Chapter 2 THE WAITING

POV: Alex

I had never hated a hospital corridor until that night.

The white walls, the fluorescent lights, the smell of disinfectant. Everything about the place made me feel trapped. I couldn't see Lana. I couldn't reach her. I couldn't do a damn thing except wait for someone to tell me whether the woman I loved was going to live.

I paced from one end of the corridor to the other, turned, and did it again.

My trainers squeaked against the polished floor.

I stopped outside the operating theatre and stared at the closed doors.

Please, Lana. Please.

The last thing I'd seen was blood spreading across my shirt. My shirt, the one she'd borrowed that morning. She'd pulled it on without thinking anything of it, walking around our house as though she'd always belonged there.

Now I couldn't stop seeing it soaked in blood.

I pressed my palms against my eyes.

This was my fault.

If Cindy had never been part of my life, Lana wouldn't be lying on an operating table. If I'd ended things sooner, perhaps Cindy would never have reached this point. If I'd recognised how far her obsession had gone, I might have protected Lana before it came to this.

But I hadn't.

I'd convinced myself that ending the relationship was enough. I'd thought that once I walked away, Lucinda would eventually accept it.

I'd been wrong.

I stopped pacing and stared at the doors again.

I was supposed to be good at making decisions under pressure. I played professional ice hockey for a living. Every match demanded quick judgement, every mistake carried consequences, and hesitation could cost the team a game.

Yet when it came to the people in my life, I'd allowed things to deteriorate until someone ended up paying for my mistakes.

Lana was paying now.

I remembered the first time I'd met her at The Anchor & Oak.

I'd gone there after a match with no particular plan beyond getting something to drink and escaping the noise that followed me everywhere. Fans, interviews, sponsors, people who wanted a photograph or a piece of my attention. Even on an ordinary evening, being Alex Mercer rarely meant being left alone.

Then Lana had appeared at my table.

She'd taken my order, given me a look when I struggled to decide what I wanted, and moved on to the next customer without a second glance.

She hadn't flirted with me. She hadn't asked about hockey. She hadn't even pretended to recognise me.

I'd found that refreshing.

So I'd gone back.

The second time, I found myself looking for her before I'd even reached the bar. By the third visit, I was inventing reasons to stay longer than necessary.

It hadn't been one grand moment that made me fall for her. It had been the little things.

The way she spoke about her design work with genuine excitement. The way she could laugh at herself without needing anyone's approval. The way she listened when I talked about hockey without treating my career as the most interesting thing about me.

With Lana, I wasn't a player whose next performance needed analysing. I wasn't half of a celebrity couple whose every appearance had to be managed.

I was just Alex.

And somewhere along the way, that had become the person I most wanted to be.

I lowered my hands.

The operating theatre doors remained closed.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out, hoping for an update, but it was a message from my manager asking whether I would be available for a call the following morning.

I stared at it before switching the phone off.

The season could wait. The club could wait. The entire world could wait.

Nothing mattered if Lana didn't come home.

Footsteps sounded behind me.

"Alex!"

I turned to see Gabrielle hurrying towards me, her face pale with worry. She reached me and caught my arms, searching my face as though she might find the answer there.

"What happened?"

I tried to speak, but my throat tightened.

"Alex? Where's Lana?"

I looked towards the doors.

"She's in there."

"Why? What happened to her?"

I shook my head, unable to meet my sister's eyes.

"Lucinda came to the house with a gun."

Gabrielle went still.

"Lucinda? She had a gun?"

I nodded.

"She shot Lana. I tried to stop her, Gab. I swear I tried."

My voice broke.

"I tried to get the gun away from her, but it went off. Lana fell, and I couldn't do anything."

Gabrielle tightened her grip on my arms.

"Is Lana alive?"

"They took her straight into surgery. Nobody has told me anything yet."

I looked down at my hands. I'd scrubbed them in the bathroom until my skin felt raw, but I could still see the blood whenever I closed my eyes.

"I couldn't stop it," I whispered. "I was right there, and I couldn't stop it."

Gabrielle pulled me into a hug.

For a moment, I stood rigidly, unable to respond. Then I clutched her as though she were the only solid thing left in a world that had suddenly become unstable.

"It's not your fault," she murmured.

I pulled away.

"Don't say that."

"Alex-"

"I should have known Lucinda wouldn't accept the breakup. I knew how she could be when she didn't get what she wanted."

"You knew she was controlling. That doesn't mean you could predict she'd bring a gun into your home."

"I should have done something."

"You tried to stop her."

"Not fast enough!"

My voice echoed through the corridor.

A nurse glanced towards us. I lowered my head, ashamed of losing control, but I couldn't make myself care.

Gabrielle waited until I looked at her again.

"Lucinda made a choice," she said firmly. "She chose to bring that gun. She chose to threaten you both. You didn't make those choices for her."

I wanted to believe that. I wanted to accept that there were things I couldn't have prevented.

But every time I pictured Lana falling, I found another decision I could have made differently.

"She's all I can think about," I said.

"I know."

"What if she doesn't wake up?"

Gabrielle's face softened.

"We don't know what's going to happen yet. The doctors are still working on her."

I nodded, though the answer offered little comfort.

Gabrielle glanced towards the nurses' station. Someone called her name from farther down the corridor.

"I need to check on a patient," she said. "I'll come back as soon as I can."

I caught her hand before she could leave.

"Gab, please. If you hear anything..."

"I'll find you."

She squeezed my fingers and hurried away.

I resumed pacing.

Back and forth.

Every time the doors moved, my heart lurched. Every time footsteps approached, I looked up, hoping to see a doctor coming towards me with good news.

Nothing.

At some point, a nurse brought me a cup of water. I thanked her but barely touched it.

I kept thinking about the future Lana and I had discussed.

The house we'd chosen together. The space she wanted for her design work. The ridiculous argument we'd had about where to put the sofa. She'd insisted that the living room needed enough natural light for her to work, and I'd argued that the sofa should face the television.

We'd laughed about it afterwards.

Such ordinary things.

I'd never realised how much I'd come to depend on them.

I checked the clock again. I had no idea how much time had passed since they'd taken Lana through those doors. Every minute felt longer than the one before it.

I couldn't sit still. I couldn't concentrate. I couldn't even finish a glass of water.

All I could do was imagine the worst and beg the universe not to make me live through it.

Then I saw Gabrielle returning.

She wasn't alone.

A doctor walked beside her, holding a clipboard. His expression was serious, and my heart began pounding before either of them reached me.

I stood so quickly that the chair scraped against the floor.

"Doctor?"

He stopped in front of me.

"Mr Mercer?"

"Yes. How is Lana?"

He glanced at Gabrielle before turning back to me.

"I'm afraid I have some difficult news."