The Theater

Ashley’s heart pounded as she ran through the hospital corridors, her legs barely able to keep up with her desperation.

Her breath hitched when she reached the emergency room doors, just in time to see Demitri being wheeled toward the operating theater.

“Demitri!” she screamed, but the stretcher moved too fast, the nurses and doctors working frantically around him.

Her eyes widened in horror as she caught sight of the blood—so much blood. It stained his shirt, his arms, even the gurney he was lying on. His hand dangled lifelessly off the side, and her knees buckled.

A gasp escaped her lips, her entire body trembling. Before she could hit the floor, a nurse grabbed her arm, steadying her.

“Miss, are you okay?”

Ashley couldn’t speak. Her eyes remained fixed on the theater doors that had just closed behind Demitri. “He… he’s going to be okay, right?” she finally whispered, her voice barely audible.

The nurse gave her a sympathetic look. “The doctors are doing everything they can.”

Ashley nodded weakly, stepping back to lean against the wall. Her hands trembled as she covered her mouth, fighting the sob that threatened to escape.

Just then, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the hall. Ashley turned to see a familiar figure rushing toward her.

It was Demitri’s mother.

Her elegant composure was nowhere to be found. Her usually calm expression was replaced with one of sheer panic. Without even sparing a glance at Ashley, she stormed toward the nearest doctor.

“How is my son?” she demanded, her voice breaking. “What happened?”

The doctor sighed, his face grim. “It was an accident. He lost a lot of blood, but he’s in the theater now. We’re doing everything we can. Let’s just pray he makes it through the next few hours.”

“No…” The word escaped her lips like a plea as tears began streaming down her face. “My baby boy… Please, save him.”

Ashley stood frozen, watching the woman’s heartbreak unfold before her. Her own tears started falling as the gravity of the situation hit her once again. Demitri might not make it.

The thought was unbearable.

Demitri’s mother turned suddenly, her eyes locking onto Ashley. For a moment, neither of them said a word. Then the older woman’s expression shifted, a mixture of anger and pain.

“Ashley,” she said, her voice trembling. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you say anything about what was going on between you two? I had to hear it from someone like Elena!”

Ashley flinched, her lips parting to speak, but no words came out.

Demitri’s mother continued, her voice rising. “Do you know how humiliating it was? To find out from a stranger that my son divorced the one woman I thought would keep him grounded? You didn’t think I deserved to know?”

“I’m sorry,” Ashley whispered, her voice breaking. “I didn’t want to burden you with what was happening. I didn’t want to make things worse.”

“Worse?” the woman snapped, her tears falling freely now. “What could be worse than losing you?”

Ashley shook her head, her own tears flowing. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

There was a moment of silence, heavy and suffocating. Then, to Ashley’s surprise, Demitri’s mother stepped forward and pulled her into an embrace.

Ashley stiffened, shocked, but the woman held her tightly, her voice softening. “You should have told me. But I understand why you didn’t. And I’m sorry, Ashley. I’m sorry for everything my son put you through.”

Ashley’s resolve crumbled, and she buried her face in the older woman’s shoulder, sobbing. “I’m sorry too. For everything. I never wanted this to happen.”

For what felt like an eternity, they clung to each other, united in their grief and worry.

Thirty minutes later, the two women sat together in silence, the tension between them dissolved. Ashley wiped her face with a tissue, her heart still heavy with worry.

The sound of footsteps broke the quiet. Both women stood as a doctor approached, his expression unreadable.

“How is he?” Demitri’s mother asked urgently.

The doctor offered a small smile. “He’s out of danger. The surgery went well, but he lost a lot of blood and is still unconscious. We’ve done everything we can for now. The rest is up to him. He needs time to heal and wake up.”

Ashley exhaled deeply, relief washing over her like a wave. She pressed a hand to her chest, muttering, “Thank God.”

But Demitri’s mother wasn’t as composed. She burst into fresh tears, her hands covering her face as she sobbed.

Ashley hesitated before stepping closer, placing a comforting hand on the woman’s shoulder. “He’s strong,” she said softly. “He’ll make it.”

The older woman nodded through her tears, gripping Ashley’s hand tightly. “I hope you’re right. I can’t lose him, Ashley. I just can’t.”