Dear Ex-wife Marry Me novel (Maja) novel Chapter 1381

In the hospital hallway, Maja sat as still as a statue, her gaze fixed on the sterile doors through which Ian had disappeared. Three agonizing hours crawled by before he was finally wheeled out, looking pale but alive.

The doctor, a mask dangling from his fingers, reassured her, "It's a close call, but the bullet missed his heart by a good margin."

Her heart, which had been hovering in her throat, plummeted to relief. Maja collapsed by his bedside, her tears flowing freely as she clung to his hand.

Ian's line of work was not one that allowed for lengthy hospital stays. As soon as it was clear he was out of immediate danger, he was discreetly transferred back to the underworld's infamous seventh layer, where the gritty fight club he managed was located.

Maja never left his side, her vigil unending.

Nydia, a fellow fighter, attempted to visit, but one glance at Maja's steely eyes sent her retreating into the shadows.

Had Maja always possessed such formidable presence? Nydia wondered, though she dared not step forward again.

Maja caressed Ian’s hand against her cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin. Though the anesthesia was still dulling his senses, Ian was aware.

He knew the gamble he had taken was unfair to Maja. To watch one's love fall, as the psychologist had suggested, could strip away layers of the mind, potentially snapping her from the trance she had been caught in.

He was always a gambler.

And this time, it seemed, he had won.

As Maja's tears fell on his hand, Ian longed to comfort her, to wipe them away, but his body failed him.

For two days, he lay in recovery, with Maja blocking the doorway to any who tried to enter. Her stance was unwavering, her gaze enough to silence even the most insistent visitor.

On the morning of the third day, Ian's eyes fluttered open. His chest ached where the bullet had lodged, a stark reminder of the price paid.

He looked pale, the effort to sit up painting his features with discomfort. When his eyes met Maja's, there was a trace of guilt in his gaze.

If she was truly awake, she must have pieced together that this had been his plan all along.

Now that he was awake, Maja tended to him with a quiet diligence, speaking little else.

At night, she clung to his hand, a slight stir from him would jolt her awake for frantic checks to ensure he was neither feverish nor facing new danger.

This repeated until Ian realized that although Maja was conscious, the fear of losing him haunted her relentlessly.

The moment he was out of sight, she would need constant reassurance of his existence, of his survival.

The weight of such fear was suffocating for them both.

Sometimes, the pain of deep love is more terrifying than indifference. Once crossed, every bullet aimed at a lover feels like a cannon firing back at oneself.

Ian had nearly lost half his life, but for Maja, it was as if her entire existence had almost slipped away.