Novel-novel oleh C.E. LITO

Five years later “I’m sorry to say this, Miss Amelia… but your son is dying.”The words cut through the air so sharply I almost didn’t hear them right.For a moment, I just stared at the doctor, waiting for him to take it back — to say it was a mistake, a mix-up, anything. My throat burned as I forced out a weak, trembling laugh.“D-doctor, that cannot be Noah’s results. I mean… it might be for someone else, but not Noah’s. He only has a wound that’s not healing fast.”“Miss Amelia—”“Please, tell me you’re joking,” I interrupted, my voice rising.But he didn’t. He just stood there, his face solemn, hands folded like a man who’d said these words too many times before.Something in me broke. He wasn’t joking. Nobody jokes about things like this.My stomach dropped. My chest tightened so hard it hurt to breathe. The white walls around me blurred, too bright, too calm, as if mocking how fast my world was falling apart.“What—what do you mean dying?” My voice came out small, almost child

A week later, I could already walk on my own, and I was going to Liam’s ward — this time without asking for permission from the doctors or the nurses.I’d had enough of resting. Enough of being told to “focus on recovery.” My husband was still in a hospital bed, and I needed to see him.I walked down the hallway, ignoring the nurse’s calls to bring me back to my room. My legs trembled slightly, but I didn’t stop. I was going to see Liam, whether they wanted to let me or not.“Look who’s here,” a familiar, disgusting voice drawled from behind me.I froze. My fingers tightened around the small bouquet I’d bought from the hospital gift shop that morning — white lilies, Liam’s favorite.Turning slowly, I met the last face I wanted to see again.Eleanor.But this time, she wasn’t alone.Beside her stood a woman who looked like she’d stepped straight out of a magazine — tall, glossy brunette hair cascading over a cream coat, diamond earrings that could feed a family for a year, and a perfec

The door creaked open, and in walked the last person I wanted to see.Eleanor Sinclair.Her heels clicked sharply against the tiled floor, echoing louder than the steady beeps of the monitors keeping Liam alive. Even in the chaos of the hospital, she looked like she was walking into a boardroom — poised, controlled, terrifying.I straightened in my bed, my voice rasping. “What are you doing here?”She walked closer and without a second thought, her palms hit my face, harsh and hard, the sting added to the pain that was already coursing through my body.“I should be asking you that,” she said coolly, shaking her wrist like she was the pained one, her gaze sliding from my IV line to Liam’s still body. “Haven’t you done enough?”My breath caught. “Excuse me? Why did you slap me?" I asked, my eyes red with fury.“You heard me.” Her tone was calm, but there was venom in every word. “You’ve already ruined his life once. The least you could do is not hang over his bed like some guilty ghost.

“They’ve lost a lot of blood—too much! They’re dying!”The voice came from somewhere above me — frantic, urgent — but it sounded distant, like it was echoing underwater.I blinked against the blinding hospital lights, my vision swimming in and out of focus. Pain burned through every inch of my body, sharp and alive, but the only thought in my head was him.Liam.“Where’s my husband?” I rasped, my voice cracking as tears slipped from the corners of my eyes. “Where—where’s Liam?”No one answered. The doctors were shouting to each other, their voices overlapping — “BP’s dropping!” “We’re losing her!” “Get more O negative!” — but none of it made sense. None of it mattered.I tried to lift my head, but a hand pressed down on my shoulder. “Ma’am, please stay still,” a nurse said, her face a blur behind the surgical mask.“No,” I croaked, struggling against the straps. “My husband—he was with me—he’s hurt—please, I need to see him—”A sharp sting pierced my arm, and the world tilted again. M

“I love you, Amelia. Today, tomorrow, and for the rest of my life.”He said it so simply, like it was the most natural thing in the world.The kind of words you don’t need to think about — you just feel them.The city lights flashed against Liam’s face as we drove through the streets. His hand rested on the steering wheel, the other loosely wrapped around mine, thumb brushing my skin in slow, absent circles.I smiled, my heart swelling with that familiar ache that only came when I looked at him too long.“You’ve been saying that for three years straight,” I teased softly.“Because it’s still true,” he murmured, eyes flicking to me before turning back to the road. “And it’ll be true for the next fifty, or even hundred,"I rolled my eyes, pretending to be unimpressed, though the corners of my lips betrayed me. “Fifty, huh? That’s a lot of patience, Mr. Sinclair.”“For you?” His mouth curved. “It’s not nearly enough.”I couldn’t stop smiling. My cheeks hurt, but I didn’t care. It was our