Filed to story: Seventeen Heartbreaks: When Love Has No Voice
“The doctor warned us Brysen’s really not stable right now. It’s critical you keep your distance for now. And look at your hand. It’s seriously injured. Come on. Let’s get you some medical attention.”
Despite his plea, Leila gently shrugged off Clayton’s supporting arm, ignoring the blood that seeped from her wound, coloring her hand a vivid crimson. Determinedly, Leila approached Brysen’s side once more.
With the sedative taking effect, Brysen’s agitated sobs had softened, her cheeks glistening with the residue of tears.
Leila, looking down at Brysen’s subdued form remembered Brysen’s usual vibrant and kind demeanor, so full of joy and rarely ever cross. The depth of anguish Brysen had undoubtedly gone through weighed heavily on Leila, stirring a profound sense of guilt within her. She instantly regretted sending Brysen on the mission to locate Landon. Her own stubborn determination had steered Brysen into harm’s way. A cocktail of pain and remorse swirled within her, quickly igniting into fury.
Leila steadied her breathing, her voice uncharacteristically calm as she inquired, “What was the scene like when you stumbled upon Brysen?”
Clayton paused, mentally rehearsing his fabricated explanation.
“It was completely abandoned. They probably got wind of something and fled prematurely. Their initial plan targeted you, but Brysen was caught alone. Perhaps when they couldn’t reach you, they vented their frustrations on Brysen. But don’t fret, Leila. I’ve already informed the police. They’re likely on the trail, piecing together clues. We’ll make certain that Ernesto and Griffin face the consequences.”
Leila caressed Brysen’s hair as Brysen slept peacefully, a mournful smile tinged with a glint of vengeance flickering across her face.
“Thanks. This time, I won’t let them slip through our fingers. I’ll make sure they endure the same torment that Brysen has suffered.”
Collecting herself, Leila rose to dress her own wounds. Clayton remained close, his relief evident as Leila finally took a step forward. Without hesitation, he followed her lead.
Suddenly, Leila halted, a troubling thought flashing through her mind.
“Where is Neal?”
Clayton exhaled heavily…
“He was the first one here this morning. The sight of Brysen in such a state… It was too much. He dashed off, and we’ve lost track of him.”
Leila’s heart sank further, and she turned to Clayton, her voice tinged with concern.
“Send someone to look for Neal. He’s clearly distressed, and in such a fragile state, he might end up in danger.”
Clayton nodded solemnly.
“I’ve observed the bond between them. Neal isn’t one to abandon Brysen. Perhaps…”
Clayton shifted the conversation.
“Let’s have Neal take care of Brysen,” he said to Leila.
“Keeping Brysen with you might constantly dredge up her old memories, complicating her psychological recovery.”
Clayton’s brow creased with worry.
“The doctor has diagnosed Brysen as being in a fragile, unstable mental state. Considering you’re already juggling the needs of three kids, this situation could become overwhelming.”
Leila’s expression tightened, concern coloring her features.
“But I’d feel more secure knowing Brysen is under my own roof, where I can watch over her.”
Clayton, seeing her unease, continued to coax gently.
“I get that, Leila. However, Neal has a genuine connection with Brysen. Perhaps his presence might actually speed up her healing. It’s worth considering, don’t you think?”
Leila mulled over his points and found logic in his words. Still, her worries gnawed at her.
Just then, the door creaked open, and the doctor stepped through.
Leila approached the doctor swiftly, her voice laced with anxiety.
“Can you tell me how she’s doing? Is it really that bad?”
The doctor’s nod was grave.
“The patient is wrestling with a tumultuous mental state, compounded by severe physical injuries. Luckily, her life isn’t in danger at the moment. She’s completely shut herself off, refusing all communication. A secluded, tranquil environment would be ideal for her, a place to heal without reminders of her trauma. The fewer the faces from her past around, the better her chances of a swifter recovery.”
The doctor paused, weighing his next words carefully.
“Given her precarious state, she’s like a ticking time bomb. It’s unpredictable what might set her off.”
