Page 62 of His Beloved Princess
A Best Friend
Electra
Time slowly passed in the hospital, yet after a few days, one would definitely lose track of a day and a night. It happened to me, too. It didn’t matter if it was morning, evening, or the middle of the night, the machines didn’t stop working, nurses continued coming in to check on Bastian regularly, and the world was still spinning, even when the love of my life didn’t wake up after the surgery.
Almost a week after the crash, I was in the worst possible state of mind a person could be in when seeing someone they love fighting for their life. I was depressed, exhausted, and desperate to witness some change in Bastian’s condition.
Frederick tried to reassure me that no change was better than a worsening of his health, and he was right, yet my brain didn’t work properly. It showed me scenarios of Bastian’s death so many times that I had to regularly make sure he was still alive; otherwise, I would have lost my mind completely.
I left his side only to take a shower and change clothes in the hospital bathroom. I hadn’t been home since I walked out of the apartment after our argument, and I didn’t intend to go back without my man by my side.
Zoe brought me necessities, and my dad came daily to keep me company. Even my mother called to ask how my boyfriend was doing. It almost sounded like she cared.
Thankfully, the Thorn family was united in all ways possible. And they were also keeping an eye on me more than on their unconscious brother. According to Peter, Bastian was taken care of, so they felt the need to watch my every move.
Andreas was forcing me to eat at least something throughout the day. The truth was, without his oversight, I would have been in the hospital bed because of a lack of nutrition.
It was the same with sleep. Peter came every evening and took me away from Bastian, even when it sometimes required extreme patience to persuade me to lie down on the couch and take a nap, and he stayed with me till the morning.
And then it was Fredy, who mainly came unexpectedly, bringing me sweets, and hugging and soothing me every time he got a chance.
Thanks to them for the past week, I finally felt that I belonged somewhere. Yes, Bastian gave me everything I never had in life. He cared for me, respected me, valued me, and made me feel safe and loved, but this was different. His siblings let me inside their inner circle, almost as if I were their brother’s wife, their sister.
“Broccoli isn’t responsible for the current situation, Electra,” Andreas pointed out, his voice full of annoyance. I raised my head from the plate where a steak and vegetable rested, meeting his stare.
He looked like he had aged at least ten years since the accident. Not even the signature emotionless mask on his face could hide the fact that he was suffering.
“I am responsible for this,” I mumbled under my breath, setting the fork down. He had already managed to stuff me with soup, but the steak was too much for my cramped stomach.
“You should go home and rest properly,” he stated, briefly closing his eyes. He either didn’t hear my remark or decided to ignore it. We’d argued over it a few times, and he was probably too exhausted to fight with me again.
“At least for one night,” he continued when I didn’t object but just stared mindlessly at him. “Peter stays here with him. He won’t be alone.”
Averting my gaze from his weary face, I looked at Bastian, motionlessly lying on the bed. The nurses exercised with him an hour ago, so he didn’t catch decubitus. His chest raised and fell in an even rhythm, but that was the only thing manageable for him. He was breathing by himself, and according to the doctors, it was a huge step forward in his recovery, but it happened four days ago, and since then, nothing has improved.
This slight change for the better gave me hope, yet it was slowly fading when I stared daily at his almost transparent skin. He was losing weight quickly, and he looked so fragile and vulnerable. It was scary how a once strong, healthy man could become a lifeless wreck in a matter of days.
“I can’t leave him,” I whispered, standing and sitting beside Bastian. My hand connected with his in a gentle touch, and tears, which I had been pushing back, fell from my eyes.
“Electra,” Andreas sighed, joining me next to the bed, but I refused to look at him. I only shook my head firmly, keeping my eyes on Bastian.
“Look at me!”
I winced in shock when the words reached my ears. It wasn’t because of the clear command in Andreas’ voice but because of how he said it. He sounded exactly like his older brother—stern, bossy, but at the same time caring.
I couldn’t stop my head from turning in his direction and meeting his eyes. It was the automatic reaction of my body. And it felt absolutely wrong that it listened to another man other than Sir, but it also felt so revealing. Some heavy weight was lifted from my shoulders, at least briefly, before my brain registered this was a different person and not our man.
“You’ll go home and rest,” Andreas ordered, using his dominant voice on me like it was no big deal while I was a sobbing mess. “It’s for your own good.”
“But...” I choked out, my vision blurry. I only saw his figure towering over me and nothing else.
“I’m done with buts, Electra,” he stated firmly, taking me by my elbow and making me stand. “I don’t have any right to talk to you like this, yet you only listen to direct commands.”
“You’re not him,” I whispered weakly, even when I wasn’t sure the words coming out of my mouth were true. He sounded like him. He almost looked like him. And he was staring down at me exactly likehedid when I disobeyed him. My poor, broken heart couldn’t see the difference, and Andreas used those similarities to get what he wanted from me.
“I don’t want to be him,” he retorted, handing me my purse and helping me into my trench coat. “I just need to take care of you. He will kick my ass if I don’t do it.”
“It won’t matter if he dies,” I uttered, wiping my cheeks with my hands and cringing when I heard Andreas chuckling. It was so surprising that I stared at him with my mouth open like an idiot.
