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Chapter 22 - Chapter 22

Outside the ICU, in the quiet waiting area, Clary, Saaz, and August sat side by side, their faces weary but alert.

The moment they saw Bella walking toward them, all three of them stood up at once. Clary was the first to reach her, pulling her into a warm hug, followed closely by Saaz and August. The comfort in their embrace made Bella's eyes sting again.

Saaz gently stroked the top of her head as he whispered, "Dad's okay now. There's nothing to worry about."

Bella pulled back slightly, her voice soft but urgent. "Where's Dada?"

Clary answered, "He's with Dr. Boey. They're discussing Dad's condition."

Ethan, who had just walked up behind Bella, greeted the others with a quiet nod. He shook hands with August, then turned to Saaz. "How's Chief Luke doing now?"

Before Saaz could respond, the doors to the hallway opened and White stepped in.

Bella immediately rose to her feet and rushed to him, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. White embraced her lovingly, resting his chin briefly atop her head.

"Luke is going to be fine," White said gently. "I just spoke with the doctor. They'll keep him in ICU today for observation, and tomorrow he'll be shifted to a regular room."

Bella pulled back and looked up at him, her eyes brimming with unspoken hope. "Dada… I want to see Dad."

White nodded, then looked over at Saaz. "Take her. Let her see him."

Saaz gave a brief nod and gestured for Bella to follow him. Together, they made their way toward the ICU entrance.

Entering the ICU required following strict protocol. Bella was handed a sterilized gown and gloves, and she carefully slipped them on. A mask was secured over her face before she could step into the sterile room.

Saaz stopped at the door. "Go on. I'll wait right here," he said quietly.

Bella nodded and pushed the door open.

Inside, the ICU was eerily silent except for the faint rhythmic beeping of monitors and the soft hiss of machines. The light was dim, sterile. Chief Luke lay on a white hospital bed, still and pale. His eyes were closed. A nasal tube delivered oxygen, and both his hands were connected to monitors and IVs. His lips were dry. His face looked tired—drained.

Bella moved to the chair beside his bed and sat down slowly. For a moment, she couldn't say a word. Her eyes welled with tears that spilled silently down her cheeks.

"Da… Dad…" her voice cracked as she spoke. "Please get better soon. Dada and everyone else—they're all so worried. They act strong in front of me, but I know. I know they're hurting."

She wiped her eyes, but the tears wouldn't stop.

"But I know you," she whispered, her voice full of quiet strength. "You're stronger than this. This bullet can't stop you. You're always my Iron Man."

Then she fell silent.

For a long while, she just sat there, watching him breathe, memorizing the rise and fall of his chest, the slight twitch of his fingers.

Finally, she stood up.

She leaned forward and gently hooked her index finger around his—so soft, so careful—as if even a small touch might break him.

"Dad…" she said softly, "I love you. And I miss you so much. Get well soon."

With that, she stepped back and quietly exited the room.

Inside, Chief Luke remained still for a moment.

But just as the door clicked softly behind her, his eyes fluttered open. Slowly. And as he stared up at the ceiling, a single tear slipped from the corner of his eye, falling silently onto the white pillow beneath him—leaving a faint, wet mark.

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The next day, Chief Luke was finally moved out of the ICU and into a private room.

It wasn't long before people started visiting—first from the West Wing Department, then from other divisions of SID. Throughout the day, there was a constant stream of visitors dropping by to see him, offer flowers, fruit baskets, and well wishes. The room quickly filled with colourful bouquets and the faint scent of fresh lilies, roses, and sunflowers.

This routine continued for nearly a week.

Meanwhile, Bella knew she had to return to the SID Head Office the following week for training. Thanks to Head Ace, she'd been granted an additional two or three days of leave to stay with her father. Officer Ethan, however, had already returned to duty.

Today, Chief Luke had been officially discharged from the hospital and brought home.

The doctor had advised a full month of strict bed rest, and since White was a doctor himself, he had also applied for and received a one-month leave from the hospital to take care of his husband personally.

In the kitchen, Bella was preparing fresh juice for Luke, while Clary sat beside him on the bed, patiently feeding him warm porridge.

Saaz, on the other side of the room, was sitting with White, the two discussing Luke's medication schedule and the dosages prescribed by Dr. Boey.

"Bella," Luke called out, his voice still a bit weak but clear. "Come here, sit down."

Bella placed the juice glass carefully on the side table and walked over to the chair beside his bed. She sat down quietly.

August, who had just entered, took a seat on the couch next to White and Saaz.

Luke reached out and gently took Bella's hand in his.

"Our Bella has grown up," he said softly, a warm, proud smile on his lips. "And what I'm about to say now… I trust you'll understand it."

Bella looked at him curiously, and the room slowly fell silent. Everyone's attention turned to Luke.

He took a breath.

"I want you to get married to Officer Ethan."

Bella's eyes widened, and she stared at her father in surprise. The words hit her like a quiet wave, unexpected and overwhelming. The rest of the room was equally stunned. Saaz looked over at White, who calmly placed a reassuring hand over Saaz's—an unspoken signal of unity and agreement.

Luke continued, his tone steady. "Your Dada and I have talked about this. We both believe that Ethan is the right person for you. We've watched him grow up… he's like a son to us already. In every way, he's perfect for you."

Then, gently, he added, "But nothing will happen without your will, Bella. This is your life. Your choice."

Bella lowered her head, her fingers fidgeting with each other in her lap. She didn't respond—just sat quietly, her thoughts tangled, her heart thudding softly against her ribs.

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