So matter-of-fact.
Like there was never any other option.
Like leaving my side never even occurred to her.
"Love you," I mumble, already fading.
"I love you too." Her lips brush my forehead. "Now rest."
I don't have the strength to fight it.
Just let the darkness pull me under again.
But this time it's different.
This time, I know I'll wake up.
And she'll be there.
The second time I wake up, I feel more human.
Still weak.
Still sore.
But the fog has lifted.
I can think clearly.
Can piece together my surroundings without feeling like I'm swimming through mud.
The medical room looks the same—stark white walls, fluorescent lights, equipment beeping softly.
My left side aches with a deep, throbbing pain that pulses with every heartbeat.
The knife wound.
I remember it now.
The blade sliding in.
The white-hot agony.
The feeling of my strength draining out of me along with my blood.
I almost died.
The realization hits differently now that I'm fully conscious.
I almost died in that parking lot.
Almost never saw Ingrid again.
Almost broke my promise.
"You're awake."
I turn my head.
