached the hospital, the last bite still sat heavy in his throat.
Unwanted.
Unnecessary.
Forgotten.
He didn't slow down.
Didn't pause.
Didn't prepare himself.
He walked straight into the VVIP suite—
And stopped.
Empty.
The bed—
Empty.
For one second—
One dangerous, suffocating second—
His world tilted.
His breath caught so sharply it hurt.
His mind didn't process.
Didn't accept.
Didn't allow.
No.
No.
No.
He moved immediately, his steps sharp, fast, almost violent as he checked the washroom.
Empty.
Still empty.
Too empty.
His pulse spiked, something cold creeping into his chest as his hand went for his phone.
Tatiana.
He would call Tatiana.
Because there was no way—
No possible way—
He would accept the worst.
His fingers hovered over the screen.
Then—
"There you are."
Adela's voice cut through everything.
Rege froze.
Turned.
Adela stood at the entrance, slightly breathless, her gaze landing on him with a mixture of relief and quiet understanding.
"Mum wanted me to check if you were back," she said gently. "Because she didn't want you to be worried."
Her eyes flickered briefly to the empty bed.
"By the looks of it… it seems she was right."
Rege exhaled.
Soft.
Controlled.
But it carried everything he refused to show.
"Where is she?"
His voice was low.
Steady.
But there was something underneath it.
Something sharp.
"She's in for some examinations," Adela answered, her tone calm. "They just took her."
Rege nodded slowly.
His gaze lingered on Adela for a moment longer than necessary.
A silent question.
Unspoken.
Unavoidable.
Adela understood.
"She's not awake," she said quietly.
Yet.
The word hung between them, even though she didn't say it.
Rege nodded once.
Again.
And just then—
The door opened.
The nurses wheeled Maya in.
Tatiana walked closely behind them.
Rege didn't move.
Didn't speak.
Didn't breathe.
He just watched.
Watched as they brought her back.
Placed her gently on the bed.
Adjusted the machines.
Checked the monitors.
Her body looked so small.
So fragile.
Too still.
Tatiana and Adela moved closer.
Rege followed.
But he stopped just a step behind them.
Close enough.
Not close enough.
The nurses worked efficiently, their movements practiced and calm, as if this was just another routine.
Just another patient.
Just another case.
But to them—
She was everything.
When they were done, Rege spoke.
"Where is the doctor?"
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
"He's handling a handover," one of the nurses replied politely. "He will be with you shortly."
Rege nodded.
Dismissed them without a word.
Adela reached forward, brushing Maya's hair gently away from her face.
Her touch was soft.
Careful.
As if Maya could feel it.
As if she might wake up at any moment.
"We are here," Adela whispered with a small smile.
It didn't reach her eyes.
But it was there.
For Maya.
She stepped back slowly and moved toward Tatiana, sitting beside her on the couch.
Rege remained standing.
Still.
Rigid.
His hands buried deep in his pockets, fists clenched tightly enough to hurt.
His jaw was locked.
His gaze—
Fixed.
Unmoving.
Unforgiving.
On her.
"Your assistant, James, brought red roses and fruits."
Adela's voice broke the silence.
Rege blinked.
Just once.
As if he had forgotten the world existed beyond her.
His eyes shifted slightly.
To the side.
There they were.
Flowers.
Bright.
Alive.
Wrong.
But somehow—
Right.
He nodded once.
His jaw loosening just a fraction.
Then—
A knock.
The door opened.
And Dr. Jenkins walked in.
Smiling.
Like this was normal.
Like everything was fine.
"Good morning, ladies. Rege," he greeted casually. "I am the new doctor handling the patient, Maya Windget, and I would like your cooperation."
Tatiana recognized him immediately.
Of course she did.
Anyone would.
"Of course, Doctor," she replied smoothly. "It is our pleasure."
Dr. Jenkins nodded and moved toward Maya.
He began his examination.
Checking.
Observing.
Listening.
The room fell silent again.
Heavy.
Watching him.
Waiting.
Measuring every second.
Every expression.
Every shift.
Rege didn't blink.
Didn't move.
Didn't breathe properly.
Until—
Dr. Jenkins stepped back.
Turned.
And looked at them.
"There's good news," he said with a smile. "Maya is still with us. She's just having a very needed beauty sleep."
Adela inhaled quickly.
"So she's okay? Why isn't she awake?"
The questions came fast.
Too fast.
Dr. Jenkins smiled again.
"She's okay. Just tired. She's not awake yet because she's resting."
Rege rolled his eyes.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Then his voice came—
Low.
Calm.
Lethal.
"Get to the point."
The smile faltered.
Just slightly.
Dr. Jenkins opened his mouth—
Then stopped.
Because Rege's gaze—
Was not one to ignore.
Tatiana intervened smoothly.
"Be as blunt as you can," she said. "Tell us what is going on with Maya."
Her voice was calm.
Controlled.
But her fingers—
Hidden behind her back—
Moved.
Restless.
Uneasy.
Dr. Jenkins nodded.
The smile disappeared.
Completely.
"I am aware you know of her heart condition," he began. "Well… it's not getting better."
The words landed heavily.
"There's also an ulcer in her chest," he continued. "And her lungs are not cooperating as they should."