Leila felt a tightness in her chest, her eyes quickly misting over.
“I understand. Thank you so deeply for your care,” she said, her voice trembling.
The doctor exhaled a weary sigh and turned to depart. Right then, Neal burst in. His eyes were bloodshot and brimming with tears. Collapsing to his knees before Leila, he clasped his hands together in earnest.
“Leila, I’m begging you, let me take Brysen under my wing. I’ll look after her with all I’ve got. I’ve mulled it over. I don’t mind her suffering. My love for her is real, and it’s because I love her that I need to be by her side.”
Leila watched as tears streamed down Neal’s face, and she let out a gentle sigh.
“Neal, it’s not that I’m unwilling, but you’re just partners, not spouses. If one day you find someone who captures your heart, neither Brysen nor I will hold you to this. Brysen loathes being a burden. You might think this is for the best, but she could wake up feeling overwhelmed by guilt and sorrow. I can’t let that happen.”
Neal bit down hard on his lip, and his resolve hardened.
“Then I’ll marry her. I vow here and now that if I fail her, you can dismiss me and let me face the dire consequences.”
“But I must remain by Brysen’s side.”
An astonished breath escaped Leila as she stared, awestruck, realizing the lengths Neal was prepared to go. The intensity of his commitment left her both surprised and strangely moved.
A wave of unease washed over Leila as she recalled her previous suspicions and harsh judgments of Neal. Leila hesitated and then cautiously suggested, “Why don’t we wait for Brysen to get a bit clearer-headed and let her decide for herself?”
A shadow of discontent briefly clouded Neal’s features, yet he acquiesced with a reluctant nod.
Over the next three days, as they lingered in the sterile white of the hospital, Brysen’s mental fog began to lift markedly. Her earlier frantic demeanor had subsided, replaced by a solemn stillness. She now spent her hours in silent contemplation, seated next to her bed, withdrawing from food and conversation alike.
Her newfound wariness around new faces, particularly those of unfamiliar men, became pronounced. Driven by a protective instinct, Leila made the decision to swap all the male staff with female caregivers, aiming to create a safer, more comforting environment for Brysen.
The scars on Brysen’s face, deep and jagged, spoke of wounds too profound to ever fully mend. Though the caregivers kept their concerns unspoken, their hushed conversations behind closed doors painted a different picture.
Caught in a haze, Brysen often seemed unreachable, barricading herself within her own mind. Still, she wasn’t a fool. She could see through the words and understood exactly what was being implied.
Leila stumbled upon the scene just as Brysen was aggressively assaulting a caregiver. If Leila hadn’t intervened when she did, Brysen could have escalated to using a knife.
Leila swiftly intervened, pulling Brysen into her embrace. Brysen’s body shook uncontrollably, her eyes a swirling mix of fear and rage, resembling a cornered animal in distress.
Leila soothed Brysen, stroking her back and whispering, “It’s okay. I’m right here.”
Gradually, Brysen’s trembling subsided, though her grip on Leila’s hand remained iron-tight, like a shipwreck survivor clutching at a lifeline.
Meanwhile, the caregiver, her face smeared with blood, struggled to her feet. Seeing Leila, she saw an opportunity to express her ordeal and began to sob uncontrollably.
“I know she’s under care, but being a patient doesn’t give her a free pass to kill. Look what she did to me. If you hadn’t shown up, I might have been dead.”
Leila directed Brysen to sit quietly to the side before turning to address the caregiver with a cold stare.
The caregiver, a woman in her forties, had a look that suggested shrewdness and bitterness. Recently, Leila had caught wind of rumors that someone had been slandering Brysen. She had been preoccupied with handling the Perry family and hadn’t immediately tackled this problem. She never expected these people would dare to bully Brysen.
Leila confronted the displeased caregiver, her voice cold and sharp.
“What have you been whispering about Brysen? I suggest you stick to the truth. If not, I’ll find ways to make you speak.”
The caregiver trembled, still attempting to defend herself.
“Honestly, I barely said anything. She just seems so fragile, like the tiniest comment might shatter her.”