Broken Promises

A dull, throbbing ache pulled her back from the depths of an unsettling void.

Stephanie blinked slowly, her eyelids feeling like lead, and her reddish-brown hair spiraling across the white pillow. Harsh light filtered through the window.

She shielded her eyes, and her fingers brushed against the thin hospital gown draped over her pale skin.

"Where am I?" The thought echoed in her mind.

A hospital room came into focus—a sterile landscape of white walls and medical equipment. The unfamiliar smell of antiseptic and metallic tang lingered in the air.

Panic surged through her as the accident scene replayed in flashbacks; the shattering glass, screeching tires, and the sharp sting of the impact. All of which, led her here. She had been dangerously close to death. All because of a coward who wasn't worth it.

Her gaze drifted to the small window, where she could see the thriving city.

Her amber eyes welled up in silent tears as she thought of her relationship. A decade of love, trust, and dreams destroyed in a moment of pleasure.

"Stephanie, people change. Love changes."

Mirabel's words echoed in her mind. She had warned her, more than once. "You're too loyal, Steph. You give too much, and one day, it might cost you."

She had laughed back then, brushing it off. "He's not like that. He chose me, Mirabel. He had a choice, and he still chose me."

Hadn't he?

Her thoughts spun back to Sarah—the woman who had once openly crushed on him. She had been there the night Sarah confessed her feelings, pouring out her heart like a lovesick teenager. And he had looked at Sarah with nothing but patience before turning to her and saying, "I already have my person."

She had believed him.

Back then, she had felt invincible, untouchable—his choice, his love.

"I don't care if you become rich or poor, Stephanie. It doesn't change what I feel for you."

His voice, deep and steady, played in her head like a broken record. He had said that after her father left, when their world collapsed. She had feared that love could be bought, that security mattered more than emotions. But he had taken her hands in his, looking at her like she was the only thing that mattered. "We'll figure it out together, okay? I'm not going anywhere."

But he had.

A broken sob clawed its way up her throat.

He had promised her forever.

He had promised to wait—to make their first night together something sacred, something meant for their wedding night. She had believed in that promise, in him.

And for ten years, he had been sweet, caring, and patient.

Until he wasn't.

Stephanie curled herself into a ball, her body trembling.

"How do you walk away from a ten-year relationship filled with nothing but sweet memories?"

Tears streamed down her cheeks, soaking the hospital sheets.

She had lost the most precious thing in her life.

She truly wanted to hold it in, to be strong but the pain was unbearable.

"We were supposed to be forever."

Her fingers gripped the sheets tightly.

"How do you erase a love so deeply woven into your existence?"

"How could he do this to us? How could he throw everything away like it meant nothing?"

The air in the room was heavy and depressing.

Then, the door creaked open.

Dr. Ken Bill, a figure with a reassuring presence, clad in white coat, walked in. His movements were deliberate, each step measured, and his observant gaze swept across the room before settling on her. "You're awake."

Stephanie quickly wiped her tears and sat up, leaning slightly on her back. She took a deep shaky breath, trying to steady her heartbeat. Her eyes darted between the doctor's concerned expression and the cold hospital walls around her.

Dr Ken offered a small knowing smile. "Alright, Miss Moore, let's check on you. How are you feeling?" His voice gentle but firm.

Stephanie hesitated. How was she supposed to explain this pain? The emotional wounds hurt more than the physical ones.

"I…" Her voice faltered. She swallowed hard and tried again. "I don't know."

Dr. Ken studied her, his eyes softening with understanding.

"Physically or emotionally?"

Stephanie let out a breath. "Both."

"That's alright," he said reassuringly. "We'll take it one step at a time."

His words were simple, yet they carried a calm promise. And for the first time since she woke up, she felt like she wasn't completely alone in this.

Stephanie gave a weak nod, exhaustion settling over her like a heavy blanket. Dr. Ken checked her pulse.

"You have a mild concussion and a few bruised ribs, but you're lucky, Miss Moore. It could have been much worse," he said, scribbling something onto his clipboard.

A bitter smile grazed her lips. Lucky? She didn't feel lucky.

Dr. Ken glanced at her, as if sensing the turmoil brewing beneath her quiet demeanor. "Recovery isn't just about the body, Stephanie. If you need to talk to someone, I can arrange that."

She shook her head. "I'll be fine."

The doctor didn't press. Instead, he offered a small nod before stepping back. "Alright, I'll check on you later. Try to get some rest."

Then, as if remembering something, Dr. Ken glanced at his notes again. "By the way, you weren't alone when they brought you in."

Stephanie's perfectly sculpted eyebrows drew in together. "What?"

"A man was brought in with you," Dr. Ken explained. "He wasn't in your contact list, nor was he the driver. The man didn't have any identification on him at the time."

Stephanie stiffened. "A man?" She didn't remember anyone else being there except the cab man. "Who is he?"

Dr. Ken sighed, choosing his words carefully. "We're still trying to determine that. He was in critical condition when they admitted him—severe injuries, but he pulled through the night."

Stephanie's breath caught in her throat. A stranger?

"I just checked on him before coming here," Dr. Ken continued. "He's stable, but unconscious."

Stephanie's fingers curled into the sheets. She had no idea who he was, yet their fates had somehow intertwined in that wreck.

"Was he in another car?" she asked hesitantly.

"No," Dr. Ken said. "He was the owner of the parachute."

Her heartbeat quickened. The parachute. How could she forget? The very cause of the crash.

"So… we crashed into him?" she whispered.

Dr. Ken hesitated before nodding. "It appears so."

A heavy silence settled between them.

Stephanie's gaze dropped to her lap, her mind spinning.

"He survived," Dr. Ken reassured her, sensing the turmoil creeping into her expression. "We'll know more once he wakes up."

Stephanie swallowed hard, unsure of what to feel. She should be happy that he wasn't spared either.

"Excuse me, Dr Ken. What about the driver?" Her voice was laced with worry.

**She didn't know him, but he seemed like a good guy. At least he had cared to ask about her the night before, when he had seen her in tears.

Dr Ken paused mid-step, turning back to her. "Ah, yes. I almost forgot. He was here earlier to see you but you were unconscious."

Stephanie blinked in surprise. "He was?"

Dr. Ken nodded. "And your mother too—she stayed all night but left not long ago."

Dr. Ken took a step toward the door. "Okay, I'll check on you later. Try to rest."

Stephanie let out a slow breath, staring at the ceiling, her thoughts drifting aimlessly without an anchor.

******