An Accident

A few minutes after Tristan left his room, Raphael cursed loudly and threw whatever was on his desk. Annoyance soared through him when Tristan didn't give him the slightest pause, let alone a chance to speak.

Raphael had predicted that this event would happen. However, he didn't expect that Tristan would know so quickly. Everything was entirely beyond Raphael's expectations.

Picking up the collection of photos of himself and Gracia on the table, Raphael felt hurt. The sadness he had tried to bury deep seemed to come back to the surface, forcing him to remember again.

As he rubbed one of the photos, the memory fragments he had been holding tightly to himself evaporated to the surface. Continuing to stare at Gracia's image, Raphael muttered to himself.

"Gracia... why did you have to leave me first? Do you know, I'm lonely without you?"

For a moment, Raphael seemed to be repeatedly sighing and trying to normalize his emotions so that the chest pain that often attacks him doesn't recur as usual. No, that can't happen this time.

"You should have taken me out with you yesterday, Gracia. I feel crazy in this world without you."

Raphael closed his eyes tightly. Without feeling the tears fall down his cheeks. After years of harboring his love for Gracia, until this moment, that feeling has not faded, let alone diminished in the slightest.

For Raphael, the biggest mistake in his life was leaving Gracia. The consequences are fatal, even if only for a short time. The woman he loved was even snatched away by his own best friend. For that, Raphael was determined that he would not want to repeat the same stupidity this time. He swore that whatever it was that already belonged to him should not be taken by someone else.

"I must quickly finish and end all of this, Gracia." While staring at the photo in his hand, Raphael muttered emphatically. Seconds later, the man took his cell phone from his trouser pocket. Hurry up to contact someone out there.

"Fabio, follow Tristan wherever he goes. I'm sure the kid won't be coming home tonight. Keep me posted. Remember! Don't lose track. Do whatever you think you deserve."

Meanwhile, Tristan, who had just left the Foxtail building, immediately started his car, feeling hurt. Steering the wheel, he paused at one of the bars he frequented when he got into trouble or wanted to be alone like now.

He spent hours thinking. Then soon lamented fate. When everything he was doing was in vain, Tristan decided to spend the rest of the time drinking so much whiskey to lighten the load on his mind.

"Sir, this is the sixth glass you've had. I think you should go home now before you finally lose consciousness," one of the bartenders suggested. Seeing Tristan's increasingly chaotic state, he also sympathized. Moreover, Tristan is indeed a customer that he often serves.

"Thanks for your advice. But you don't have to worry about me," Tristan continued to sip the drink in his hand. "I'm used to this. You know what?" Tristan looked up and leaned his face a little. "By drinking a lot, the burden on my head can be reduced a little. The pain I feel can be cured a little."

The Bartender smiled knowingly. That's how it usually is. Almost everyone considers alcohol the only friend when the heart and mind are feeling chaotic. Not a single problem can be solved even if we drink a drum of liquor once.

"What is the most serious problem you are facing right now?" asked the Bartender carefully.

Tristan, while holding his glass, seemed to nod briefly. Looking straight ahead with a blank stare, he then spoke very quietly.

"You know what? I almost went crazy with this problem. Compared to the news of my Papa's death, the news I got this afternoon was more hurtful."

"So that's why you came here and drank a lot?" the Bartender replied.

"Yes." Once again, Tristan nodded. "Imagine, the person you have loved all this time turned out to be a traitor. For some reason, I hate traitors. That's why I chose to stay for a while in this Bar to relieve the pain that has been piling up in my head."

This time the Bartender nodded. While making drinks for other diners, he again tried to persuade Tristan to stop drinking.

"But it's late, sir. Again I suggest you better go home. Especially if you drive your car, I'm afraid you'll lose concentration on the road later."

Tristan smiled. He was touched by the attention the Bartender gave him. Usually, Edward was the one who liked to accompany and nag when he was drunk. But now, he was avoiding him. Poor Tristan.

