From His Silent Bride to the Queen of Comebacks

As soon as he finished speaking, he pinned her down again, not giving her a chance to escape.

"Ah-!"

Lydia couldn't take the way he looked at her and what he said-it stung. She knew begging would be pointless.

So, in a burst of frustration, she bit his lip hard. But that only made Henry lash out even more, like she'd lit a fuse.

Panicking, Lydia acted on instinct. She raised her leg and kicked out hard.

With a loud "thud," something hit the ground.

Henry froze mid-movement, letting out a muffled groan, his body rigid.

She seized the moment and pulled away from him with all her might, scrambling off the bed.

As she stumbled toward the door, her foot caught, and she nearly fell. She looked down-and froze.

A prosthetic limb lay silently on the floor.

Her chest tightened as she realized what had just happened.

She'd just-

Her eyes darted back to the bed. Henry had curled into himself, face hidden in the shadows.

But she could hear it now-low, painful groans slipping past his clenched teeth, getting louder like they were finally breaking free.

Guilt twisted in her stomach, hot and sharp.

She knew it was the phantom pain again-brought on because she kicked off his prosthetic.

"Henry... are you okay?" she asked, voice trembling.

She rushed back over, unsure what to do, watching in horror as he trembled on the bed, his face pale from pain.

"What the hell are you doing back here? Came to see me suffer?" he shouted, his voice hoarse but furious.

"Get out. I said get out!"

He hurled anything he could reach at her-all of it landing with dull thuds around her.

Tears welled up in Lydia's eyes, but she stood her ground. Let him vent.

When he finally stopped, she hurried to find his medication and knelt beside him.

Carefully, she pulled his sweat-soaked body toward her, trying to support him.

She tried to give him the pills, but his eyes were shut tight, his body trembling too much to swallow.

Desperate, she started crying. She hesitated for just a second-then popped the pill into her own mouth, took a sip of water, leaned in, and pressed her lips to his.

Feeling the familiar warmth, Henry's lips parted instinctively.

Lydia took the chance to guide the pill into his mouth.

She gripped his jaw gently.

He resisted for a second-but then, slowly, he swallowed the medicine.

Lydia finally exhaled a heavy breath and sat there with her arms around him, gently patting Henry on the back like she was trying to calm a panicked child.

Henry was completely out of it from the pain. After taking the meds, the effect kicked in fast.

In no time, his trembling slowed, and his shaky breathing eased up.

Seeing this, Lydia's tightly strung nerves slowly relaxed.

She tried to shift him off her, but he was like a rock-dead weight. No matter how she pushed or nudged, he just leaned in closer, curling up into her arms like he didn't want to let go.

Left with no choice, she gave up and stayed in that position, holding him while quietly spacing out.

The dim room fell into silence, and it felt like the only sounds in the world were the beating of their hearts echoing off each other.

Remembering the way Henry had thrashed in pain earlier made guilt wash all over her like a drowning tide. Her chest tightened unbearably, like something was cracking open inside her.

"Henry, I'm so sorry... This is all my fault."

Everything led back to her.

Back when she got lost as a kid, if that hadn't happened, her parents wouldn't have spent years desperately searching for her. They wouldn't have used up all their savings to treat her mutism, and later, when her mom fell seriously ill, they would've had the money for treatment.

But they didn't. And because of that, her dad took on a risky late-night trucking job to make ends meet... which ended in that terrible, life-wrecking crash.

No crash would've meant her parents would still be alive. And Henry's dad would've been fine. His leg wouldn't have been ruined, either.

At the heart of it all-was her.

She sobbed, full of pain and regret, but not a sound came out.

By the time her eyes were scratched raw from crying, her mind was already half asleep.

The next morning, sunshine peeked through a gap in the curtains, casting a stripe of light across the bed.

Henry fluttered his eyes open, only to find Lydia's porcelain-pale face right in front of his. He was wrapped snug against her like a kid clinging to safety.

She... held him all night?

His eyes filled with mixed emotion as a beam of sunlight lit her sleeping face.

She looked so calm in her sleep, like a little doll. The tiny fine hairs on her cheeks were clearly visible in the light.

And just like that, his mind flashed back to the first time he'd seen her. That tiny little girl, slumped next to her parents' lifeless bodies, her face tear-streaked and wild with grief. She had cried so hard it cut through the air.

He had stepped closer, and she looked up at him-and in that moment, her wide, innocent eyes locked onto his with a kind of raw purity that made his heart skip a beat.

Something inside him had moved, and without even thinking, he'd reached out to gently touch her face.