The sterile smell of antiseptic stung Rose's nose as she sat in the cold, uncomfortable chair beside Dimitri's hospital bed. The rhythmic beeping of the machines filled the room, each beat a reminder of the delicate balance between life and death. Tubes snaked from Dimitri's body, connecting him to machines that kept him stable, alive—but unconscious.
It had been hours since the surgery. The doctors had said he would be okay, that they'd managed to stop the bleeding and repair the damage, but he hadn't woken up yet. They couldn't tell her when he would.
Rose didn't move from her spot, though exhaustion weighed heavy on her bones. Her eyes felt raw from crying, but the tears had dried hours ago. Now there was only the hollow ache in her chest, a void of fear and guilt. She hadn't left his side since they wheeled him out of surgery, despite the nurses' suggestions that she rest, eat, or even just take a walk. She couldn't. She wouldn't.
Her hand hovered above his for a moment before she gently took it in hers, afraid to hurt him but needing to feel the warmth of his skin against her own. His hand, always so strong and capable, was limp in her grasp. The sight of him like this, so vulnerable, broke something deep inside her.
"I'm so sorry, Dimitri," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the machines. "I should have listened. I should have let you explain."
But she hadn't. She'd let her anger take over, jumped to conclusions, and stormed off before he could tell her the truth. And now he was lying here, unconscious, because she had gotten it all wrong.
Her mind flashed back to the chaos of the previous day – the look in his eyes as he fell, the way his blood coated her hands as she tried desperately to stop it, the sheer panic as she called for an ambulance.
The doctors had told her they were able to save his life, but she couldn't help but worry. What if he never woke up? What if she never got to see his half-smile or the softness in his eyes when he looked at her? What if this was it?
A few hours later, the door to the room creaked open softly, and Rose wiped her face quickly, trying to compose herself as whoever it was entered the room. Looking towards the door, Rose recognised Olena and Yeva, Dimitri's mother and grandmother.
Olena was at Dimitri's side in an instant, gently touching his face. "Oh, my boy," she whispered, her voice cracking with a mixture of relief and heartache. She looked over at Rose and offered a trembling smile. "Thank you... for being here with him."
Rose shook her head, unable to find the words. She wasn't the one who needed thanks. If anything, she needed to apologize—for all of it.
"It's my fault he's here," she sighed.
Olena's eyebrows drew together, though her eyes were kind. "I highly doubt that."
As Olena sat down beside Rose, her eyes filled with worry, she reached out to gently take Rose's hand. The warmth of her touch was grounding, but Rose could see the question burning in her eyes—the need for answers. Olena had always been a steady presence, a woman who exuded quiet strength, and right now, Rose needed that strength to hold herself together.
"Rose..." Olena began, her voice soft but probing. "I need to know what happened. Dimitri's not been right for a while. How did this... how did Dimitri end up like this?"
Rose swallowed hard, her heart tightening in her chest as the events of the past few months rushed back into her mind like a tidal wave. The anger, the fear, the chaos, the fight—it all came back, vivid and raw. She wasn't sure if she could say it aloud, but Olena's gentle presence gave her the courage to begin.
"Dimitri and I had ended things. We weren't – we were never really together, not officially," Rose confessed, her secret confusing Olena further. "Dimitri told me he only had casual relationships, since everything that happened with Tasha."
Olena frowned shook her head. "That boy..." she sighed, while Yeva grumbled something from where she sat on the other side of Dimitri's hospital room.
Rose continued.
"I wanted more, and we broke up, I guess, unofficially," she explained. "Then Tasha reappeared. I thought – I thought they were back together. She had a ring... I was angry that Dimitri would go back to her, but I kept my distance, thinking he could handle it himself. I realise now that – I was wrong. He wasn't with her, she was just... delusional."
She glanced over at Dimitri, still lying unconscious, before returning her gaze to his mother.
"Tasha came to my house. Broke in," she continued, Olena letting the young woman tell her everything – it was clear she needed to get it all off her chest. "She was angry. Frantic. She thought she could just walk back into his life, like nothing had happened, like she hadn't destroyed him once before. She was furious that Dimitri cared about me... that he didn't want her."
Olena's brow furrowed, her lips tightening into a thin line, but she remained silent, letting Rose continue.
"She had a knife."
Olena's eyes widened in horror, but she still didn't interrupt.
"I tried to stand up to her," Rose continued, her voice cracking with the weight of everything. "But she wouldn't listen. She said awful things. She... she threatened me, said Dimitri was hers and that I was nothing. I didn't know what to do," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "And then Dimitri showed up."
Olena closed her eyes for a moment, as if bracing herself for what was to come.
"He tried to reason with her, to calm her down," Rose said, her voice steadying slightly. "But she was too far gone. She wouldn't listen to him. She kept screaming, saying that he didn't really love me, that he was just confused. And then... then everything happened so fast."
Rose's eyes welled up with fresh tears, her voice breaking as she continued. "We fought. Dimitri tried to pull her away, and I... I don't even know how it happened, but at some point, she—she stabbed him."
Olena gasped softly, her hand covering her mouth as she stared at Rose in disbelief.
"I tried to stop the bleeding," Rose said, her voice trembling again. "But there was so much blood, and I... I couldn't. I called an ambulance, I called the cops, but I—I didn't know if he would make it. I was so scared, Olena."
