In the sterile, white halls of the hospital, a woman named Isabella roamed. She was a vision of loveliness, her long hair cascading down her back in dark waves, her small breasts perky and firm beneath her thin hospital gown. Her husband, John, had been in a terrible accident, and she waited anxiously for any news of his condition.
A young doctor, Alex, approached Isabella, his eyes taking in her beauty despite the seriousness of the situation. “Miss,” he began, “I’m Dr. Alex. I’ll be taking care of your husband. He’s asking for you.”
Isabella followed Alex to John’s room, her heart pounding in her chest. She found John lying in the hospital bed, his body battered and bruised. He smiled weakly as she entered, reaching out a hand to her.
“Hey, Bella,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I’m sorry for all this.”
Isabella took his hand, tears welling up in her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, her voice shaking. “I’m just glad you’re alive.”
Alex cleared his throat, drawing the couple’s attention. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” he said, “but I need to examine John. If you wouldn’t mind stepping outside for a moment, Miss.”
Isabella nodded, stepping out into the hallway. She paced back and forth, her nerves on edge. After what felt like an eternity, Alex reappeared.
“Miss, I have some news,” he said, his face grave. “John’s injuries are severe, and he’s going to need surgery. But I think he’ll make it through.”
