Bonus Chapter 2 #3
Everyone else—the nurses, the doctors, the people who came and went—I barely had anything to say to. There was nothing I wanted to talk about.
But with Alessia, I could keep talking.
Because some part of me still believed that if I kept speaking, she would find her way back to me.
I reached for her hand again, curling my fingers around hers.
“Hey.”
My thumb brushed slowly over her knuckles, following the familiar shape of her hand, tracing every little curve I knew without having to look.
“It’s me.” I smiled down at her, even though she couldn’t see it. “You’ve been sleeping for a while. You’re missing everything.”
I looked at her for a moment before continuing. “Naija cried when she saw you.” I lowered my voice, leaning a little closer. “Don’t tell her I told you that. She’ll kill me.”
I waited. Nothing.
My smile thinned, but I kept it there.
“Actually, she’d probably kill me anyway.”
A small laugh escaped me, but it sounded wrong in the room. Too small. Too lonely. It disappeared almost as soon as it came.
“But she’d be really happy to see you.” I tightened my fingers around hers, holding on a little harder. “So you should wake up soon.”
The next day, I told her about Liam.
“He’s driving me insane.”
I rested my cheek against the mattress beside her hand, keeping my fingers curled around hers.
“He forced me to take a walk today. I hated it.” I swallowed, my eyes moving over her face before dropping back to our hands. “All I could think about was you waking up while I was gone.”
My throat tightened. “What if you opened your eyes and I wasn’t here? What if you woke up and asked for me, and I was outside somewhere roaming around.”
A breath escaped me, almost a laugh. “Imagine that. You finally wake up, and I’m outside watching pigeons because Liam decided I needed to touch grass.”
I waited.
For the sarcastic remark that should have followed. The cutting little comment I could practically hear in my head, delivered in that perfectly unimpressed voice of hers.
Nothing came.
My gaze dropped to the blanket, and I picked at a loose thread with my free hand. “You would’ve told him to mind his own business.” A faint smile tugged at my mouth. “Actually, no. You would’ve insulted him first.”
I looked down at our hands, at the way her fingers rested so peacefully between mine.
“He’d deserve it.”
The smile I had managed to summon slipped away at the edges. I swallowed hard, forcing down the ache climbing into my throat. “I’m going to tell him you said that when he comes back.”
I kept talking.
About the terrible coffee. About the chair digging into my back. About the rain tapping against the windows and turning the world outside gray.
About absolutely nothing.
Anything.
Everything.
It didn’t matter what I said. I just needed to keep the room from going completely silent. Because every time I spoke, I could pretend she was listening.
And if she was listening, then she was still there.
On the fifth morning, I was sitting beside her bed with my fingers wrapped around hers, my head resting against the edge of the mattress. Exhaustion had finally dragged me under. I hadn’t even realized I’d fallen asleep.
Then something pulled me awake.
My eyes snapped open, and I lurched upright, disoriented for a heartbeat. The first thing I did was look at her.
I looked at her the way I had every morning for the past five days.
Hoping.
Begging silently for her eyes to open.
For five days, they hadn’t.
This time, they were.
Her eyes were open.
And they were fixed on mine.
I forgot how to breathe.
For five endless days, I had begged those eyes to open. I had talked to her until my voice hurt, held her hand until my fingers ached, whispered every promise I could think of into the silence.
And now she was looking at me.
I couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t even trust what I was seeing. I could only stare at her, terrified that the second I blinked, those eyes would close again and take her away from me.
She’s awake.
She’s here.
The thought crashed through me, flooding every hollow place inside my chest with a relief so enormous it hurt. A broken breath escaped me, and my chair scraped violently against the floor as I shot to my feet.
I reached for her before I even realized I was moving.
I needed to touch her.
Needed to feel her skin beneath my palm. Needed something solid and undeniable to prove this was real, that those beautiful eyes had truly opened and were looking back at me.
My fingers were inches from her cheek when she jerked backward.
I froze.
Her entire body had pulled away from me, her shoulders pressed into the mattress, her eyes wide and wary as she stared at me.
I slowly lowered my hand.
The relief that had barely begun to settle inside me vanished. A cold emptiness spread through my chest.
Her eyes moved over my face.
She frowned, confusion pulling her brows together as she studied me. There was no recognition in her gaze. No relief. Nothing.
Her lips parted.
Three words left her mouth, and my entire world collapsed.
“Who are you?”