CHAPTER 62: A FOOL'S GAMBLE

MARIE The hospital room was cold, and I couldn't help but feel a chill that mirrored the emotional distance between Charles and me. I was deeply concerned about him, but seeing him lying there with bandages wrapped around his bruised ribs brought a painful reminder of the boundary between us. Charles had hoped for more—he had planned this entire ordeal to elicit sympathy, to make me see how much he needed me. Yet, as I looked at him now, my heart ached not just for his physical pain but for the unfulfilled hopes he harbored. The nurse entered to discharge him. "Mr. Douglas, you're good to go," she said with a professional smile that seemed more mechanical than genuine. I watched Charles closely, my emotions torn. I had insisted on staying by his side, and now, as I saw him struggling, I felt a pang of guilt mixed with a touch of helplessness. Charles's attempt to refuse the discharge was palpable, but the sight of me—the care and concern I was trying to offer—made him hold back his