BOOKSDRAMA Chapter 310-4
Angela POV
"Yes," I lied without hesitation. "I'm' his sister." The fabrication came easily-our matching amber eyes making the claim at least
somewhat believable.
The doctor nodded, then took a deep breath, his expression grave. "I'm sorry to tell you this, but despite our best efforts, we
were unable to save Mr. Blake."
The words hit me like a physical blow, forcing the air from my lungs. My knees threatened to buckle beneath me. Beside me,
Sean went rigid, his face a mask of disbelief. David let out a sound somewhere between a gasp and a sob, turning away briefly
to compose himself.
“But..... how?” I managed to ask. "My husband said the wound was on the right side, away from his heart."
"Normally, that would be correct," the doctor explained gently. "The knife appeared to have struck to the right of the sternum,
which would typically miss the heart. However, Mr. Blake had a rare anatomical variation-dextrocardia. His heart was positioned
more toward the right side of his chest than is typical."
"Dextrocardia?" Sean repeated, his voice hollow.
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"Yes, It's an unusual condition where the heart is positioned more to the right than normal. Many people with this condition live
their entire lives without knowing they have it." The doctor's eyes were kind but clinical. "The knife pierced his heart directly. By
the time we realized the unusual positioning, the blood loss was too severe. We did everything we could, but the damage was...
extensive."
I heard the doctor's words, understood their meaning, but somehow couldn't process them. Christopher, dead? It seemed
impossible. He had been there at the wedding, standing tall and protective. He had saved my life. And now...
The doctor nodded. "We've moved him to a private room. You can have a few minutes to say goodbye. I'll have a nurse take you
there."
Sean's grip on my hand tightened. "We'll come with you."
I nodded gratefully, drawing strength from his presence. David joined us, his face etched with grief for the man he had served
loyally for years.
A nurse led the three of us down a quiet hallway to a small room at the end. The harsh hospital lighting had been dimmed here,
casting soft shadows across the walls. Christopher lay on the bed, covered to his chest with a white sheet. Someone had
cleaned his face, but nothing could hide the unnatural stillness, the complete absence of the intensity that had always seemed to
radiate from him.
I approached slowly, each step heavier than the last. He looked peaceful, almost as if he were sleeping. I reached out with
trembling fingers to touch his hand. It was already growing cold.
"You idiot, I whispered, tears finally spilling down my cheeks. "Why did you have to play the hero? Why couldn't you just stay
away like you were supposed to?"
The questions hung in the air, unanswered. Christopher's face remained serene, all the complications and troubles that had
marked his life now smoothed away.
1 sank into the chair beside the bed, still holding his lifeless hand. Memories washed over me-Christopher playing with Aria and
Ethan, teaching them to build sandcastles on the beach; Christopher staying up all night when Ethan had a fever, refusing to
leave
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his side; Christopher standing in the distance, watching me sadly when he thought I wouldn't notice.
For all his faults, for all the pain and confusion between us, he had loved me- loved my children. And in the end, he had given his
"I forgive you," I said softly, the words catching in my throat. "Do you hear me, Christopher? I forgive you."
But there was no response, no sign that he heard. Just silence, and the dull, rhythmic beeping of disconnected monitors.
Christopher Blake was gone.
I don't know how long we stayed there in silence. I clung to Christopher's hand as
if I could somehow pull him back from wherever he had gone.
Beside me, Sean stood with his head bowed, his jaw tight with emotion. Despite their complicated history and rivalry, Sean had
respected Christopher-perhaps even considered him a friend once, before everything fell apart.
David remained by the door, tears streaming down his face for the man he had served faithfully for years.
Eventually, Sean placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. "We should go, Angela,” he said softly.
I nodded, gently placing Christopher's hand back on the bed. As I stood to leave, I leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on his
forehead-a final goodbye to the man who had been my friend, my captor, my protector, and ultimately, my savior.
"Thank you," I whispered. "For everything."
Then I turned and walked away, leaving Christopher to his eternal peace.
In the hallway, David stood leaning against the wall, his face drawn with grief. When he saw us emerge, he straightened, wiping
his eyes quickly with the back of his hand.
"I need to contact his grandfather," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "And make arrangements." He swallowed hard, clearly
struggling to maintain his composure. "You both should go home. The children will be worried."
"David," Sean began, "if you need any-"
"I'll handle it," David interrupted, his voice cracking slightly. "Christopher would have wanted... he would have wanted me to take
care of everything." He looked
at me one last time, his eyes filled with pain. “He loved you, you know. In his own way."
I couldn't find the words to respond. I simply nodded, feeling tears build again behind my eyes.
As Sean led me toward the exit, I glanced back one last time at the room where Christopher lay.
The man who had once been the center of a complicated web of love, obsession, and friendship was gone, leaving the rest of us
to untangle the threads he'd left behind.