Chapter 4

• ARTEMY
• The following day had already arrived, Nona arrived bearing food. However, my appetite was nonexistent. My presence remained steadfast by Rebecca's side, where I held her closely, my touch gentle and hopeful, yearning for her to awaken from her slumber.
• Throughout the day, my companions, the men under my command, entered and exited the room. Brayden made attempts to persuade me into taking a shower, yet I stubbornly declined. Nona, displaying concern, offered to care for Rebecca while I rested, but I rebuffed all offers of assistance, distancing myself from their well-intentioned efforts.
• I spoke ceaselessly, my voice growing parched and aching. I held onto the belief that my words could somehow reach her unconscious mind and rouse her from her deep sleep. A multitude of uncertainties filled my thoughts, each prefaced with ‘maybe’, yet hope persisted despite the bleak circumstances.
• Even as the situation appeared increasingly grim, hope clung to me. Despite the sensation of internal fracture and slow disintegration, my optimism endured. As long as I held Rebecca in my embrace, hope remained an anchor.
• Once, I had been her savior, and I was resolved to fulfill that role again. A surge of frustration coursed through me, compelling me to press my hand against my chest, a futile attempt to quell the burning sensations within. Emotions, feelings—the vulnerability they brought forth was undeniable.
• A wry, humorless chuckle escaped me as I leaned my head against the headboard, acknowledging the irreversibility of the situation. I now comprehended the wisdom in Damian and Howard's prior words.
• Absentmindedly, my fingers traced over Rebecca's arm. In observing her slumbering form, I discerned faint signs of awakening. The furrowing of her forehead and the slight twitch of her lips signaled movement beneath her repose.
• Leaning forward, my heart pounded with fervor. A tremor seized my hands, and beads of sweat formed on my forehead. "Angel," I breathed as she stirred from her extended slumber. Her eyes fluttered open, initially drowsy, but gradually gaining full awareness.
• Our gazes locked, and akin to our initial encounter, my heart faltered while my stomach coiled with tension. A surge of elation tempted me to express exuberance in the loudest manner possible, yet I restrained myself, allowing only a smile to grace my lips.
• Drawing nearer, I placed a tender kiss upon her forehead. "My Rebecca. My exquisite Angel," I murmured, a cascade of affectionate kisses trailing across her features.
• However, as Rebecca's lack of response persisted, a concerned crease formed between my eyebrows, the radiance of my smile waning. Slowly, the realization crystallized—she hadn't acknowledged me.
• "Rebecca?" I whispered, my fingertip grazing her cheek as it traversed her dry lips.
• Her emerald eyes remained devoid of recognition. A wave of nausea swept over me. Her silence spoke volumes; she wasn't seeing me. Her gaze remained distant, fixated on nothingness. Doubts surfaced regarding her comprehension of the unfolding events.
• In a futile bid to rekindle her presence, I dedicated several minutes to my endeavor. However, it became evident that my efforts were in vain.
• I stood there, captivated by the sight of Rebecca before me, a sense of paralysis gripping me completely. The longing I had harbored for so long was now fulfilled, yet not in the way I had ever imagined.
• Her eyes, once brimming with life and emotion, now held an emptiness that pierced through my heart. It was as though her gaze didn't register my presence; I was invisible to her. Desperate to draw her attention, I reached out and gently brushed her cheek with my fingers, hoping for even the faintest flicker of recognition. Instead, she averted her eyes, her gaze wandering around the room in a disconnected manner. I found myself uneasy as her focus lingered on the distant wall far longer than I could bear.
• Her gaze shifted once more, sweeping across the room with an intensity that betrayed her detachment from reality. Despite her apparent scrutiny, it was evident that she wasn't truly seeing anything; she was lost within the labyrinth of her own thoughts. Her eyes perceived the physical surroundings, yet her mind seemed oblivious to their existence.
• A sense of foreboding settled over me as I contemplated the aftermath of her captivity. The anguish she had endured was etched into her being, and I feared that its impact might be irreparable. I had braced myself for her pain, perhaps even for her inability to fully heal, but I had clung to the hope that she would at least recognize me.
• Her once vibrant, emerald eyes met mine once again, and I was transported back to the first time our gazes had intertwined. Those eyes, once filled with trepidation, had gradually transformed over time. I had witnessed them evolve from fear to wonder, from amazement to pure happiness, and ultimately, to a profound love that had forged an unbreakable connection between us.
• Now, all that remained was a void. Her eyes were windows to a realm devoid of emotion, a place where the light of her spirit seemed extinguished. Gazing into those vacant depths, I felt an emptiness echoing within me. Her existence had been my anchor, her joy my own, her laughter and smiles had animated my world. Her eyes, so often brimming with love, had taught me the essence of compassion and affection, and their current hollowness only accentuated my own surfeit of emotions.
• Her unyielding gaze bore into mine, a silent exchange between shades of blue and green. My heart pounded heavily in my chest as I searched for any trace of vitality, any sign of life returning to those once vibrant orbs. Alas, none materialized, and a heavy realization settled over me like a thick fog. We were plunged back into the abyss of darkness, and the one who had once been my Angel now regarded me as a stranger.
