HONOR ME

TWELVE

SKYLER

“He left already, Mom.”

“I know. I tried reaching him.”

“Airplane mode,” I replied casually, closing the refrigerator door.

“The weather is terrible for flights. All other flights have been cancelled. I’m just worried.”

The juice carton slipped from my hand and hit the floor.

My brows furrowed.

“Did you not hear?”

A strange feeling settled in my stomach.

I rushed into the living room and grabbed the remote, switching on the television.

“Oh my...”

The news channel was already broadcasting live.

“Due to severe weather conditions, several flights departing from London have experienced delays and cancellations. Authorities are currently monitoring the situation closely as unpredictable storms continue across the region.”

My heart started beating faster.

The reporter continued.

“However, we have just received breaking news regarding Flight LA-247, which departed from London earlier today.”

I froze.

“Fuck.”

My phone slipped from my hand and crashed onto the floor.

Mother’s voice on the other end of the call became distorted before eventually cutting off.

I barely noticed.

The doorbell rang.

Before I could move, the door opened.

Rudolph rushed inside.

“André.”

His eyes immediately found me.

He walked closer, his expression tense.

“Where is he? What happened?”

I couldn’t answer.

I just stood there, staring at the television with my mouth slightly open.

“Skyler, answer me.”

His voice sharpened.

I flinched when he reached for me and immediately pushed his hand away.

“Leave me alone.”

My voice trembled.

“Why are you here? You don’t even care about him.”

His face changed instantly.

“What do you mean I don’t care about my own son?”

His voice rose.

“In case you didn’t know, the love I have for that boy surpasses yours a thousand times over.”

I opened my mouth to respond.

I had so much to say.

But then the reporter’s voice cut through the room.

“Flight LA-247 has crashed near the English Channel.”

Everything inside me went still.

“The aircraft, which departed from London earlier today, went down during severe weather conditions. Emergency responders have arrived at the scene, and rescue operations are currently underway.”

The reporter’s voice continued, but I barely heard anything.

“Authorities have confirmed multiple fatalities among passengers onboard.”

My breathing became shallow.

“Among those who have lost their lives is international K-pop star Ahn-Min Ho. The thirty-six-year-old was travelling on Flight LA-247.”

Rudolph dropped to his knees.

Instantly.

Like his body could no longer carry the weight of what he was hearing.

The reporter continued.

“Several passengers have sustained injuries. Among those reported to be in critical condition is actress Quinn Loreen. Our correspondent, Tim Rothwell, is currently at the scene and will provide further updates.”

I blinked back tears.

No.

He couldn’t die like that.

No way.

Not André.

Not after this morning.

Not after he told me goodbye.

“Was my son on that flight?”

Rudolph’s voice was barely audible.

I stayed silent.

I didn’t know how to answer him.

Because I didn’t know.

“DID YOU LET MY SON GET ON THAT PLANE?”

His voice exploded through the room.

My fear turned into anger.

“Was I supposed to know?”

I stepped back.

“Don’t yell at me in my own home.”

He slowly stood and pointed a finger at me.

“Your home?”

His laugh was bitter.

“Are you even in love with him? No, you’re not. So don’t call this place your home.”

My jaw tightened.

“Get out.”

“Gold digger.”

The word was spat with pure disgust before he turned and stormed out.

The door slammed behind him.

But I barely heard it.

The television continued playing.

“I’m Tim Rothwell, reporting live from the crash site of Flight LA-247.”

The chaos behind him filled the screen.

“Emergency responders are currently assisting passengers. Those confirmed deceased include Ahn-Min Ho, Verity Stacy, and Rodrigues Fernan.”

My hands trembled.

“Passengers who sustained serious injuries include Calvin Harris, Riccardo Marquez, Quinn Loreen, and Palma Shrit.”

I held my breath.

“The injured passengers have been transported to St. Catherine’s Medical Centre, where doctors are currently treating.”

“We ask that loved ones come forward and provide any necessary information.”

My breath caught.

Then the reporter continued.

“André Larsen...”

My entire body froze.

“How could they leave out his name?”

The screen changed.

“Son of businessman Rudolph Larsen, André Larsen, sustained critical injuries and is currently receiving treatment.”

I turned off the television immediately.

No more.

I couldn’t hear another word.

I rushed upstairs, changed into the clothes I had worn the previous day, and grabbed his other car.

Red Blood Hospital was an hour and a half away.

Which meant the plane hadn’t gone far.

My hands tightened around the steering wheel.

I drove faster than I should have, ignoring the angry honks and shouts from other drivers.

Nothing mattered.

Not the traffic.

Not the rules.

Nothing.

I needed to know André was okay.

Or at least alive.

My heart felt like it was trying to escape my chest by the time I reached the hospital.

The second I entered, I rushed toward the reception desk.

“Ma’am, ma’am... please calm down. Breathe.”

A nurse stopped me, concern written across her face.

“André... André Larsen,” I managed between breaths.

My throat tightened.

“Please. Where is he?”

“André Larsen?”

I nodded quickly, coughing as I tried to steady myself.

“Let me take you to him, but first, may I ask who you are to him?”

I swallowed.

“Wife.”

