<b>Chapter </b><b>180 </b>


    Niki’s POV:


    A loud cry rang out, a piercing, heart–wrenching sound that tore me <i>from </i>the grip of a waking nightmare. That same bloody scene once again. Darkness surrounded me as I felt her body against mine, taking bullet after bullet. I could feel the impact, a jarring thud that <i>echoed </i>through my own bones. I felt it–the warm, sticky wetness, her blood, on my hands and against my skin as the blindfold slipped off my face. My head moved to the side, a slow, agonizing turn, to see her head slip <i>onto </i>my own shoulder, her body going limp, the ]fire in her eyes extinguished.


    She had used herself as a fucking meat shield.


    The thought was cold and sickening, a bitter pill that I had to swallow every single day. I felt nauseous, the bile rising in my throat. I pushed myself off the hospital bed, the sheets tangled around my legs, and stumbled into the bathroom. I got down on my knees and retched into the toilet bowl, my stomach heaving, trying to expel the horror that had taken root deep inside of me. I was a man of power, a man of control, but in this moment, I was nothing but a helpless, pathetic human being.


    A gasp escaped me as I took in shuddering, desperate breaths. The sounds of Haider’s crying got louder and louder. I pushed myself up from the hospital bathroom’s toilet, washed my face, my legs shaky, and walked out, putting on a t–shirt. I nced at the clock on the wall. It was three in the morning. He was having a hard time sleeping again.


    As I entered back into the room, I realized the lights had been turned on and someone had already entered. My eyesnded on Beatrix. “Mom? When did you arrive?” I questioned, my voice a hoarse whisper. She was holding Haider. She looked at me up and down, her eyes full of a quiet, worried concern. She looked weaker now. Her eyes clearly had bags under them, dark bruises, like it had been ages since shest slept well.


    But that wasn’t out of the ordinary. It had been the case for all of us the past four months. Four months since Elena had been in aa. Four months since I had been living in a waking nightmare, a constant, unrelenting hell of guilt and pain. Four months of watching the love of my life, the woman who had brought light and color back into my world, lie in a bed, sustained by machines. Four months of watching my son cry for a mother who couldn’t hold him.


    I moved to make Haider’s form. She sat down on the bed, her movements slow and weary.


    “Just a while ago. You don’t look like you’re getting any sleep. And I thought things would have gotten better with him as time went on, but he only seems to be getting more restless.” She said, looking at Haider, a small bundle in her arms, who hupped again as she patted his back.


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    His eyes were red and his cheeks puffy. I pursed my lips, swallowing down the lump in my throat. As time passed by, we only seemed to be losing more hope, more faith. The doctors had been kind, but their words were empty, their promises hollow.


    “Niki. Have you thought about what I said yesterday?” She asks, her <i>voice </i>soft and gentle. My chest tightened. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t want to face it.


    When I didn’t answer, she spoke again, her voice a little more insistent now. “Niki… I think of you as my son. You’re the father of my grandchild. You know I want the best for you, right? <i>You </i>need to go to therapy.” She said, her words quiet and firm. I clenched the feeder, my hands shaking as I turned


    and walked to her.


    She handed Haider to me, who was sucking his thumb as his eyes met mine. They were so <i>like </i>Elena’s, a deep mossy green that was full of a quiet, stubborn light. I put him on myp as I pushed the nipple


    of the feeder into his mouth.


    “Mom. I know. But I… don’t have time for it. I am fine. I can handle it. I have Haider to take care of.” I


    said. I was a liar. I wasn’t fine. I felt broken, like someone had shattered me with a hammer. But I


    couldn’t admit it.


    She sighed, with disappointed and resignation. “That’s what you’ve been doing for the past four months. Your life is all work and taking care of the baby. I’m not saying you’re not doing enough…. but if you keep doing this to yourself, then you’ll end up in the hospital bed right next to Elena. Then who will take care of Haider?” She finished. I looked at her.


    I hated this. That ever since Elena went into aa, she’d been hovering around me, a constant,forting presence that was a painful, bitter reminder of my failure. She was constantly making me feel like for the first time in my life that I actually had a mother.


    It felt like I was taking something from Elena. Hadn’t I already taken enough from her?


    I felt like I was the bane of her existence, a cursed thing that only brought her pain and suffering. For the first time in my life, I regretted reaching out to her. epting her proposal. Maybe if I hadn’t, then she wouldn’t have been bound by my lies and had gotten trapped in this quagmire. She would have been safe, a silent, happy memory in my mind, but at least she would have been alive and whole.


    Because of me she was in aa/Because I’d been careless. I hadn’t taken care of her and protected her like I’d promised. Instead, she’d ended up taking the bullet for me.


    “I won’t. I promised her that I’d protect Haider with my life. So I’ll spend the rest of my life keeping that promise.” I said. And she went silent, her eyes on me, a deep, knowing look in them.


    “Niki. Elena… is my daughter. My one and only daughter, and the first person I had ever loved


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    wholeheartedly. I know her tendencies and I know how reckless and headstrong she is. I also know how resilient she is. She….will wake up. I know she will. But if you give up hope and end up like this…..


    then she will be very upset.” She said, her voice low.


    I clenched my fists. That again. She’d been saying that the night the doctors said that Elena had gone into aa. She hadn’t shed a single tear in front of me. Only saying that she’ll be fine and she’ll wake up.


    But she didn’t know that I’d seen her cry. Sitting in the hospital room Elena had stayed in, while holding Haider to her chest, she’d cried. All night. Silent, choked sobs that wracked her body.


    How was I supposed to believe her? She wasn’t even her birth mother… was there really that strong of a bond between her and Elena? What if she’s wrong? What if one day we get told that instead of


    waking up, she passed away?


    What will I do then?


    No. I didn’t think I could give myself such hope. But inside… a stupid part of me, the one praying for death, anticipated her waking up. And wished that she’d call out to me. I wanted to hear her calling


    out my name.


    Like she used to. I wanted to hear it again. I wanted to see her smile with her dimples showing. God….please.


    B