Chapter 23 #2
It felt like hours passed in that oppressive waiting room before a doctor finally emerged. He moved slowly, his bright blue eyes dark with worry and unreadable thoughts. Cali and I instantly stood up, hope battling the desperation within us.
“Mr. Galanis?” he asked, extending a hand that trembled slightly as I shook it.
Without waiting for more, I managed a tight nod.
“Is my wife, okay?” I demanded, the weight of every unsaid prayer and silent tear pressing down on me as I searched his face for any sign of hope.
He gave me a firm nod, his eyes steady as he spoke. “She survived the surgery. She’s asking for you. Follow me, and I’ll take you to see her.”
“Can I come too?” Cali asked. “She’s my sister.”
She was coming with us, whether the doctor liked it or not.
He glanced in my direction, met my scowl, and then turned to Cali.
“Sure,” he replied with a curt nod, then turned on his heel.
We fell into step behind him, my heart hammering in my chest with a mix of dread and hope.
Layana was alive—she was okay! I closed my eyes for a brief moment, whispering a silent prayer of gratitude to the very god I had nearly condemned only moments earlier.
Cali squeezed my hand, her gaze tentative yet reassuring.
“It’s okay,” I murmured to her.
The doctor guided us down what seemed like an endless series of immaculate white hallways.
Our shoes clicked rhythmically on the shiny linoleum floor, each step echoing against the sterile walls.
The corridor was lit by fluorescent bulbs reflecting off every polished surface, while the scent of antiseptic mixed with an unidentifiable clinical aroma.
Upon reaching a door on our right, the doctor opened it and motioned for us to enter.
“I’ll be right back,” he assured me in a calm, measured tone before stepping away. “I just need a minute, then I’ll return to discuss your wife’s condition.”
“Her condition?” My entire body froze like a shockwave, immediately tightening the grip of worry in my gut.
I had only heard that she had made it through the surgery. Was there something else that had gone horribly wrong?
I rushed through the door. My eyes immediately fell upon Layana’s fragile form lying in the sterile room.
I stood frozen, unable to do anything but stare at her, entangled in a maze of wires connected to beeping machines. Her exposed shoulders revealed bruises and bandaged areas that sharply contrasted with her pallid skin.
A fresh surge of anger welled up inside me, nearly boiling over as I silently cursed my brothers under my breath while I advanced as fast as possible in her direction without running.
She lifted her head as I reached out to take her hand.
When my fingers brushed against it, I resisted the instinct to draw back. Needles jutted from her fragile skin like unwelcome thorns.
“Sorry,” I whispered, shock mingling with concern. “Laya, are you okay?”
Before I could collect my thoughts, Cali rushed to the other side of her sister, tears streaming down her face as she saw her sibling’s fragile state.
“Shhh, I’m fine,” Laya reassured us. “It looks worse than it is. Cali, please stop crying. I’m okay.”
My eyes scanned her frame, absorbing every visible inch of her.
“What did the doctor say?” I asked.
“Nothing much, actually,” she replied softly, the mystery still lingering in the air. “I caught him whispering with the nurses, but I couldn’t make out what was said. He only mentioned that he would come for you when I asked for you again.”
“He said he’d be right back,” I replied. “I’m sure everything is fine.”
She offered me a crooked, tired smile, her eyes reflecting both sleepiness and hope.
In that moment, my heart brimmed with gratitude, surpassing my body’s exhaustion. The tension that had knotted inside me slowly unraveled until I felt as weak and vulnerable as a puppy.
“I’m so glad you’re okay, my love,” I whispered, tucking a stray strand of hair from her forehead.
“Me too,” she replied, then asked, “What happened to your brothers?”
I shook my head, determined to keep the moment free from further worries. “Shh, we can discuss all of that later. You’re safe now. I promise you that. Nobody will ever hurt you again, Laya.”
“Niko, it wasn’t your fault,” she insisted, but I knew the truth, and nothing would persuade me otherwise.
“Hush,” I said, placing my finger on her lips. “We have all the time in the world to discuss this later. Let’s focus on getting you completely healed, all right?”
Glancing over my shoulder, I scanned the hallway for the doctor, my impatience growing with each passing second. I exchanged a worried glance with Cali before quickly looking away.
I wouldn’t stop worrying until I knew Layana was out of the woods.
“I’ll be right back,” I announced, leaving Laya and Cali to their quiet conversation as I set off to find the doctor.