The word barely left my mouth.

“Can you fill out—”

“No.”

My knees weakened.

For a second, I thought I was going to collapse.

The nurse immediately caught me.

“Okay, okay.”

Her expression softened.

“I’ll take you there.”

I followed her down the hallway, weaving past doctors and nurses rushing in every direction.

Every step felt heavier than the last.

Because somewhere behind one of those doors...

Was André.

━━━━━━ ✧ ━━━━━━

“Inside, but you can’t go in yet. A brain injury was sustained, and he’s currently being operated on.”

I nodded slowly.

My eyes moved toward the operating room door, hoping to catch even a glimpse of him.

No use.

“Thank you.”

“Please have a seat. They should be done shortly.”

I nodded and sat down.

My racing heart had calmed slightly, but the anxiety crawling up my spine refused to leave.

━━━━━━ ✧ ━━━━━━

Three hours later, the surgery was finally over.

The doctor allowed me to see him.

André was unconscious, but they expected him to wake up within the next two days. According to the doctor, he was going to be okay.

“Hey there,” I whispered.

I pulled a chair closer to his bedside.

“Thank God you’re alright.”

I reached for his hand and intertwined my fingers with his.

“I was so scared.”

My voice cracked as I sniffed and blinked back the tears threatening to fall.

“Oh gosh... you—”

“André?”

The door suddenly opened.

Christine rushed inside, tears streaming down her face.

Rudolph and Pamela followed closely behind.

“Oh my...”

Christine’s eyes immediately landed on him.

“What did the doctor say?”

“He’s going to wake up and be okay in a couple of days. No pressure,” I replied.

Pamela walked over and stood beside me, rubbing my shoulders gently.

“He’s going to be fine, Sky.”

Her voice softened.

“I was so worried about you. I couldn’t get through to your phone.”

I looked down.

“I don’t think my phone works anymore.”

She looked surprised but didn’t question it.

“He’s going to be fine.”

She squeezed my arm and patted my back.

At least he was here.

At least he was alive.

━━━━━━ ✧ ━━━━━━

Time moved painfully slowly.

But after what felt like an eternity, two days finally passed.

According to the doctors, André was expected to regain consciousness.

I stepped into his hospital room and quietly shut the door behind me.

Pamela and Christine were on their way to the hospital, while Rudolph seemed strangely unbothered by everything. Or maybe he was just better at hiding it.

I walked toward the bed and sat down beside him.

His monitor displayed a steady heartbeat and stable blood pressure.

Even knowing that, I still couldn't stop the tears from falling.

“Hey,” I whispered.

My voice cracked.

He didn’t move.

I sniffed and blinked rapidly, trying to hold myself together.

“You’re supposed to be awake.”

My fingers tightened around his.

“Come on... you’ve slept long enough.”

Nothing.

No movement.

No response.

I swallowed hard and intertwined my fingers with his.

“Wait... please.”

Still nothing.

I hesitated before lifting his hand to my lips.

I pressed a soft kiss against his knuckles.

“Please wake up.”

For a moment, everything remained silent.

Then—

His fingers moved.

My breath caught.

His eyes slowly fluttered open.

“André?”

His gaze wandered around the room before finally landing on me.

For a second, confusion crossed his face.

Then his expression relaxed.

“Hey.”

I leaned closer.

“Remember me?”

His brows creased.

For a terrifying moment, he looked like he genuinely had no idea who I was.

My heart dropped.

“I’m Skyler,” I said softly. “Your wife.”

He stared at me for another second.

Then he slowly reached up and removed his oxygen mask.

“Like I’d forget you even if I tried.”

His grin appeared.

Wide.

Smug.

Completely André.

“Oh, jeez.”

A shaky laugh escaped me.

Relief hit me all at once, and before I could stop myself, I threw my arms around him.

The second I felt him tense, I froze.

He winced, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Sorry. Sorry.”

I immediately pulled back.

“Are you okay?”

A small smile tugged at his lips.

“How—”

“André?”

The door suddenly opened.

Christine rushed inside, concern written all over her face.

I immediately stood and stepped away, giving her space.

“Oh my God.”

Her eyes filled with tears.

“I was so goddamn worried. Thank goodness you’re okay.”

She leaned down, kissed his forehead, and whispered something into his ear.

Pamela walked over to me and gently rubbed my back.

“I thought you hated your husband.”

My response stopped before it could leave my mouth.

Because I didn’t know what to say.

People didn’t worry like this about someone they hated.

Did they?

Before I could answer, the nurse who had been caring for André walked in.

She greeted everyone before moving toward the bed.

“When did he wake up?”

“Not too long ago,” I answered.

She nodded.

“Good morning, Mr. Larsen.”

She sat beside him and shined a small light into his eyes.

“Everything looks good. He may experience headaches and migraines from time to time, but that should improve with recovery.”

She wrote something down on her clipboard.

“I’m going to prepare his prescription.”

She looked up at us.

“Now, who is responsible for his care once he’s discharged?”

I hesitated.

For some reason, I looked toward Christine.

I expected her to answer.

Instead, she smiled softly and nodded toward me.

Giving me permission.

I stepped forward.