The Bride Widow
Chapter 132: Ch 132: Inner Turmoil - Part 1

Chapter 132: Ch 132: Inner Turmoil - Part 1

Clair pushed the door to Anabella’s hospital room open, and her gaze immediately softened when she saw her friend lying on the small, sterile bed. Anabella’s face was pale, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm that suggested she was fast asleep. Noah followed Clair inside, closing the door quietly behind him.

Neither spoke as they moved closer to Anabella’s bed, their earlier urgency melting into quiet concern. Clair pulled a chair close, sitting down carefully, her sharp eyes scanning Anabella’s face for any sign of distress. Noah remained standing, his tall frame looming protectively as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.

Anabella lay still, her eyes closed, but her heart pounded in her chest. She wasn’t actually asleep. The moment she’d heard the door creak open, she’d instinctively kept her eyes shut, feigning rest. Now, with Clair and Noah so close, she felt trapped, a wave of anxiety tightening her muscles.

She couldn’t understand why they were here. Had the hospital called them? Had her manager? The questions swirled in her mind, each one louder than the last, until she could barely keep her breathing steady. She hoped neither of them noticed the slight trembling of her hands hidden beneath the thin hospital blanket.

Clair reached out, her fingers brushing a strand of hair away from Anabella’s face. "She looks exhausted," she murmured softly, her voice tinged with sadness. "How did we not see this coming?"

Noah’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkening. "Because she didn’t want us to see it," he replied, his tone low but firm. "She’s been hiding everything from us, Clair. It’s not just exhaustion. This is... more."

Anabella wanted to scream, to tell them to leave, to stop dissecting her like she was some fragile thing they needed to fix. But her throat felt dry, and her pride kept her frozen. She couldn’t face them, not like this.

"She’s always been stubborn," Clair said, a hint of a smile in her voice. "Even when we were kids, remember? She’d scrape her knees and insist she didn’t need a bandage. She’s always hated asking for help."

"Yeah, well," Noah muttered, "this time, she doesn’t have a choice. She needs help, whether she likes it or not."

Anabella’s chest tightened further. She knew they meant well, but their words felt like needles pricking her pride. She didn’t need saving, not from them, not from anyone. Or at least, that’s what she tried to convince herself.

Clair settled back in her chair, her hands resting in her lap. "We’ll wait," she said firmly. "She’ll wake up, and then we’ll talk. No more dodging, no more pretending. We’re here for her, and she’s going to know that."

Noah nodded, his gaze still fixed on Anabella. "Agreed."

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours for Anabella. Her body remained tense, her mind racing with thoughts of how to handle the inevitable confrontation. She hated how exposed she felt, how vulnerable she must have looked lying there with the hospital’s harsh fluorescent light casting a pale glow over her.

Finally, Clair sighed, breaking the silence. "I don’t understand how she can be so calm, even in her sleep. If it were me, I’d be having nightmares about everything she’s been through."

"She’s stronger than she thinks," Noah replied, his voice softening. "But even the strongest people break eventually, Clair. That’s why we’re here."

Anabella’s breath hitched at his words, and she cursed herself for the involuntary reaction. She knew they cared about her, but their presence felt like both a comfort and a burden. The last thing she wanted was to drag them into her mess, yet here they were, refusing to leave her side.

Noah stepped closer to the bed, his footsteps almost imperceptible on the tiled floor. He hesitated for a moment before placing a hand gently on the bed’s railing. "If you’re awake," he said quietly, his voice directed at her, "you don’t have to pretend, Bella."

Her heart skipped a beat. Did he know? Could he feel the tension radiating from her? She remained still, willing herself not to react.

Clair glanced at Noah, her brows knitting together. "Do you think she is?" she whispered.

Noah shrugged, his eyes never leaving Anabella’s face. "Maybe. Doesn’t matter. We’re not leaving, awake or not."

Anabella’s resolve wavered. Part of her wanted to open her eyes, to let them see her frustration and exhaustion, to finally let someone share the weight she’d been carrying alone. But another part of her—the part that had always shielded her heart from potential hurt—kept her silent, afraid of what might happen if she let her walls crumble.

The room fell quiet again, the only sounds the faint beeping of medical equipment and the muffled voices of hospital staff outside the door. Clair leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she watched Anabella with a mixture of concern and determination.

"Whenever you’re ready, Bella," she said softly. "We’re not going anywhere."

Anabella swallowed hard, her throat dry and aching. For now, she would stay silent, but she knew she couldn’t keep up the act forever.

______

Minutes stretched into what felt like an eternity for Anabella. She could feel every second ticking by as she remained in her self-imposed limbo, torn between revealing she was awake and pretending to sleep just a little longer.

Clair and Noah’s presence, though comforting in their silent vigil, only heightened her anxiety. How could she possibly explain why she hadn’t greeted them the moment they entered? How could she justify her need to pretend?

She kept her breathing steady, forcing herself into stillness even as her thoughts spiraled. Each time she thought about stirring, about facing her friends, another wave of doubt crashed over her. Maybe it wasn’t the right moment.

Maybe she should wait a little longer. Maybe if she waited long enough, they would leave, sparing her the inevitable confrontation.

But they didn’t leave. Clair occasionally shifted in her chair, her soft sighs and murmured words filling the silence. Noah remained a steady presence, his calm demeanor making her feel simultaneously safe and on edge.

Every now and then, she felt the weight of their gazes, as if they could sense her inner turmoil even without her saying a word.