Help

Chapter 27 

Bruno’s POV

My eyes never left Martina’s face throughout the drive.

I couldn’t stop staring at her.

Even like this—with her head resting against the seat and her breathing slow and uneven—she was still as beautiful as ever. There was a calmness on her face I hadn’t seen in a long time.

For a moment, it felt like I had gone back five years… back to when everything between us was still okay.

Back to when she still smiled at me.

The last five years had been nothing short of hell.

Living without her wasn’t living at all. It was just surviving… dragging myself through each day while pretending everything was fine.

I had missed her more than words could explain.

Every single day.

Every single night.

There were times I almost gave in—moments when I wanted to go back to her, to tell her everything… to explain the truth. But every time, I stopped myself.

I couldn’t let her carry the burden of my illness on top of her mother’s.

Especially when I might not even survive it.

I couldn’t make her watch me slowly die.

So I chose the only option I thought I had… I broke up with her.

I hurt her so she wouldn’t have to suffer later.

But now… seeing her like this, knowing everything she had gone through without me…

I wasn’t even sure I made the right decision anymore.

Maybe I was just a coward.

Now, all I could do was accept the consequences.

Her hatred.

Her coldness.

Her distance.

I deserved it.

“We’re here already.”

Jeffery’s voice cut through my thoughts.

I blinked and looked around.

The car had stopped in front of Martina’s apartment.

I hadn’t even noticed when we arrived.

Letting out a quiet breath, I turned to her.

“Martina…” I called softly, gently shaking her shoulder.

No response.

She was completely out.

“She won’t wake up,” Jeffery said. “Just carry her inside.”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

I stepped out of the car and moved to her side. Jeffery opened the door, and I carefully leaned in, lifting her into my arms.

She was light.

Too light.

Something tightened painfully in my chest.

She used to complain whenever I teased her about dieting too much. Back then, she was full of life… full of energy.

Now, she felt fragile.

I adjusted her in my arms and walked toward the door, Jeffery following behind me.

I knocked.

The door opened almost immediately.

A woman in her early forties stood there. She looked tired but alert—like someone who had been anxiously waiting.

“Martina, you’re ba—”

Her words stopped the moment she saw me.

Her gaze dropped to Martina in my arms, and her expression instantly turned to worry.

“Who are you? What happened to her?”

“I… I’m a friend,” I replied. “She drank too much and passed out, so I brought her home.”

She hesitated for a second, then stepped aside.

“Oh… okay. Come in. Her room is at the corner on the left.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

I walked in, my eyes briefly scanning the apartment.

It was small.

Simple.

A two-bedroom space, not fully furnished, but clean and carefully arranged.

Everything looked… managed.

Like someone was doing their best with very little.

This was her life now.

For a moment, I just stood there.

She’s been carrying all of this alone.

Pushing the thought aside, I walked into her room and gently placed her on the bed.

She stirred slightly but didn’t wake up.

I pulled the duvet over her and paused, just looking at her.

Even in her sleep, there were faint signs of stress on her face.

It hurt to see.

“I’m sorry…” I whispered.

She didn’t hear me.

After a few seconds, I turned and walked out.

The woman was waiting in the living room.

“Thank you for bringing her home,” she said.

“It’s nothing.”

She hesitated before speaking again.

“I was actually waiting for her before leaving. Her mother hasn’t been stable all day, so I couldn’t leave her alone.”

I froze.

“What?”

“She’s stable for now,” she added quickly.

“For now?” I repeated.

She nodded, her expression serious.

“She’s out of her medication. The cheaper ones we’ve been using to manage her condition aren’t working anymore.”

It felt like the air had been knocked out of me.

This was worse than I thought.

Martina wasn’t just struggling financially.

She was taking care of her sick mother… alone.

For five years.

Working, paying bills, surviving… all by herself.

I swallowed hard.

“How is she now?” I asked quietly.

“She’s resting. But she needs proper medication as soon as possible.”

I nodded slowly.

“I see.”

A brief silence followed.

“I’m sorry, but… who are you to her?” I asked.

“I’m her mother’s caregiver.”

That explained it.

I took a deep breath.

“About the medication… I’ll take care of it.”

She blinked in surprise. “Really?”

“Yes. I’ll cover the cost of the drugs… and any other medical expenses.”

Relief flashed across her face.

“That would help a lot…”

“But,” I added.

She looked at me.

“Please don’t tell Martina I paid for anything. And what happened tonight… I don’t want her to know I brought her home.”

She frowned slightly.

“But—”

“Please,” I said gently.

She studied me for a moment, trying to understand.

Then she sighed.

“Alright. I won’t tell her.”

“Thank you.”

After settling the details and making the payment, I said my goodbyes and stepped outside.

The cool night air hit my face.

I walked back to the car slowly, my chest heavy.

Life was cruel.

The woman I loved… the woman I left to protect…

was suffering more than I ever imagined.

And I wasn’t there when she needed me the most.

I leaned back against the seat and closed my eyes briefly.

I remembered her mother.

She had always been kind to me.

Warm. Welcoming.

She treated me like her own son.

The thought of her being sick… struggling like this…

It twisted something deep inside me.

“I hope she’ll be okay…” I muttered under my breath.

“Can we go now?” Jeffery's voice came from beside me.

I opened my eyes and looked at him.

He had been quiet the entire time.

“Yes.”I said, "Let's go.”

He started the car, and we drove off.

As the apartment faded from view, I stared out the window, my mind set.

This wasn’t over.

Not for me.

Not for Martina.

Even if she hated me…

Even if she never wanted to see me again…

I wouldn’t stand by and watch her suffer.

Not anymore.

This time…

I would help her.

Even if I had to do it from the shadows.