Tears finally slipped down Rose's cheeks, and Olena, without hesitation, pulled her into a tight embrace. Rose sank into her arms, her body shaking as she cried into the older woman's shoulder. It felt natural, warm. Olena held her, stroking her hair, her own tears glistening in her eyes.
"You saved him, Rose," Olena whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "You saved my son."
Rose shook her head, still overwhelmed with guilt. "I didn't... I couldn't stop her."
"You're the reason he's still here. You were brave, Rose."
Rose looked down, her hands twisting in her lap. "I just... I couldn't lose him. Not with the way things were between us."
"You won't lose him," Olena said firmly, squeezing her hand. "Dimitri is strong. He'll fight to come back to you. He cares about you, Rose. I saw that the first time I met you. I could see it in his eyes, in the way he talks about you. Casual? That's rubbish."
Rose's heart clenched at Olena's words, her tears slowing as she took a shaky breath. She looked over at Dimitri's still form, the beeping of the monitors the only indication that he was still with them.
"I know I'm right," Olena said, her voice filled with certainty.
Yeva spoke suddenly, her eyes locked on her grandson. "Он сильный, но может быть глупым. Он не видит добра. Все будет хорошо, но путь еще не ясен."
Rose looked at Olena, in search of a translation. Olena smiled.
"She said that Dimitri is strong but sometimes stupid. He doesn't see the good," she explained. "She said that everything will work out, but the path is not yet clear."
Rose shivered. Yeva had always unnerved her, but there was a strange comfort in her words now. The old woman had a way of seeing things no one else could, and for once, Rose wanted to believe her.
The next day, Dimitri's condition still hadn't changed. Rose hadn't left his side, surviving on vending machine snacks and light sleep as she curled up on the chair beside his bed.
The door to Dimitri's hospital room opened, waking Rose from the light sleep she had fallen into. She sat up, turning to the door, expecting to see a nurse coming to do more checks. Instead, she was surprised to find Ivan standing in the doorway. His face was drawn, worry etched into every line, but when he saw her, he gave her a small, weary smile.
"Hey," he said softly, stepping into the room and pulling a chair over beside her. "How's he doing?"
Rose shook her head, her throat too tight to answer. Ivan sighed, glancing at Dimitri before turning back to her.
"He's tough. You know that. He's going to pull through," Ivan said, though his voice carried the weight of his own fears. "You should try to get some rest, Rose. You've been here for days."
"I slept," Rose whispered, her voice cracking with exhaustion.
"On that chair? Barely," Ivan said. "You should go home, get some real sleep. I'll stay with him."
Rose shook her head. "I can't leave him. Not until I know he's okay."
Ivan nodded, understanding. He glanced at Dimitri, his best friend, lying so still in the bed, and his jaw tightened. "I can't believe Tasha would go this far."
Rose flinched at the mention of Tasha, memories of the confrontation flooding back. "She was insane, Ivan. And I know she's in custody, but—" her voice broke. "What if she comes back? What if she tries to get to him again? He needs her out of his life for good."
Ivan leaned forward, placing a hand on her shoulder. "She won't. She's done, Rose. She'll never get near him again. The cops will make sure of that."
Rose nodded, though her heart still raced with the fear of what might have happened if Dimitri hadn't come when he did. Or if the knife had struck him just a little deeper.
Ivan stayed with her for a while, talking quietly about anything and everything to keep her distracted. He told her stories about him and Dimitri, about the trouble they used to get into. Despite the grim situation, Rose found herself smiling at the thought of a younger, more carefree Dimitri.
Eventually, Ivan stood up, patting her shoulder gently. "I'll be back tomorrow. Try to rest, okay? He needs you strong when he wakes up."
After Ivan left, the room fell into silence again. Rose's eyes drifted back to Dimitri, her heart heavy but a flicker of hope stirring deep inside. The room remained still, the beeping of the heart monitor the only sound to fill the quiet void. Dimitri's chest rose and fell steadily, but he remained unconscious. Rose closed her eyes, exhaustion pulling at her. She leaned forward in the chair, resting her forehead against the side of the bed, taking his hand in hers.
Her body demanded sleep. She fought against it, but the weight of the past few days—the adrenaline, the fear, the guilt—was too much. Her eyes fluttered closed, her grip on his hand loosening slightly as she drifted into a restless sleep.
The sound of movement startled Rose awake.
Her eyes shot open, disoriented for a moment as she sat up abruptly. Her heart pounded in her chest as she looked around, her mind scrambling to remember where she was. The hospital room came back into focus, and she quickly turned her attention to Dimitri, her heart skipping a beat when she noticed his fingers twitching slightly beneath hers.
"Dimitri?" Rose's voice was soft but urgent as she sat up straighter, her eyes wide as she watched for any further signs of movement.
His face remained still, but his fingers twitched again. Her heart leapt. "Dimitri, can you hear me?" she whispered, her voice trembling with hope.
Slowly, so slowly it almost felt like an eternity, his eyelids began to flutter. Rose's breath caught in her throat as she leaned closer, barely daring to believe what she was seeing.
Then, finally, his eyes cracked open, blinking against the harsh hospital lights. Dimitri's gaze was unfocused at first, his face pale and etched with pain, but his eyes found hers eventually, and the faintest hint of recognition flickered across his face.
"Roza..." His voice was barely a rasp, hoarse and weak, but it was the sweetest sound Rose had ever heard.