Page 46 of Raphael
Speech is still beyond me, but I squeeze his hand with all my feeble strength. If stubbornness can speed my recovery, I will be up and about in no time. Raphael’s gentle warmth heals me more than any medicine.
Gabrielle stands, glancing at Raphael. “I’ll leave you two alone,” she says, her voice warm. She squeezes my hand gently before slipping out of the room, leaving us in a bubble of intimacy.
“Gaby…” he says as she pauses at the doorway. His lips twitch up in a sincere smile. “Thanks.”
Raphael takes the seat Gabrielle vacated, reaching for my hand. His touch is gentle, but his grasp is firm, grounding. “How are you feeling?” he asks, his eyes searching mine for the truth.
“I’m... managing,” I reply, the words inadequate to describe the maelstrom of emotions inside me. “Gabrielle… She’s... incredible.”
Raphael’s lips curve into a small, proud smile. “Yeah, she’s always had a way of making people feel better. I’m glad she was here for you.”
There’s a pause, a comfortable silence that settles between us. Raphael’s presence is calming, a steady anchor in the chaos that has become my life. I find myself leaning into his touch, craving the comfort and safety it provides.
“Rafa, I’ve been thinking...” I start, my voice barely above a whisper. “About everything that’s happened, about us. I’m scared. I don’t want my troubles to become yours.”
Raphael’s expression softens, his thumb lightly brushing the back of my hand. “Helena, your troublesaremy troubles. We’re in this together, remember? I’m not going anywhere.”
His words are a balm to my weary soul. I squeeze his hand, a silent thank you for his unwavering support. Raphael leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead.
“I love you,” I force out, voice cracked and stilted. Speaking shreds my throat, but I forge on. “Love you, Rafa...”
The rest dissolves into coughs. But Raphael’s whole countenance shifts from panic to profound joy and relief. He sinks carefully beside me on the bed, drawing me gingerly into his embrace.
“Those are the sweetest words I’ve ever heard, my brave starfire,” he murmurs against my hair. “I love you most ardently.”
We remain twined in tender silence, his strength pouring into me. Tomorrow, harsh realities will intrude again. But at this moment, we dwell only in shared love and healing; all else held at bay. And for now, it’s enough.
CHAPTER29
Helena
The dayfinally arrives when I can stand on my own and shuffle small distances unassisted. After weeks in bed, even crossing my hospital room to the bathroom alone feels like a monumental victory. Small daily goals mark my gradual mending as strength slowly returns to my devastated body.
The hospital room, with its sterile walls and constant beeps, has become a cage of sorts, but today, it feels a little less confining. The scent of antiseptic is less overpowering, and the soft rustle of the sheets even sounds like music. Everything feels amplified, more vivid, as if my senses are reawakening along with my body.
I stop by the window, relishing the simple pleasure of standing unaided. The sun peeks through sheer curtains, casting a soft glow in the room, bathing everything in a golden light. It’s a welcome respite from the darkness of my recent memories, the pain and fear that have been my constant companions.
A hushed knock on the door startles me, but it’s only Raphael. His hawk-like gaze scans me with concern, mixed with something else—pride, perhaps? He enters, arms overflowing with familiar items from home, a small smile playing on his lips. My heart skips a beat at the sight of him. Raphael, my rock in this storm.
“See anything you like?” he asks, his voice gentle as he sets down a stack of clothing and toiletries.
I flash him a devilish grin, my voice coming out in a hoarse whisper. “You bet I do.” The best part?Raphael actually starts to blush.
I struggle to pick up the tracksuit, groaning as my injuries throb. Each movement is a battle, a painful reminder of my vulnerability. But seeing these precious belongings from home brings a smile to my face. They’re symbols of normalcy, of the life waiting for me beyond these walls.
Raphael steps back, giving me privacy as I attempt to dress myself for the first time since the attack. His eyes never leave me, understanding when my touch might trigger panic and giving me space until my logical mind takes over. His presence is both comforting and unsettling. I know he’s watching over me, but it also reminds me of how much I’ve lost, how dependent I’ve become.
“Take your time, sweetheart,” he assures me. “Reclaiming any bits of self-sufficiency will be entirely helpful.”
I nod tiredly, noting he thoughtfully turns his back, granting me modesty as I struggle with my clumsy limbs. My breath saws unevenly as I squeeze into the pants one-handed. I hiss as agony spikes through the dressing wounds, still mending. But relentless patience prevails inch by inch, reclaiming broken body and psyche both.
Raphael’s unease is unmistakable, even with his back turned. He wrestles with the decision to either come to my rescue or give me the opportunity to regain control and find my footing once more. “You’ve got this, babe,” he finally utters, a mix of encouragement and anxiety in his voice.
“Done,” I manage, breathing hard by the time I finish, arm wrapped around my still-tender ribs. But standing fully clothed and upright infuses me with new steel—I will conquer this recovery, no matter how long and arduous the road.
When Raphael turns back, his eyes shine with pride. “There’s my fierce warrior,” he proclaims, kissing my forehead reverently. “Shall we start slave-driving those poor therapists for your discharge orders?”
I manage a tiny smirk at his teasing. “If they clear me, will you help me torch this hospital gown?” My voice remains reedy from disuse, but gains strength daily. “I want all traces erased as soon as I’m free of this place.”