"Okay, I'll take your advice. Before I go home, give me one more glass."

"But, sir ---"

"Shhh ..." Putting his finger just above his lips, Tristan hissed softly. "Give me what I ask. After that, I promise I'll be home soon."

The Bartender couldn't resist. He took a bottle of Chivas Regal Whiskey, then poured a little into a smoky glass. Then without hesitation handed the drink to Tristan to enjoy.

"Thanks, Dude," said Tristan. The whiskey in his glass ran out without a trace in one gulp. As promised, the man then rose from his seat. Before leaving, he took his wallet and took out a 100-pound bill to give to the Bartender. "This is for you. Take it. Thank you for listening to me complain. You must be dizzy to hear my rambling all this time."

"No need to hesitate, sir," said the Bartender as he accepted the hand of money from his guest.

Without hesitation, Tristan then walked lightly to his parked car in front of the Bar. Stir, he closed his eyes as he thought, where should he go after this. Tristan didn't want to go home because, of course, he did so that he would meet Raphael.

Making up his mind, Tristan chose to go to One Hyde Penthouse to meet Nicholas. He thought this man's apartment was the right place for her to visit tonight for a sleep. Tristan can sleep in a hotel. He only has a friend to talk to when he visits Nicholas. Back home, Edward.

Turning the wheel, Tristan steered his car at high speed towards Knightsbridge. Everything was normal until he crossed the Brompton n Road, and right around Egerton Gardens, a minivan came to a sudden halt. Tristan, who was taken aback, tried to dodge. Turning the steering wheel to the left, unfortunately, the car he was driving swerved and went off the track, hitting the concrete barrier so that it rolled over so hard.

For a few moments, Tristan was still conscious and even had time to ask for help. His fatal wound made him slowly feel weak until he finally lost consciousness.

***

Sophia was half running as she walked down the corridors of The Royal London Hospital. After receiving news that Tristan had a single accident, she immediately followed his husband to ensure his condition.

Once she arrived, Sophia was directed by the medics to go directly to the emergency action unit where Tristan was. There, she even found the whereabouts of Raphael and another man that Sophia didn't know before.

"Uncle..." With a panicked expression, Sophia walked over to Raphael at the front of the room. "What happened?" she asked, confused.

"I don't know, Sophia. Based on the interim examination of the police and medical officers, they reported that Tristan was drunk and probably lost control while driving the car.

"Oh my God." Sophia gaped. She repeatedly shook her head to hear the news that Raphael had to convey. Pointing her feet, Sophia walked away. Approached the emergency room. Through the glass, she could see how the medical team treated her husband, whose clothes were covered in blood.

She and Raphael watched from outside for a long time. Until one of the doctors finally came out and explained.

"Are you guys close relatives of Mr. Tristan?" he asked curiously.

"Yes," said Raphael. "I'm his guardian. And this is his wife," Raphael pointed then to Sophia.

The doctor nodded. He lowered the medical mask he was wearing slightly, then explained something to Raphael and Sophia. "The patient suffered a severe blow to the right side of his chest as seen from the bruises and constriction of blood vessels. In addition, because his legs were caught in the car body, this caused an intolerable open wound to the thigh. Even at this time, the patient is bleeding and needs many blood donors."

Raphael gently massaged his temples which suddenly throbbed in pain. Hearing the doctor's explanation, he believed Tristan's injuries were severe.

"Then what about the blood donation? Is the bloodstock needed adequate? So, did the patient have a broken bone or something?"

The doctor then nodded.

"We have started to transfuse two bags. The rest are still waiting for the medical team to collect them from the blood bank in Santa Marry. Regarding fractures, fortunately, this did not happen to the patient."

"Please do what's best for my husband, Doc," Sophia said. She finally spoke out because she was worried about his husband's condition. "Whatever it is, please let us know the progress and action. What has been done? Please let us know if anything dangerous happens to his condition immediately."

"We will do our best. Don't worry," the doctor replied. Then he went back in for a follow-up.

