Reborn: The Duke's Obsession-Chapter 282 - Two Hundred And Eighty Two

Delia ran. She ran through the long, sunlit hallway, her heart pounding a frantic, hopeful rhythm against her ribs. The scattered groceries, the half-formed questions, the strange, happy energy of the house—it all disappeared, replaced by a single, all-consuming focus on the door at the end of the corridor.

"Slow down, Delia!" Amber called out, running behind her, her own face a mess of happy tears and laughter.

But Delia wasn't listening. She reached the heavy oak doors of the master bedroom and pushed one open, the wood cool against her trembling hands. She stopped abruptly in the doorway, gasping for breath, her entire world narrowing to the scene before her.

He was awake.

Eric was sitting up in bed, propped against a mountain of pillows. He was pale and thinner than she had ever seen him, but he was awake. His eyes, no longer clouded and distant, were open, clear, and focused directly on her. The doctor stood beside the bed, listening to Eric's chest with a stethoscope. As their gazes met across the room, a weak but undeniable smile touched Eric's lips.

That smile was the single most beautiful thing Delia had ever seen. It was the sunrise after the longest, darkest night of her life. The dam of her emotions, held back by a fragile wall of desperate hope for two long months, finally burst. A choked, strangled sob escaped her lips. She sniffled, bringing her gloved hand up to her mouth to muffle the sounds, her body shaking with the force of her relief.

Amber, who had caught up to her, was crying freely behind her, her own hands pressed to her heart. She looked from Eric's weak smile to Delia's shaking form and knew this was a moment that belonged only to them. With a final, watery sniffle, she quietly stepped back out into the hallway and pulled the door closed, giving the couple some time alone.

Delia stood by the door, unable to move, her legs weak with a relief so profound it felt like a physical weight. She simply watched, her tears tracing clean paths through the grime on her cheeks, as the doctor finished his examination.

When he was done, he picked up his bag and walked towards Delia, a kind, warm smile on his face. "His Grace is out of danger," he said, his voice a balm to her frayed nerves. "The fever is gone, and his wounds are healing nicely. He is still very weak, of course, but he has finally turned a corner. My daily visits will be reduced, too. Now, the most important medicine for him is rest, good food, and happiness." He looked at her, his eyes full of a gentle understanding. "Take care of yourself, and him too, Your Grace. I'll be back next week to check on his progress."

"Thank you, Doctor," Delia managed to say, her voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for everything."

He left, and now, for the first time in two agonizing months, they were truly alone together. The room was filled with a beautiful, heavy silence. Eric spoke, his voice weak and raspy, but it was the most wonderful sound she had ever heard.

"Where did you go," he said, a small, teasing smile playing on his lips, "leaving me all alone?"

Delia sniffed, a sound that was half-sob, half-laugh. She walked slowly towards the bed, as if in a dream. "It's not fair," she replied, her voice trembling.

He watched her approach, his eyes full of a deep, unwavering love. "What?" he whispered.

"I haven't left your side in two whole months," she said, her lower lip trembling. "I leave for just a few minutes, and you decide to come back then? You couldn't even wait for me?"

Eric let out a weak chuckle, the effort causing a slight wince of pain. "Teasing you," he said, his voice gaining a little of its old, playful roughness, "and giving you a hard time… is the greatest joy of my life."

Her own laughter, bright and watery, mixed with her tears. "You are so mean," she cried, finally reaching his bedside.

"Come here, my love," he whispered, holding out a weak hand to her.

Delia didn't need to be told twice. She carefully sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over, enveloping him in a gentle, desperate hug. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, her cries intensified, a release of all the fear, all the pain, all the lonely nights of praying. He was warm. He was real. He was here.

His hand, still weak, came up to pat her hair, his fingers tangling in the soft strands. "I'm back," he murmured into her hair.

Delia raised her head to look at him, her face a beautiful mess of tears and joy. "Yes," she said, her voice full of a wondrous certainty. She reached up and gently caressed his face, her thumb tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the unfamiliar stubble there. "You did good," she whispered, her voice full of pride. "You fought so hard. You did so good. I'm so proud of you." She hugged him again, a softer, more reverent embrace this time, holding her husband, her hero, her world.

In a matter of time, once the doctor had declared it was okay for him to have visitors, the quiet sickroom was filled with the warm, happy presence of family. Lyra, Dowager Duchess Elena, and Amber gathered around Eric's bed, their faces alight with a relief so profound it was almost tangible.

"Oh, my goodness. I am so happy you are awake, my dear boy," Elena said, her usual formal demeanor completely gone. She held his hand in both of hers, her eyes shining with tears.

Eric smiled at his grandmother. "I am happy to be awake."

She turned to Delia, who stood by the bed, her hand resting protectively on Eric's shoulder. "Thank you, child," Elena said, her voice full of a deep, sincere gratitude. "For everything. For nursing him back to health. You saved him."

"It's my duty, Grandmother," Delia replied softly, though her heart swelled at the praise. "He is my husband."

Lyra held Eric's other hand, her touch gentle, her eyes filled with a mother's overwhelming love. "You did good," she said, echoing Delia's earlier words. She reached up and caressed his hair. "My sweet, brave boy." The simple, loving words conveyed a world of relief and pride, a final, peaceful end to a family's long and terrible ordeal.