• Dread gripped me as I feared pushing too hard, too fast, and exacerbating her withdrawal. Suppressing the knot in my throat, I shook my head with a mixture of trepidation and determination. Surrender was not an option. I was resolved to fight, to exhaust every ounce of my being to guide her back to herself.
• Summoning a strained smile, I leaned in, my fingertip tracing a delicate path along her cheek, tucking a strand of Rebecca's hair behind her ear. Her countenance remained unmoved, her gaze fixed on mine with an intensity that bordered on fascination. It was almost as if my eyes were the only anchor she had in this tumultuous sea of detachment.
• I shifted closer until our faces were mere breaths apart. A tender touch of my lips to her nose was followed by a subtle retreat. "I know you might not hear me, or perhaps you won't comprehend, but I want my voice to reach you. I want you to know that I'm here," I murmured, my lips grazing her ear. A soft kiss pressed against her forehead, and then I leaned back slightly. "Angel," I whispered, my words a tender caress in her ear. As I pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, I leaned back, regarding her with affection. "You're so incredibly beautiful, do you realize that?"
• Her silence hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the journey she had endured. My fingers brushed against her cheeks, a tactile connection to the changes that had marked her physical being during her ordeal. The baby she carried within her was a silent witness to her resilience, a living testament to her strength.
• My eyes shifted to her abdomen, and with a deep breath, I gently rested my hand upon the precious bump.
• Internally, an intense yearning surged within me, a desire to rekindle that connection once more. The impulse to feel the baby's movements, to establish a profound link with the tiny life within, held me in its grip.
• As my hand made contact with Rebecca's abdomen, a swift response emanated from the baby within her womb. A reflexive smile unfurled across my lips, my heart leaping with an odd sense of exhilaration at the realization that my touch could set the baby in motion.
• My fingers gently traced the contours of her burgeoning belly. "You're quite the dancer, aren't you?" I mused aloud as the baby shifted again beneath my touch. "Or perhaps a little fighter?" A soft chuckle bubbled up from within me, a sense of amusement at the invisible spectacle unfolding within her. A sudden forceful kick pressed against my palm, the baby's response speaking volumes. "A fighter it is, then," I murmured in acknowledgment.
• Yet another kick followed suit. I inclined closer, positioning myself until my face hovered directly over her belly. With a gentle pressure, I maintained contact, my words forming a whispered dialogue with the unborn child.
• "You should let your mommy rest," I addressed the unseen recipient of my words, my voice quivering as emotions welled up. "She's tired."
• Anticipation hung in the air, and in the wake of another kick, a sensation of profound fulfillment rippled through me. My gaze lifted to find Rebecca still regarding me, her eyes a silent conduit of emotions.
• "Are you hungry?" I queried, the inquiry carrying the weight of unspoken concern. I straightened, awaiting a response that I knew might not come, yet felt compelled to ask. "You need nourishment," I continued, my words flowing even in her silence. "Should I call Nona to bring some food?"
• With a swift motion, I reached for my phone, swiftly setting the wheels in motion.
• Meeting Rebecca's gaze once more, I took my place beside her. "Nona prepared your favorite fried noodles," I divulged softly, my hand tenderly grazing her hair. "You used to eat them, remember? You'd guard the last plate with the spirit of a warrior."
• A steady stream of conversation flowed from me, reminiscing of shared memories, stories of Nona's affection. Yet, Rebecca remained a silent observer, her presence a riddle that defied easy deciphering.
• At last, Nona arrived bearing a tray laden with food. I assisted Rebecca into a seated position, her eyes shifting between the meal before her and my awaiting gaze. Slowly, I offered a forkful of food to her lips, yearning for some flicker of response that remained elusive.
• Nona's coaxing met with stoic resistance, and my hands trembled as I nudged the tray away. "She won't eat," my voice quivered, my frustration and helplessness mingling.
• "But Artemy, she must," Nona's plea resonated, her voice laced with tears.
• Beside me, Rebecca stirred, reclining before turning her gaze upon me for one final moment before surrendering to sleep. Her breath steadied within seconds, her form relaxing in slumber. My Angel, shattered and fragile, lay before me.
• "Artemy," Nona's voice wafted in hushed sorrow, but I shook my head, my attention affixed to the sleeping figure.
• With the tray retrieved, the room was consumed by a heaviness that matched the turmoil within my heart. Drawing closer, I cradled Rebecca against me, her vulnerability a testament to the torment she endured.
• Her drowsy sigh resonated against my chest, and I held her more tightly. The rhythmic movements of her baby, akin to a whisper of life, gradually stilled, eventually accompanied by her own slumber.
• However, I remained vigilant, resistance to sleep's embrace fortified by the haunting images that danced behind my eyelids. The darkness only conjured visions of Rebecca imprisoned, wounded, and alone.
• Thus, I maintained my watch over her, holding her close and safeguarding her rest.
• In this instance, a sense of cluelessness and vulnerability enveloped me. I hadn't solely failed Rebecca; I had also fallen short in protecting the innocent life growing within her.