The whole sequence of events seemed fast to Sophia. From her eyes, she could see how the medical team in the emergency room was working hand in hand to provide intensive action to her husband.

Meanwhile, Raphael himself looked a little frantic. The man, who still looked fit at his age and was no longer young, chose to pace back and forth in front of the room.

He roughly took off his coat and threw it on the waiting chair for a moment. Just then, another doctor came out of the room. The action room spoke briefly with Raphael, then took the man to another place.

A few hours passed just like that. With the remaining strength she had, Sophia seemed to be holding on to continue standing right in front of the mirror of the room. Her blue eyes didn't move one bit from Tristan's figure. Who was lying stiff and almost finished receiving the action? Countless tears had already fallen on her cheeks.

Even though she hates it, Sophia can't deny the love that still resides in her heart for Tristan. It's not easy to forget that man. Even more so after the beautiful night, they had previously.

In her loyalty to waiting for Tristan to undergo medical treatment, from another direction, Edward's figure was getting closer and closer. The man was indeed the first person Sophia told the news about the accident that happened to her husband.

Edward, who was in Birmingham then, was willing to drive the car for 120 miles or about two hours more to approach Sophia and check on Tristan's condition for himself. As soon as he arrived, he immediately ran to find the woman's whereabouts.

"Sophia," Edward called, then threw a hug towards the woman he still loves.

"You are okay?" he asked, still clutching Sophia's body tightly.

"I'm fine," Sophia said weakly, nodding, then breaking their embrace. "But I don't know for sure about Tristan's condition. Doctors have been operating for hours, and until now, there is no update on his progress."

Edward grabbed Sophia's face. Ask the woman to stare fixedly at him. She was trying to calm down so as not to dissolve into chaos. Edward could see how puffy and tired she was waiting from her eyes.

"Tristan will be fine. Your husband is a strong man, Sophia. I'm sure the grim reaper would have thought to take his life many times," Edward comforted with a smile. He didn't want to see the woman he loved so much that he was crying.

"Hopefully, there will be a miracle. I'm afraid something bad will happen to him."

At precisely two o'clock in the evening, the doctor again came out of the room. Sophia, sitting at the time, rushed over to her and asked how her husband's condition was progressing.

"How about it, doc?" he asked impatiently.

The male doctor lowered the glasses he was wearing. He returned to open the medical mask that covered his face, then gave a very careful explanation.

"The team of doctors has succeeded in carrying out the procedure according to the procedure, madam. The bleeding that had occurred has been handled properly. We have stitched open wounds on the thighs. For bruises on several parts of the body have also been treated."

"Thank, God,"

Edward muttered with relief after hearing the doctor's detailed explanation of the action his friend had received.

Meanwhile, Sophia was no less grateful from where she was standing. The thousands of prayers he recited in his heart seemed to have been answered by God.

However, the relief did not last long when Sophia then asked when her husband would be able to regain consciousness.

"We will wait 72 hours from now. If the patient can go through a critical period and is in the recovery stage without the slightest complications, it means that your husband's condition is fine and there is no need to worry. come to his senses."

For the sake of hearing this news, Sophia sat back down in the chair. Her arms immediately went limp as if unable to support her body weight. Feelings of anxiety mixed with fear that had disappeared, now back to clinging to her heart and mind.

"Relax, Sophia." Edward sat down too. He grabbed her wrist and held it tightly. Provide support so that Sophia can continue to be strong in facing all the problems.

"Tristan will be fine. He will surely wake up soon. I am here and will always be with you." "Are you sure Tristan will wake up soon enough?" Sophia asked. The woman's voice was barely audible.

"Of course. I'll bet your husband will wake up soon enough. I'll also whisper in his ear that I'm ready to snatch you at any moment if he doesn't wake up."

Sophia nodded. Even Edward's jokes didn't make her laugh. Realizing that the woman in front of him needed support, Edward immediately grabbed Sophia's head again. Drowning her in his arms, until not long after that, he heard the sound of crying there.