Chapter 439 Finally Understand
Katniss barely ate any dinner.
It was clear that she was distracted and in a very bad state.
Sophia hesitated, wanting to comfort her but afraid she might say the wrong thing.
In her hesitation, Katniss had already gone upstairs with Evie in her arms.
Evie hadn't seen Katniss all day and clung to her for a while.
After putting Evie to sleep, Katniss lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep.
She suddenly realized that she had long been accustomed to having Tristan by her side.
The next morning, Katniss got up early.
When Sophia was about to make breakfast, she saw Katniss coming downstairs all dressed up and hurried to greet her.
"I'll take care of Evie, don't worry. I know you're anxious, but no matter what, taking care of your health is the most important thing. Make sure to eat on time, even if you don't have an appetite."
Katniss nodded and reminded Sophia, "Mom, please keep an eye on Evie. I'll be back in the evening, just like yesterday."
"Is Tristan still in the hospital?" Sophia hesitated and asked Katniss.
Katniss didn't hide it from her, "Yes, he hasn't woken up since the antidote injection."
"Then you should go quickly." Sophia didn't hold her back any longer.
Katniss reached the hospital as fast as she could.
She had fantasized about opening the door and seeing Tristan's smiling face.
But the moment she opened the door, seeing Tristan lying in bed with his eyes closed made her nose sting with sadness.
His finger was still attached to a blood pressure monitor, surrounded by various medical devices.
He still hadn't woken up.
Katniss took a deep breath, walked to the bedside, and pulled up a chair to sit down.
She grabbed his hand, which was ice-cold.
She immediately fetched some water and a towel to warm his hands.
When Emory returned and saw her taking care of Tristan, he frowned, "Why are you here so early? Where's Evie?"
"I can't stop worrying about him," Katniss said while warming Tristan's hands.
Katniss's words weighed heavily on Emory's heart. The antidote should have worked by now.
But it had been ten, twenty hours since the injection, and Tristan still hadn't woken up, nor did he respond to any conversation.
If this continued, it would be truly despairing!
He couldn't find any words to comfort Katniss. After days of tension, Tristan still hadn't woken up.
The hospital had run a series of tests, and his body showed no abnormalities.
This made Katniss very anxious, "It's been several days, and since your tests show nothing, why hasn't he woken up yet?"
"Is there really no problem, or are you hiding something from me? If there's anything that can help him wake up sooner, let me know, and we'll find a way!"
Katniss even suspected that Tristan had forbidden them from telling her the worst condition.
The doctor, both helpless and anxious, said, "Ms. Grey, all of Mr. Forbes's test results are right there. We're not lying to you. His condition is indeed unexpected."
"Katniss, calm down. I assure you, this is truly beyond our expectations. All we can do is wait," Emory had to persuade her.
Gradually regaining her composure, Katniss turned around, took a deep breath, and pulled her hair back.
Emory escorted the doctors out, and she sat in the chair, looking at the man bathed in sunlight.
The scar on his forehead was still there.
The numerous small wounds from the crash had mostly healed, and he no longer looked like the rugged man from the small village.
But lying there, cold and unfamiliar, it made Katniss's heart ache.
She stayed by his side from dawn until sunset, only leaving when Emory urged her several times.
After several sleepless days, she was a bit dazed, and the noise of the traffic suddenly caused a ringing in her ears.
Caught off guard, she collided with an oncoming truck.
In the chaos, her head hit the window, and warm liquid trickled down her forehead, turning her vision red.
In her daze, she seemed to hear Tristan's voice, "Katniss..."
The familiar voice brought a sense of satisfaction to her heart, and she smiled faintly before losing consciousness.
The pungent smell of disinfectant spread through her nostrils, stimulating Katniss's nerves.
She suddenly grabbed the bed sheet and sat up, "Tristan..."
The doctor beside her immediately supported her, "Ms. Grey, you're awake? Your wound hasn't been fully treated yet."
A sharp pain came from her forehead, and the fragmented memories of the car accident came back to her.
"Doctor, how is she?"
Just as Katniss was about to say something, she heard Saskia's voice.
She looked over to see Nicholas, Emory, and Saskia walking in with worried expressions.
"I'm fine, just a small scratch."
"A small scratch? That was a truck. If it weren't for the slow speed in the city, you could have been killed."
Emory understood that after watching over Tristan for so many days, she had exhausted all her energy.
Katniss was in a daze.
The doctor finished treating her wound and instructed, "It's just a small cut on your forehead. Once it heals, a bit of cosmetic treatment will prevent scarring. There's no concussion, but you have low blood sugar, so you need to rest more and eat regularly."
"Katniss, did you hear that?" Saskia scolded Katniss after hearing the doctor's words, "If you keep this up, how will you take care of Tristan?"
But as soon as she said it, she regretted it.
Katniss's face was pale, and her eyes dimmed, becoming even more silent at the mention of Tristan.
"I've prescribed some medication. A family member can go pay and pick it up," the doctor handed the bill to Emory, and Nicholas went with him to handle it.
Only Saskia and Katniss were left in the room.
Saskia grabbed her hands, "Katniss, I know you're feeling terrible right now. But if you don't take care of yourself, what will you do next?"
"We have to be strong. Didn't the doctor say that Tristan's body is fine? He might wake up any day now. You still have Evie, Matilda, and Sophia. So many people are counting on you."
After a moment of silence, Katniss responded with something unrelated, "I finally understand why he chose to stay in that small village and let me think he was dead rather than come back."
Her voice was hoarse, and as she spoke, her eyes filled with tears.
This waiting was more painful than when she thought he was dead. It was a form of torture.
"Maybe I shouldn't have gone looking for him. That way, I could still hold onto the hope that he would come back to me safely one day. I could still hope he was alive, but now..."
Tristan was indeed alive, but he couldn't give her even a glimmer of hope!
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