Sarah was sitting in her room, thinking about Damien. She hadn't seen him for a week, and her texts had gone unanswered. She worried, a knot of anxiety tightening in her stomach. Is he okay? Did something happen to him? During his absence, she was gradually learning how to walk again. Her leg seemed to be getting better, but she still felt a lot of pain.
Chloe and Caroline had come to the hospital a few times but were denied access. Following Damien's instructions, the doctor explained that due to Sarah's fragile mental state, he felt the need to minimize any potential stress that might hinder her recovery. Chloe and Caroline, pretending to be understanding, agreed.
Damien, now back at the manor, tried his best to be civil around Penelope, all an act to please his grandfather. Don seemed overjoyed by his effort. Meanwhile, Damien's thoughts were consumed by Sarah, wondering how she was doing. He saw her text asking if he was alright, but he was so focused on his grandfather's recovery that he never replied. Now, a wave of guilt washed over him.
He found himself walking the sterile corridors of the hospital, a knot of anxiety tightening in his stomach. He needed to see Sarah, to reassure himself that she was alright. A question lingered in his mind: What if she remembers? If she finds her past, will she still need me? The thought was a bittersweet mix of hope and a strange sense of loss. He remembered the feel of her skin beneath his lips, the way her eyes had looked at him. He knew he was doing something he had never done before: he was fighting for a woman who didn't even know herself.
He paused outside her door, taking a deep breath before pushing it open.
Sarah was sitting on the edge of the bed, her injured leg stretched out. She was trying to stand, her face etched with concentration and a flicker of pain. She wobbled precariously, her hand reaching for a nearby chair for support.
"Sarah," Damien said softly, his voice filled with concern.
She turned, her eyes widening as she saw him. A small, hesitant smile touched her lips. "Damien," she whispered.
He rushed to her side, instinctively reaching out to steady her. "Careful," he said gently. "You don't want to overdo it."
Sarah took a tentative step, then another. Her face was flushed with effort, but a flicker of determination shone in her eyes. "I… I want to try," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "I need to… to walk again."
Damien watched her, his heart aching with a mixture of admiration and concern. He knew how important this was for her, how desperate she was to regain some semblance of normalcy.
"Let me help you," he said, gently placing his arm around her waist for support.
Together, they took a few steps, Sarah leaning heavily on Damien, her injured leg dragging slightly. She stumbled, her breath catching in her throat.
"It's okay," Damien murmured, tightening his grip on her. "Just take it slow."
They continued, a silent, rhythmic dance of trust and support. With each small step, a tiny spark of triumph flickered in her eyes. After a few minutes, Sarah stopped, her breathing ragged. "I… I need to rest," she said, her voice weak.
Damien helped her back to the bed, gently easing her down. He sat beside her, his gaze filled with concern.
"You're doing great, Sarah," he said softly. "Just take it one step at a time."
Sarah looked at him, her eyes filled with a profound sadness. "I… I feel so lost," she whispered. "I still don't remember anything, and my leg isn't getting better no matter how hard I try."
Damien reached out and took her hand, his touch gentle and reassuring. "I know," he said softly. "But you're not alone, Sarah. I'll be here for you, as long as you need me."
She gently touched his cheek. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible... "But you don't have to come often, I know you're busy..." He knew why she was saying that, after all they haven't seen each other for a week and he forgot to reply to her messages... "Sarah, I'm sorry..." She could feel the regret in his voice... Then she said "It's okay, I'm just happy that you're fine. I was scared something happened to you. I was scared I'll never see you again." Tears fell down her face.
Before Damien could respond, Sarah leaned forward and he instinctively met her halfway. She hugged him firmly and rested her head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. The simple, comforting hug spoke volumes. In that moment, surrounded by the sterile quiet of the hospital room, a fragile trust bloomed between them, a silent promise to face the unknown together.
After the hug, she pulled back. "Where have you been? I was so worried. I texted and called, but you never replied."
Damien cupped her cheek. "I'm sorry. My grandfather had a surgery. I had to take care of him."
Sarah's face softened with concern. "He had a surgery? Is he okay now?"
Damien smiled faintly. "He's better now. He's my only family left."
He then found himself telling her about his past, his strained relationship with his grandfather, and the burden of his grandfather's expectations. Sarah was the first person he had shared his pain with, and that vulnerability was a testament to his trust in her. The hours passed without them even noticing. They talked and then listened to each other's heartbeat in silence, and in that fleeting moment, they held onto each other like a lifeline.
Damien eventually stood to leave. "I have to go now. Remember to be a good girl and focus on your recovery." He gently smiled. "I have something to do so I probably won't be able to visit you in a while, but when everything's settled, I'll come to find you." He kissed her cheek.
"Damien… I'll wait for you to come back," she said, her voice full of quiet certainty.
He left with an unexplainable sadness in his heart, and Sarah stayed there, smiling warmly.