The night had never felt so long.

Caleb sat rigidly in the chair beside Elyra’s hospital bed, his fingers wrapped tightly around her cold, fragile hand. His body was stiff from exhaustion, but he refused to rest. His eyes stayed glued to the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of her chest, as if willing her to keep breathing.

After her heart had stopped, he thought he had lost her. The flatline, the chaos, the way she went completely still—it haunted him. Even now, hours later, he couldn’t shake the lingering terror that at any moment, she might slip away again.

The heart monitor beeped steadily beside her, but each sound felt like a ticking clock, counting down the little time she had left.

She had survived, but barely.

Caleb exhaled shakily and wiped a hand over his face.

He couldn’t lose her.

Not now. Not ever.

His throat tightened as he looked at her pale face. The oxygen mask covered most of it, but he could still see the exhaustion in her closed eyes, the way her body seemed almost too small under the hospital blankets.

"Elyra," he whispered, his voice breaking.

No response.

The only answer was the soft hum of the machines keeping her alive.

Caleb clenched his jaw, holding back the emotions threatening to consume him. He wanted to believe she would wake up. That she would pull through, just like she always had. But deep down, a gnawing fear told him that time was running out.

He let out a shaky breath and lowered his head, pressing his forehead against their intertwined hands.

For the first time in years, he prayed.

"Please," he whispered hoarsely, his fingers tightening around hers. "Please, just give me more time. Just a little more."

His vision blurred with unshed tears.

He had spent so long hating her.

Blaming her.

And now, when he had finally opened his eyes to the truth, fate was tearing her away.

It wasn’t fair.

None of it was fair.

"Caleb."

His head shot up.

Elyra’s voice was barely audible, just a whisper against the steady beeping of the machines. But it was there.

She was awake.

Caleb surged forward, gripping her hand tighter. "Elyra! Hey, I’m right here."

Her eyelashes fluttered weakly as her gaze met his, hazy and tired. Her lips parted, but she struggled to speak.

"Don’t," Caleb choked out, shaking his head. "You don’t have to say anything. Just rest, okay?"

A ghost of a smile tugged at her lips. "Still… bossy."

A broken laugh escaped him, tears spilling down his cheeks. "And you’re still stubborn," he whispered.

She tried to lift her hand, but it barely moved. Caleb immediately helped her, gently brushing his fingers over her knuckles.

"You scared me," he admitted, his voice raw. "I thought I lost you, Elyra. I—" His throat closed up. "I can’t lose you."

Elyra’s expression softened, but behind the exhaustion, there was something else.

Acceptance.

She knew her fate.

"Caleb," she murmured, barely above a breath. "It’s okay."

His heart clenched. "No, it’s not."

She tried to smile again, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

"I’m… tired," she whispered.

Caleb swallowed hard. He could see it—the way her body was failing her, the way even breathing seemed to take so much effort.

But he wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

Not yet.

"Just hold on," he pleaded. "Please, just a little longer."

Elyra stared at him for a long moment before squeezing his hand—so faint he almost didn’t feel it.

Then she closed her eyes again.

Caleb’s chest ached as he watched her slip back into unconsciousness.

He sat there for hours, his grip never loosening, his heart heavy with the crushing weight of helplessness.

Then, for the first time in days, something changed.

The machines beside her let out a different kind of beep—a stronger one.

Caleb sat up straight, his heart pounding.

A nurse entered the room, checking the monitors. She frowned, then checked again.

"Her vitals are stabilizing," she murmured in disbelief.

Caleb’s breath caught.

"What?"

The nurse looked at him, a small flicker of hope in her expression. "She’s still weak, but… she’s holding on."

Caleb swallowed, his eyes burning with fresh tears.

He looked back at Elyra, his heart swelling with something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a long time.

Hope.

Maybe, just maybe, he still had time. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- To Be Continued...