I was sitting by Rachel’s bed, holding her hand, lost in a mix of emotions that I couldn’t put into words. Rachel’s confession still weighed heavy on my heart, but right now, all that mattered was that she was here, alive, and safe for the moment, at least.
Suddenly, the door burst open, and Harrison rushed in, his face pale, eyes wide with worry as they landed on Rachel. He didn’t even seem to notice me at first; his gaze was locked on her, filled with such intense concern that I felt a strange sense of comfort. He cared about her really cared.
“Rachel!” he breathed, his voice raw, almost breaking. He moved quickly to her bedside, dropping into the chair on her other side, reaching out to take her hand. “Are you… are you okay?”
Rachel managed a faint smile as she looked up at him. “Harrison… you came.”
“Of course, I did. I was so worried when I heard.” His grip on her hand was gentle but firm, like he couldn’t bear the thought of letting go. “I thought I’d lost you,” he murmured, and I saw his shoulders tense as he struggled to control his emotions.
Watching him, I felt a strange mixture of gratitude and sadness. Harrison’s concern was genuine, and seeing someone else care about Rachel so deeply made me feel less alone, even in the midst of everything that had happened.
Rachel squeezed his hand weakly. “I’m still here. It’s… it’s been a lot, but I’m here.”
Harrison’s eyes darkened with a flash of anger as he took in her pale face and the bandage on her arm. “Rachel, who did this to you?” His voice was firm, but I could hear the pain beneath it. “I need to know. I won’t let them get away with it.”
Rachel’s face tightened, and she looked away. “Harrison… it’s complicated. It’s… it’s over now.”
“It doesn’t matter how complicated it is,” he insisted, his voice rising a little. “You shouldn’t have to go through this. No one should have hurt you like this.” He paused, seeming to remember himself, and his voice softened. “Rachel, please. I just want to help.”
I watched the exchange in silence, my heart aching for both of them. Rachel looked so small, lying there with Harrison by her side, so helpless and vulnerable. I knew there were things she wasn’t saying, truths she was holding back, but I couldn’t blame her. Some wounds went deeper than words, and I could see that in her eyes.
Rachel turned back to him, her gaze softening. “Thank you, Harrison. For being here.” Her voice was barely a whisper, but the gratitude was clear.
They sat there, Harrison’s hand still holding hers, as a heavy silence filled the room. I felt like an outsider, but it didn’t bother me. I was grateful that Rachel had someone who cared for her so deeply like I do.