Page 56 of His Beloved Princess
“Because I respect him,” I answered, playing with the hem of the blanket. “He feels responsible for you and obligated to help you. Believe me, I don’t like it at all, but I’ll accept it if you play by the rules.”
“What exactly are the rules? Call you to allow him to visit me?” she mocked as she approached the bed. Her face was a blank mask, but her eyes told a different story. She was confused.
“Bastian doesn’t need my permission, Rosalind,” I retorted, slightly annoyed. “My point is that you have the attention and support of the taken man. And I have every right to know what is happening between you two.”
"You’re a fucking masochist,” she groaned, shaking her head. “Why don’t you demand the termination of our contract?”
“Because he cares for you,” I replied matter-of-factly, watching her coming even closer, towering over me on the bed. “I won’t ask for something he can’t give me.”
“This is the worst idea ever,” she mumbled, chewing her bottom lip and probably thinking about my suggestion. I tried to ignore my quivering stomach and direct my thoughts elsewhere, but all that was on my mind was Bastian.
My first instinct when I ran away from his apartment was to end things with him. I was heartbroken. But after the conversation with Grandma and everything that happened since then, I realized I couldn’t throw the past few months out the window.
Bastian showed me another life, another me. He made me feel desired and loved. Those were all new feelings for me. He introduced me to things I would have never guessed I would be into.
He was the man who woke me from a long slumber; he brought me back to life. It wasn’t only about sex—it was about everything. He pushed me to my limits. He helped me accept myself the way I was and opened my eyes to the new possibilities. I began to believe in love, intimacy, and connection again. And I knew I couldn’t be this woman without him by my side.
We belonged together.
The mere thought of losing him because of her or because of our accident was paralyzing me. I was prepared to do anything in my power to get him back.
“Fine,” Rose whispered, waking me up from my reverie. Her voice was soaked with doubt. “I’ll agree to this, but only because he loves you. And I would never stand in the way of his happiness. Choosing between us would break his heart.”
“Thank you,” I said sincerely, releasing a deep breath. I felt relieved that she agreed. She obviously knew Bastian too well to know he wouldn’t back down from his commitment.
Before Rose could reply or at least roll her eyes at me, my best friend Zoe burst through the door.
“Oh, my God,” she squealed, running to me with open arms. “You’re alive.” She squeezed me in her embrace tightly, and the familiar scent of her vanilla perfume hit my nose.
“I’m okay,” I breathed, tears falling down my cheeks. I noticed Rose leaving the room out of the corner of my eye. I wasn’t glad for the interruption, yet perhaps it was for the best. We were all in the wrong frame of mind to deal with anything else. Bastian was our main interest. Because if he didn’t get out of the hospital bed, all of this was for naught.
28
Still Alive
Electra
Iwasn't okay, and as much as I tried to persuade my best friend about it, she didn't believe me for one second. It didn't take her long to break through, and I ended up crying like a hysterical baby. Sobs almost tore me apart. The breath stuck in my throat, my chest tightened, and the oxygen couldn't find its way into my lungs. I was having a real panic attack.
However, Zoe knew how to guide me through it without the help of doctors, nurses, and their magical drugs. She managed to calm me down, even when it was challenging. She held me in her arms, whispering soothing words into my ear while brushing my hair, but she couldn't chase away the anxiety in my stomach.
Fear for Bastian was eating my soul like a bunch of starving bugs. Worries and catastrophic scenarios were wrapped around my almost collapsing heart, supporting my edginess to the point of no return. The tremble of my body intensified every time I thought about his life being in danger.
I couldn't stop thinking about his pale face, the bruises on his torso from when paramedics cut his shirt, or the high-pitched sound that resonated through the forest when his heart stopped. It was the most frightening thing in my entire life—witnessing someone I loved fighting for his life.
"Breathe, Electra. You'll get through this," Zoe said gently, loosening her tight grip on me.
"What if he d-dies?" I sobbed, pushing my head up from her lap. Wiping my wet cheeks with my shaking hands, I connected my puffy eyes with her concerned ones.
"Don't think like that." She shook her head, giving me an encouraging look. "He is a fighter. You must believe he will win."
"How?" I cried out, moving away from her. She couldn't possibly understand how I was feeling. She never cared about any man for more than two nights. She was never in a serious relationship or in love. "You didn't see him lying helplessly on the ground when the doctor was giving him CPR! He was dead!"
"But he managed to come back," she objected, trying to touch me, but I didn't let her. I didn't want to be soothed into some fantasy. I needed facts, but no one cared enough to answer my questions.
"For how long!?" I yelled, standing up from my bed. "They won't even let me see him."
"No one can see him, Ellie," she pointed out, sighing exasperatedly. "He needs rest and a quiet environment, not your consternation."
