It had been forty-eight agonizing hours.
Euan sat slumped beside Andrew's hospital bed, his head resting on the edge of the mattress. His fingers, cold and trembling, clung gently to Andrew's still hand, the rhythmic beeping of the machines the only sound in the sterile ICU room. Exhaustion had long taken root, his body aching from the sleepless nights, but Euan refused to leave his side. His heart silently prayed for any sign of life.
Suddenly, he felt it—a faint twitch. Andrew's fingers stirred ever so slightly.
Euan's heart skipped a beat. His eyes widened in disbelief as he snapped his head up, his gaze locked on Andrew's hand. It twitched again.
"Andrew?" Euan whispered, his voice trembling with a mix of hope and fear.
Without hesitation, Euan shot up from his chair, his legs shaky from hours of sitting still. His pulse quickened, and his breath hitched as he bolted toward the door. "Doctor! Doctor!" he called, his voice a wild mix of panic and excitement. It echoed down the hallway as he frantically waved toward the room. "He's waking up!"
Outside, James had been dozing on a cold steel bench, his body stiff from the uncomfortable position. Euan's voice shattered his slumber, and for a moment, confusion clouded his mind. But as the words sunk in—Andrew was waking up—James surged to his feet, his heart pounding in his chest. Without a second thought, he sprinted toward the ICU, urgency driving his every step.
Inside the room, nurses rushed past James as he entered, and the doctor was already by Andrew's side. They worked quickly, examining him, murmuring to one another while checking his vitals. James stood frozen in the doorway, his breath caught in his throat as he saw Andrew's eyelids flutter. Slowly, his consciousness was returning.
Euan, still standing by the bed, couldn't stop trembling. His eyes, raw and red from endless tears, filled once more. Each tiny movement Andrew made felt like a miracle.
***
Andrew had been moved to a private room, where he lay, still weak from both the accident and the operation. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, though traces of exhaustion marked his face—faint lines of fatigue drawn across his features. Euan sat by his side, gently wiping Andrew's hands and arms with a warm towel, his touch tender, almost reverent. Every motion was filled with care, as though he feared breaking the fragile peace.
As Euan continued, Andrew stirred. His eyelids fluttered and, after a long moment, slowly opened. The world around him was blurry, a haze born from unconsciousness. His head throbbed faintly—a dull, manageable ache left over from the surgery. As his vision cleared, the first thing he saw was Euan's face, hovering close to him, a mixture of worry and relief written across it.
A weak smile tugged at Andrew's lips, though it lacked the strength to fully express the emotions surging within him. Despite the pain, despite everything, seeing Euan by his side brought him an undeniable sense of peace.
"Andrew," Euan whispered, his voice thick with emotion. Tears welled in his eyes and spilled down his cheeks. His body shook, overwhelmed by the relief that washed over him. "You're awake..."
Andrew's heart ached at the sight of Euan's tears. With great effort, he lifted his hand—slow, shaky—and reached out, his fingers brushing softly against Euan's cheek, wiping away the tears. His touch was light, but it was enough to convey the comfort he wished to offer.
"Hmmm," Andrew murmured, his voice weak, almost a whisper. He fought to regain his strength.
"I'm so sorry, Andrew," Euan choked out, his hand gently clasping Andrew's, resting it against his cheek. The weight of guilt, of regret, soaked his words as though he blamed himself for everything.
Andrew didn't speak, only gave him a weak smile. His eyes, heavy with exhaustion, spoke volumes—gratitude, forgiveness, and a quiet understanding. Words weren't necessary in that moment. Their bond, the connection between them, was enough.
Just then, the door swung open, and a familiar voice broke through the stillness. "Andrew!"
It was the vice chairman, his voice sharp yet controlled.
Startled, Euan quickly stepped aside, making way for the man. The air in the room shifted instantly—tension thickened, heavy with unspoken judgment, as the vice chairman approached the bed.
"Are you feeling alright now?" The vice chairman's tone was neutral—neither warm nor cold, just businesslike.
Andrew gave a faint nod, too weak to do anything more. The vice chairman's gaze shifted to Euan, narrowing slightly, his eyes hard with barely concealed disapproval.
"You see what happens when you insist on defying orders? Why can't you just listen to Andrew when he says no?" The vice chairman's voice was sharp, his words cutting through the air like a blade. His cold gaze landed squarely on Euan, brimming with disdain. "If it weren't for Andrew, I wouldn't even consider accepting this relationship between you two."
Euan's shoulders hunched, his head dropping low as shame washed over him. His fingers trembled, fidgeting as though searching for something to hold onto. "I'm sorry, Father," he whispered, his voice cracking, betraying the tears he fought so hard to hold back.
Andrew, despite the weakness evident in his frame, straightened slightly, his voice soft but unwavering. "Don't blame him," he said, his tone calm yet firm, a quiet defiance in his words. It wasn't a request—it was a statement of resolve.
The vice chairman's jaw clenched, his expression darkening with a mix of anger and frustration. "You've coddled him too much, Andrew. That's why he's like this—always a burden. Isn't that right? He's nothing but a constant weight, dragging everyone down!" His voice rose, laced with venom, leaving the room thick with tension.
Euan flinched, the words striking deep, each one like a lash across his soul. The pain in his eyes was palpable, but he remained silent, his apology lingering unspoken on his trembling lips.
Before Andrew could respond, Secretary Choi, who had followed the vice chairman in, stepped forward, his voice a low whisper to the elder. He urged him to remain calm.
With a frustrated sigh, the vice chairman ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. "You don't understand what this has cost us. We were supposed to go to Korea soon."
Euan's heart tightened at the mention of Korea—Andrew hadn't said anything about plans to go there. But now wasn't the time to question him about it. There were more urgent matters at hand, and Euan couldn't afford to let his emotions take over. His focus had to remain on taking care of Andrew.
"I have to leave for Korea in three days," the vice chairman said, his tone regaining its usual commanding sharpness. "I'll handle things with your grandfather. Stay here and rest. Once you've recovered enough, follow me immediately. You know how the chairman is."
With that, the vice chairman turned and left, the room still thick with unspoken tension. Euan remained by the side, his heart heavy, torn between relief, guilt.
Euan, curious yet hesitant, often struggled to bring up the topic of Andrew's work or delve deeper into his life. The very thought of the Vice Chairman sent a chill down his spine. Though the Vice Chairman occasionally visited the villa, his disdain for Euan was clear, tolerating him only because of Andrew.
Whenever Euan tried to learn more about Andrew's family or the people in his world—besides James, his father, and Secretary Choi—Andrew would skillfully deflect. With a warm, disarming smile that seemed so effortless, Andrew would steer the conversation elsewhere, leaving Euan's questions unanswered, hanging uncomfortably in the air.
Euan wanted to believe that the simple life he shared with Andrew was enough. That Andrew's warmth, affection, and everything they had together were all he needed. But deep down, an unsettling feeling gnawed at him. Andrew was hiding something—or protecting something—and no matter how close they were, Euan couldn't escape the sense that he would never fully know Andrew.
It felt like he was standing outside a door Andrew refused to open. No matter how much he longed to step through, Andrew always kept him just out of reach.
The story doesn't end here...
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