The hospital smelled of sterile cotton, antiseptic, and something cold that clung to the walls like a whisper. Loira Darien sat in the corner of the stark white waiting room, her face pale, her fingers laced tightly in her lap, trembling. Keal Darien stood by the window, staring out at the dark parking lot, his reflection etched in glass—haunted and still.
Down the hallway, the doors to the emergency care unit remained firmly shut.
Behind them, three forms lay huddled on the bench.
Sahir, Eliya, and Rivan Jr. had all fallen asleep in a tangle of limbs, exhaustion pulling them under like a tide. Their jackets bunched up under their heads, Rivan Jr. clutching Sahir's hand even in sleep.
Time passed without moving.
Loira wiped her eyes again, her cheeks damp from crying, her body rigid from holding back a thousand screams. Keal turned from the window at last, his voice hoarse.
"Why didn't we see it?"
Loira shook her head slowly. "Because we didn't want to."
The doctor arrived quietly, holding a clipboard and a heavy expression. Loira and Keal rushed to him at once.
"Is he okay?" Loira asked, her voice cracking.
The doctor sighed, flipping through a few pages. "He's stable for now, but weak. Dehydration. Stress. Severe fatigue. And..."
Keal narrowed his eyes. "And what?"
The doctor hesitated. "His blood showed signs of prolonged use of prescription sedatives. Possibly painkillers. Sleeping medication. In quantities higher than recommended. Has he been taking anything?"
Keal and Loira exchanged a horrified glance.
"Not that we knew," Loira whispered. "Not anymore."
"We're moving him to a recovery room. You can see him soon, but he needs time. He's... he's been in a very deep depression for a long time. That kind of emotional weight doesn't go away overnight."
Loira nodded silently, her throat tight.
When they were finally allowed in, the room was dimly lit. Rivan Elisar lay unconscious under crisp white sheets, an IV drip attached to his arm. The paleness of his skin and the faint dark circles under his eyes told stories of sleepless nights, of silent suffering.
Loira stood at one side of the bed, Keal on the other. Wordlessly, they reached out, each of them placing a hand gently over his.
It was the first time in years they had touched him.
"Why didn't he tell us he was suffering like this?" Loira whispered.
"Because he thought he didn't deserve to," Keal answered, his voice low and broken.
They stayed there, not speaking, not daring to move, until the clock passed midnight.
Then something shifted.
A groan.
A twitch of fingers.
His eyes blinked open slowly.
Rivan stared at the ceiling at first, dazed, confused—and then, his gaze found theirs. A single tear slipped from the corner of his eye.
"Loira... Keal..." he rasped.
Loira choked a sob and leaned in. Keal bent forward at the same time. And like the threads of a fabric torn for far too long, they fell into each other's arms.
"I'm sorry," Rivan whispered. "I'm so sorry."
"Stop," Keal said, pressing his forehead to his. "You came back. That's what matters."
"We were fools too," Loira added, tears falling freely now. "We should've tried harder. We should've seen you."
Rivan's arms moved slowly, weakly—but with purpose. He pulled them both to his chest. Loira on his left. Keal on his right. Their heads rested against him, like the way they used to sleep when all three shared a bed and a life. His heartbeat, weak but real, was the only sound in the room.
They stayed like that for a long time. A family broken, finding its breath.
Then the door creaked.
Small footsteps padded in.
The kids had woken up.
Sahir, Eliya, and Rivan Jr. stood in the doorway, sleepy-eyed, messy-haired, still in their wrinkled clothes.
When they saw their parents all huddled together, they didn't hesitate.
Rivan Jr. rushed forward first, launching himself onto the bed.
"Daddy!"
Eliya followed, slipping onto the other side, hugging Loira's arm.
Sahir stood by the foot of the bed, his eyes bright and wet. "You scared us."
"I'm okay now," Rivan said softly, arms opening for them.
And one by one, they came.
All five of them.
Wrapped in each other's arms.
Tears. Apologies. Love.
No more secrets.
Just healing.
Just the beginning of home again.
---
Later that night, as the nurses dimmed the lights and brought in extra chairs, Loira and Keal remained curled up on either side of Rivan. He drifted in and out of light sleep, but each time his eyes opened, they found theirs.
Loira reached over and gently brushed a hand through his hair. "When did you start taking them?"
Rivan swallowed. "The first night I lost you. I thought one pill would help me sleep. Then one turned into two."
Keal leaned down, brushing a hand across Rivan's temple. "Why didn't you come?"
"I tried to find you but I couldn't," Rivan replied softly. "I destroyed everything we had. I thought, I lost you, forever. That you still hated me."
Loira shook her head. "we always loved you. You were always a part of our life."
From the corner of the room, Sahir watched, wide-eyed. He took Eliya's hand and whispered, "They look like they belong there."
Eliya nodded. "They always did. They were just too hurt to see it."
Rivan Jr. had fallen asleep again, curled into the chair closest to the bed, one hand resting over his father's blanket-covered arm.
Keal looked across the bed. "When you're better... we'll figure it out. Not just for the kids. For us."
Rivan blinked slowly. "You'd give me another chance?"
"We never stopped loving you," Loira said simply.
And just like that, through the pain, the pills, the years lost, and the heartache—a flicker of hope returned to the room.
Rivan closed his eyes.
And for the first time in ten years, he slept without fear. Without loneliness. Without pain...
Complete...
With family that he lost ten years ago.