The Hospital Part 1
1051 Words
Evelyn’s eyes fluttered open to an unfamiliar room. A dull, throbbing ache pulsed through her skull—unbearable and relentless.
She tried to sit up, but her body protested. Every muscle was sore and heavy like she’d been hit by a truck. As her eyes adjusted to the harsh lighting, the sharp scent of antiseptic filled her nose.
She glanced at her hand. A drip line was taped to her skin, the IV feeding into her arm.
She was in the hospital.
But… why?
Evelyn’s eyes scanned the room until they landed on something—someone.
Ethan.
He was seated beside her, fast asleep in the chair. His face was a portrait of exhaustion—eye bags beneath his eyes, forehead creased as he muttered something in his sleep. She leaned in slightly and realized he was whispering her name.
Evelyn reached out and tapped his hand gently.
Ethan stirred. Bleary-eyed, he turned toward her and the moment their eyes met, his face transformed from confusion to overwhelming relief.
He shot to his feet.
“Darling, you’re awake! Thank goodness,” he breathed, a smile breaking across his face. “Are… are you in pain? Do you want me to get the doctor? Tell me if you need something… anything.”
“W… water,” Evelyn rasped.
“Oh, of course. One second.”
He grabbed the jug beside her and poured water into a glass. After helping her sit up, he carefully brought it to her lips, letting her sip slowly.
“Thank you,” she whispered afterward.
Ethan set the cup down and turned toward the door. “I’ll go get the doctor.”
“Wait,” Evelyn said, her voice still faint. “I need to talk to you first.”
“Whatever you have to say can wait. Let the doctor examine you first,” Ethan replied, his tone stern.
Despite the relief of seeing her conscious, his thoughts kept drifting back to the moment he found her—b****y, limp, unconscious.
Barely breathing.
The guilt gnawed at him. She’d been hurt—in his own home—and he hadn’t been able to stop it. He was angry. At himself. At his carelessness. At the fact that he hadn’t been able to protect the woman he loved.
Maybe… he didn’t deserve her.
“Just a few minutes, Ethan,” Evelyn pleaded, pulling him back to the present. “I promise, I won’t take long. I just… I need to talk to you before anyone else comes in.”
Ethan hesitated, then gave in. “Ten minutes. That’s all you get before I call the doctor.”
“Thank you. Please, sit.”
He returned to the chair beside her bed, his guilt intensifying with every glance at her pale face.
Evelyn reached for his hand, gently stroking it. “Ethan… I need you to tell me what happened. How did I end up here?”
Ethan’s brow furrowed. “I was hoping you could answer that. What exactly happened in that room, Evelyn? The way we found you…”
He trailed off, unable to finish.
Evelyn saw the pain in his eyes. Still, she needed answers—his side of the story might help her piece everything together.
“Babe, I promise I’ll explain everything,” she said softly. “But I need to hear your version first.”
Ethan exhaled deeply. “Alright.”
He began recounting the events: the loud crash he’d heard from the study… his frantic banging on the door… breaking it down when no one responded.
Then the sight that greeted them—Evelyn on the floor, unconscious, blood pooling beneath her head. Her stepmother was also bleeding. He ended the story with the hospital—how she’d been wheeled into surgery and how they had waited, anxiously, for three long days.
“…and that’s everything,” he finished quietly. “They stitched you up. You’ve been unconscious since.”
Evelyn took a slow breath. The pieces clicked together.
She remembered slapping Mrs. Hayes. The slap had been returned with far more force. She must have lost her balance, hit her head on the bedframe and passed out.
“What about my stepmother?” she asked suddenly. “Has she regained consciousness?”
“According to the doctor, her wounds weren’t as serious as yours, and she’s been treated… but for some reason, she still hasn’t woken up.”
Evelyn frowned. “Where’s her room?”
“Down the hall,” Ethan replied.
“I’ll visit her soon,” she murmured.
A pause settled between them. They both knew what was coming next.
Ethan needed answers—answers only Evelyn could give.
“So now tell me, Evelyn… what happened?” he asked. “Because I’m losing my mind here. Seeing you like that… and the only two people who know the truth are you and your stepmother.”
“I caused it,” Evelyn said quietly. “It was my fault.”
Ethan raised a brow. “Your fault? Not your stepmother’s?” He scoffed. “I know what she’s capable of. I know her history—what she’s done to you.”
“She’s not to blame this time. I was the one who started it. I… I hit her first,” Evelyn confessed.
Ethan’s eyes widened. “You hit her? Evelyn, the woman I know would never raise her hand unless she was seriously provoked. What did she do? What did she say?”
“She insulted my late mother,” Evelyn whispered. “And I just… lost it. I couldn’t take it anymore.”
Ethan’s face tightened.
“She retaliated,” Evelyn continued. “And that’s how I got hurt.”
Ethan let out a slow, exasperated breath.
“Do you know how I felt seeing you like that?” he asked, voice raw. “You were barely breathing, Evelyn. I thought… I thought I’d lost you.”
Evelyn squeezed his hand, her grip firm and comforting. Her eyes welled with tears.
“I’m so sorry, Ethan. I didn’t mean to scare you. I promise it won’t happen again.”
Ethan’s gaze hardened.
“It definitely won’t happen again,” he said, his voice quiet but resolute. “Because I’m suing your stepmother… for attempted murder.”
- Writer
