Blake’s gentle blowing stopped abruptly. His grip tightened, and he slammed the bowl onto the table. His eyes, full of emotion, focused on Bianca’s pale face. He took a deep breath and said, “Is that all you want to know? Is my only job to give you updates?”
“Blake…” Bianca looked at him in surprise, having never seen him so angry. She couldn’t understand what had upset him.
She remembered how Blake had helped her and her mother escape. Realizing she had forgotten to thank him, she felt guilty and quickly said, “Blake, thank you for saving us. I…”
“Your thanks? That’s not what I want to hear,” Blake interrupted her and raised his voice slightly before sitting down next to her.
After a brief pause, Bianca couldn’t hold back the questions racing through her mind.
“Blake, it was such a dangerous situation. Why did you go inside? Do you realize how close we were to losing our lives? If anything had happened to you, I would have felt guilty forever.”
Blake looked at her, his eyes filled with deep intensity.
“I did it because I couldn’t stand the thought of something happening to you. I would risk my life for you.”
Bianca looked away and whispered, “But… we’re just friends, right?”
Blake gave a half-smile. “So what? As your friend, I didn’t hesitate to save you. Meanwhile, your boyfriend did nothing while you were in danger. Do you really think he cares about you?”
Bianca felt a sharp pang in her heart. She lay there, unable to respond, feeling the sting of his words.
Still, she wasn’t ready to accept it. She met his gaze and defended, “Waiting for the firefighters was the sensible thing to do. I acted without thinking.”
Blake, visibly upset but trying to mask it with a smile, replied, “Sensible? Since when does love follow logic? What if he had been trapped in the fire? Even if you see the need for being rational, would you have stayed outside waiting for help?”
Bianca was at a loss for words. She knew she would have rushed in without hesitation, just as she did when saving her mother earlier.
“Blake, what are you trying to say?” Bianca asked, feeling overwhelmed and confused.
“I mean to say…” Blake began, but he was interrupted when the door swung open.
Both turned to see Dave standing in the doorway, watching them.
Blake’s brow furrowed in annoyance.
Blake couldn’t believe Dave had the nerve to show up.
Dave walked over to the bedside table, staring at the hot porridge and clutching the bag he was carrying.
Blake glanced at the bag and said coldly, “Bianca should only have plain porridge. Didn’t you know?”
Bianca quickly intervened, “Blake, stop.”
Blake sighed as he looked at Bianca in bed. “I need to take care of something. You two talk.” Then he left the room.
After Blake was gone, Dave placed the bag on the bed and sat next to Bianca. He stayed quiet as he checked on her and noticed a bruise under her arm.
He took out the ointment he had brought and gently applied it to her bruise, focusing hard to avoid hurting her.
Once he finished, he carefully set the ointment aside, helped Bianca sit up against the headboard, and picked up the bowl of porridge from the bedside table. He tasted it first to make sure it wasn’t too hot before feeding it to her.
Bianca watched him quietly, struggling to understand how Dave, who seemed to care so much about her, could appear so distant, just as Blake had described.
“Why aren’t you saying anything?” Bianca asked, ignoring the spoonful of porridge he offered.
Dave paused, his face showing a mix of emotions. He put the spoon down and looked away. “I’m not sure what to say, so I’ve been quiet. I’m just relieved you’re okay.”
Bianca tilted her head, gently cupping his face to make him look at her. “You don’t have to say anything. I can see you’re worried about me.”
Dave’s chest tightened, making him breathless. The guilt he felt was overwhelming, and her words made him feel even worse.
He realized he didn’t deserve Bianca’s love.
“Bianc…” he tried to speak, but Bianca interrupted him. She cradled his face in her hands and silenced him with a gentle kiss.
Her actions spoke louder than words. She knew he wasn’t the person Blake described. He wouldn’t…
But Dave gently pushed her away, resting his hand on her shoulder.
Dave avoided her questioning look as he stirred the porridge and said, “Eat now, or it’ll get cold.”
Bianca kept her eyes on him, noticing that he seemed different after the fire, almost like he was purposely avoiding her.
‘But why?’
“Dave…”
Just as Bianca was about to speak, the door burst open, and the Doctor walked in, heading straight to her bedside.
“Miss Scott, how are you feeling today?”
The Doctor had been closely monitoring Bianca’s condition, which led to frequent check-ups by different doctors.
Bianca replied softly, “I’m not feeling any discomfort.”
The Doctor listened to her, then checked her with his stethoscope. After a nod, he said, “Everything looks good. You should be able to leave the hospital in a few days.”
“Thank you, doctor,” Bianca said, then quickly asked, “And my mother… Madison Lopez, how is she doing?”
The Doctor’s face became serious as he glanced at the medical records. While writing notes, he said casually, “Just focus on resting. Once you’re better, you can visit her.”
Bianca felt a surge of anxiety at his tone.
Leaning in, she grabbed the Doctor’s coat sleeve, her voice filled with pleading. “Doctor, please, what’s wrong with my mother? I feel fine; I need to see her now!”
As Bianca started to push back the covers to get up, Dave gently held her shoulder and said, “Bianc, listen to the Doctor. Take it easy!”
Tears filled Bianca’s eyes as she looked at Dave, her voice shaking. “She’s my mother, the one I’m closest to. I need to know what’s happening with her.” Turning to the Doctor, she pleaded, “Doctor, I have to know. As her daughter, I deserve to know, no matter what it is.”
The Doctor took a deep breath, closed his notebook, and faced Bianca. “Your mother has suffered irreversible brain damage from too much smoke inhalation. She’s still unconscious.”
Bianca pressed on, “When will she wake up? A week, a month, a year?”
The Doctor hesitated, his lips tightening as he thought about his answer. Finally, he said, “It’s hard to say. It could be a year or two, but there’s also a chance she may never wake up.”