Adela's breath hitched.
"The coughing of blood… was a result of the chest ulcer and her struggling lungs."
Silence.
Heavy.
Suffocating.
Tatiana didn't react.
Not visibly.
But her breathing—
Broke.
Just slightly.
Almost unnoticeable.
Rege—
Was a storm contained in flesh.
His jaw tightened painfully.
His fists clenched harder inside his pockets.
His foot tapped.
Soft.
Steady.
Controlled chaos.
"What are we going to do, Doctor?" Tatiana asked calmly.
Dr. Jenkins nodded.
"That's why I am here. It's not the worst-case scenario. It's not looking good—but it's not bad."
A pause.
"I believe the previous doctor informed you that her heart condition cannot be cured with surgery."
Tatiana nodded once.
"We will continue with her medication," he continued. "And I can assure you—her chest and lungs will be fine within six months."
Six months.
Again.
Rege's jaw ticked.
"No need to worry," Dr. Jenkins added with a small smile. "She's fine. She's one hell of a fighter."
Rege's gaze flickered.
Briefly.
"She won't give up without a fight."
Silence.
Then—
"Why isn't she awake?"
Rege's voice.
Low.
Steady.
Controlled.
Dr. Jenkins turned to him.
"She will be awake soon. She was placed in a temporary induced coma to allow her lungs and chest to rest."
A pause.
"I am here if you need anything," he added lightly. "Rege has my contact—and he's always eager to be a bother."
A faint laugh.
Unnecessary.
Unwanted.
He glanced at Maya once more.
Then left.
The door closed softly behind him.
And the silence returned.
Heavier than before.
Adela moved first.
She wrapped her arms around Tatiana.
"Mum… she's going to be fine."
Tatiana held her.
Firmly.
"Yes," she said softly. "She's going to be fine."
A pause.
"She's our Maya."
Rege didn't move.
Not immediately.
Then—
He stepped forward.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
He moved closer to the bed.
Closer to her.
Until there was nothing between them.
He leaned slightly.
His gaze fixed on her face.
Tracing every detail.
Every line.
Every breath.
Her forehead scrunched.
Just slightly.
A small reaction.
But to him—
It was everything.
Rege stilled.
His gaze sharpened, locking onto that tiny movement like it was the only thing anchoring him to reality.
He frowned.
Then—
Without hesitation—
He leaned in.
And pressed a kiss to her forehead.
Soft.
Careful.
Intentional.
Not rushed.
Not desperate.
But controlled—
Like everything else about him.
And yet—
It carried something deeper.
Something unspoken.
The moment his lips touched her skin—
The lines disappeared.
Just like that.
Rege froze.
For a fraction of a second, something flickered in his eyes.
Something dangerously close to relief.
Then—
A faint smile touched his lips.
Small.
Rare.
Real.
He leaned closer.
Closer to her ear.
Close enough that his breath brushed against her skin.
Warm.
Steady.
Alive.
"Wake up, Krasota."
A whisper.
Low.
Controlled.
But beneath it—
A command.
A plea.
A refusal to accept anything else.
And then—
Her fingers moved.
Slightly.
Barely noticeable.
But not to him.
Rege went completely still.
Every muscle locked.
Every breath paused.
Then—
Her lashes fluttered.
Slow.
Uncertain.
Like she was fighting through something heavy.
Something pulling her back.
The light was too harsh.
Too bright.
Rege moved instantly.
No hesitation.
He reached for the curtains and drew them slightly, dimming the room, softening everything—
Making it easier.
For her.
Tatiana and Adela watched.
Quiet.
Still.
Because something had shifted.
Something they hadn't seen before.
Not just urgency.
Not just control.
But presence.
Maya's eyes opened.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Struggling to adjust.
And the first thing she saw—
Was him.
Rege.
Standing there.
Watching her.
With that—
Ridiculous smirk.
Her lips twitched beneath the oxygen mask.
A weak roll of her eyes followed.
Soft.
Familiar.
Alive.
And in that moment—
Something inside Rege settled.
Not completely.
Not fully.
But enough.
Enough to breathe.
"She's awake."
His voice was quiet.
Certain.
Like a fact he had already decided into existence.
Then—
He stepped back.
Just slightly.
Giving space.
Because he understood.
Because this moment—
Wasn't his.
Not entirely.
But Maya—
For a brief second—
Her gaze lingered.
On where he had been.
On the absence he had just created.
And something in her expression shifted.
Subtle.
Fleeting.
Then—
She turned.
To Tatiana.
To Adela.
And smiled.
Weak.
Soft.
But real.
"We'll do something about this, dear," Tatiana said gently, gesturing toward the oxygen mask.
Adela nodded quickly, her eyes bright with emotion, her smile trembling but present.
And Maya—
Looked at them.
Really looked at them.
Her people.
Her family.
The ones who stayed.
The ones who didn't leave.
The ones who held on.
And for the first time since everything began—
The weight pressing against her chest—
Eased.
Not completely.
Not permanently.
But enough.
Enough for her to breathe.
And in that quiet, fragile moment—
Surrounded by them—
Maya felt it.
Peace.
Not because everything was okay.
Not because the danger had passed.
But because—
She wasn't alone.
Not anymore.
Not in this.
Not ever again.