I left the door ajar, a fragile lifeline connecting me to her side, resolute in my determination to return as swiftly as possible. Once I located him, I intended to insist that a security team be stationed outside her room immediately.
My heart pounded louder as I approached the nurses’ station, anxiety swirling with each heartbeat.
“I’d like to speak with my wife’s doctor. He said he would return shortly. Where is he?”
The nurse looked up at me with calm efficiency. “Oh, yes, of course. You’re Mr. Galanis, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I confirmed with a tight nod.
“Dr. Moros will be back shortly. I’m sure he’ll find you as soon as he can.”
“His name is Dr. Moros?”
A chill of dread ran down my spine. In the labyrinth of Greek mythology, Moros personified impending doom and death.
“Yes, Mr. Galanis,” she confirmed.
“You have to be kidding me,” I couldn’t help but shout. “I want another doctor! Immediately!”
Over my dead body would anyone associated with dying treat my wife.
Every instinct in my scream to grab her and leave.
“There is nothing to worry about, Mr. Galanis. I assure you.” The nurse’s lips curved into a grin, and she shook her head as if my outburst was amusing. “I know it sounds odd, but believe it or not, many consider it good luck to have Dr. Moros as their physician.”
“Is that so?” I questioned, bitterness mingling with relief at her attempt to soothe my fears.
“He’s a brilliant doctor—meticulous, compassionate, the very first I’d trust with my own family,” she assured warmly.
“A little reassurance,” I grumbled, though the tension in my jaw softened slightly. “Perhaps he should have a less foreboding name that doesn’t scare patients half to death.”
Her laughter was like a gentle melody in the clinical glare of the ward.
“He won’t be long,” she promised.
I nodded and returned to Laya’s room. Inside, surrounded by the sterile brightness and the hum of medical devices, I found Laya and Cali engaged in a silly conversation that had them giggling intermittently between whatever outrageous thing Cali was discussing.
I paused to watch them, the sound of their joy providing a balm for my tormented soul. Just hours earlier, I feared I would never hear my wife laugh again, but now that worry dissolved in the melody of that sound.
“The doctor is taking his sweet time,” I remarked wryly.
“Well, he is the doctor of death or something,” Cali teased, her humor a splash against our shared anxieties. “Maybe that’s a good omen.”
“I see you were informed of his name too,” I said, half-smiling.
“I told her,” Laya responded, intertwining her fingers with mine. “Niko, relax, babe. I’m okay. I promise.”
I couldn’t help but offer a sardonic retort. “I’ll relax once I hear that reassurance from someone other than the person who, despite being shot, was trying to get up and fight back.”
I shot her a pointed look, and in response, she glanced at Cali as if to share a secret rebuke.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that? I simply told the truth.” Cali shrugged defensively. “We had time to talk while we were waiting.”
“I craved vengeance,” Laya admitted, clearly annoyed with her predicament.
“I understand.”
She nodded slowly at me, a silent promise passing between us. What else was there to say? I understood her urge, and luckily, I’d dealt with it.
“Thank you,” she whispered, and I leaned down to kiss her forehead with a tenderness that belied the storm raging inside me.
“The pleasure was all mine, but you’re welcome,” I said, turning back toward the door. “Where is this blasted doctor?”
With that, I rose and resumed pacing, each step echoing my inner turbulence—a blend of hope, fury, and an undying commitment to shield the woman I cherished more than life itself.
“Niko, seriously.” Laya’s exasperated interjection almost had me smiling. “I am fine. Let the doctor tend to the patients who require his immediate care.”
I turned to face her, shaking my head slowly to dispel the turbulent emotions swirling inside.
“Must I remind you, my dearest wife, that it was my reckless brother who shot you? A jagged bullet tore into your flesh, forcing you into surgery. As much as I long to assert that you are the very embodiment of perfect health and beauty, I cannot deny the harsh reality. You are far from okay, Laya!”
“Stop being so dramatic,” she retorted, rolling her eyes.
A wry smile tugged at my lips as I replied, “I suppose I should have been even more dramatic.”
Her brow furrowed in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“You should always have an army by your side, my love. If I had sent even more guards to protect you, none of this would have happened. But rest assured, this will never happen again. Not only will you be surrounded by a battalion of well-trained fighters, but you will never leave my sight. I promise to protect you to the very end if I have to.”
“Oh my God,” she said, shaking her head and sighing as if to dispel the intensity of the statement. “Good luck with that, Niko. Need I remind you that I am a grown woman, perfectly capable of caring for myself?”