Chapter 12: The Breaking Point

Ethan's exhaustion had finally caught up with him. He had been pushing himself for months, trying to balance his schoolwork with his responsibilities as Lyra's assistant. But on this particular day, something snapped. As he sat at his desk, staring blankly at his computer screen, he felt a wave of dizziness wash over him. He tried to stand up, but his legs wouldn't cooperate. The next thing he knew, he was crashing to the floor, his body limp and lifeless. Lyra was by his side in an instant, concern etched on her face. "Ethan! Oh my god, Ethan!" she exclaimed, shaking him gently. Ethan's eyes fluttered open, and he looked up at Lyra with a mixture of confusion and embarrassment. "I...I'm fine," he stammered, trying to sit up. But Lyra wouldn't let him. She held him down, her hands firm but gentle. "No, you're not fine," she said, her voice firm. "You're not even close to being fine." Just as Lyra was trying to get Ethan to calm down, the door to the room opened and Mr. Thompson walked in. Lyra's boss and Ethan's father looked around the room, taking in the scene before him. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of his son lying on the floor, looking pale and weak. "Ethan?" Mr. Thompson exclaimed, rushing over to his side. "What's going on here?" Lyra stood up, smoothing out her dress. "Ethan collapsed," she explained, her voice calm. "He's been overworking himself for months, and it's finally caught up with him." Mr. Thompson's expression turned from concern to anger. "I had no idea he was pushing himself this hard," he said, his voice stern. "Ethan, what were you thinking?" Ethan looked up at his father, shamefaced. "I just wanted to help, Dad," he said, his voice weak. Mr. Thompson sighed, shaking his head. "I know you did, son. But you can't help anyone if you're not taking care of yourself." As Lyra watched, Mr. Thompson knelt down beside Ethan and helped him sit up. Ethan leaned against his father, looking exhausted. Lyra felt a pang of guilt. She had been so caught up in her own work, she hadn't noticed Ethan's struggles until it was almost too late. She reached out and put a hand on Ethan's shoulder, her touch gentle. "I'm sorry, Ethan," she said, her voice soft. "I should have been there for you sooner." Ethan looked up at her, his eyes filled with gratitude. "You are there for me, Lyra," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "You always have been." Mr. Thompson stood up, his eyes on Lyra. "Thank you for taking care of my son," he said, his voice sincere. "I appreciate it." Lyra smiled, feeling a warmth in her chest. "Anytime," she said. "He's like family to me." As Lyra watched, Mr. Thompson helped Ethan to his feet, and then led him out of the room. Lyra followed them, feeling a sense of relief wash over her. Maybe, just maybe, Ethan was going to be okay.