Twisted (Mature)

panic washing over her as she frantically searched for answers. Her eyes fluttered open, and she found herself lying in a hospital bed, the stark white walls engulfing her in a sense of st

as she felt the familiar, comforting weight of her babies. Her heart ached with worry, imagining the worst-case scenarios that plagued her thoughts. Just as her panic began to sett

lurring her vision as she feared for her father's life and the safety of her unborn babies. As if on cue, her husband, Damien entered the room. His eyes filled with concern and love as he rushed to her side. Without a w

er ear. His presence alone brought a sense of calm to Serra, his warmth enveloping her like a protective shield. At that moment, Serra felt the weight of their shared sorrow and f

f need. Damien nodded, his gaze filled with empathy and understanding. “You'll see him, I promise,” he said softly, his voice carrying a determination that resonated deep within Serra's hea

her voice barely audible amidst her grief. Her eyes were swollen from days of crying, her face red from the anguish of losing so many loved ones. The chaos and killing h

y--okay love, let's get you there,” he soothingly whispered, his voice calm yet laced with worry. “Let me arrange for a wheelchair.” Damien's words were met with a fleeting moment of hesitation from Serra, her tear-stained eyes searched Damien's face for reassurance as her desperate plea

He dialed the number for the hospital's main desk, his voice remained resolute and urgent as he identified himself. “Hello ? This is Damien Montgomery,” h

lt as he thanked them, hanging up the phone with a sense of anticipation for the help that was on its way. Turning back to Serra, he approached her with gentleness, his fingers

erves stretched thin with anticipation. Serra's tears continued to fall, her heart heavy with worry and a sense of urgency. Damien wished he had the power to take away her pain and uncertainty, but he knew tha

and Mrs. Montgomery,” the nurse greeted them, her voice gentle and soothing. “I brought the wheelchair as requested. I hope it will make the journey to your father's room more comfortable, Mrs. Montgomery.” Serra managed a grateful nod, touched by the nurse's empathy. Damien's eyes met the nurse's, silentl

avy on Serra's chest. The nurse paused, allowing Serra a moment to collect herself before she gently pushed open the door, revealing the room that held her father's life in its grasp. Serra's heart wrenched as she laid eyes on her father, his frail fra

s bed, her breath catching in her throat. Fighting back tears, Serra reached out a trembling hand, her fingers gently caressing her father's cheek. Her touch was feather-light, as if afraid to disturb

, her connection with her father, was crucial for both her emotional well-being and the well-being of their unborn twins. Time stood still as Serra poured her heart out to her father, h

s tear-streaked face, his voice raspy yet filled with love, “Serra, my sweet girl.” For the briefest of moments, time seemed to stand still as Serra and her father locked eyes. In that intimate exchange, words were unnecessary. The unspoken

ughter. It was a bittersweet moment—a reunion amidst adversity that held a tender promise of hope and determination. After a few precious moments together, Serra's strength began to wane. The taxing emotions an

stood by her side, offering quiet support as he helped her back into the wheelchair. She let go of his hand, promising to return soon, her voice quivering as she started to cry again. The emotions that had been he

r as it was for her. “Your father needs some rest,” Damien whispered softly, his voice filled with tenderness. “And it's crucial that you take care of yourself too.”Serra nodded, finding comfort in Damien's unwavering presence. She longed to stay by her f

compassion, giving her a reassuring smile as they prepared to take her back to her own room. The return journey felt longer than before, every inch of the hospital hallway seeming to

uncertainty. When they reached her room, Serra's tears subsided, but the ache in her heart remained. Damien gently helped her out of the wheelchair, his eyes locked with hers

r your help,” he said softly, his hand gently caressing Serra's silky hair as he spoke. “You made a difficult moment a little easier.” The nurse nodded, her own eyes filled with compassion. “It's my pleasure.” With that, the nurse quie

pered softly, his voice a tender caress. “You need to rest, and I'll be right here.” Serra nodded, her hand instinctively resting on her pregnant belly as she settled back into the hospital b

growing babies. A profound sense of gratitude washed over her, knowing that even in the midst of uncertainty, life continued to bloom within her. Soon, sleep embraced her like a

f their unborn children. After a few moments, once he was certain she had drifted into a deep slumber, Damien gently placed a tender kiss on Serra's forehead, lingering for a moment to savor the love that flowed between them. He watched

verything in his power to ensure she had the peace she deserved. As he closed the door softly behind him, the hushed click echoed in the em

respected the need for rest. The sight tugged at Damien's heartstrings, evoking memories of the moments they had shared as a family. Sitting by his father-in-law's side, Damien offered a soft smile, h

pletely. Damien's smile slowly faded as he leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper as he addressed the sleeping figure before him. “Don't worry, father,” Damien whispered, hi