Pain blooms everywhere at once. Not sharp, dull and consuming. It presses into every part of me.
“The doctors are very optimistic about your prognosis.”
My body feels like it weighs a thousand kilos. I can’t move. Can’t respond.
“I hope today is the day.”
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The sound grows louder, faster.
I feel like I’m floating upward, breaking through the surface inch by inch. Sounds sharpen. Light bleeds through the darkness. And then,
A scent.
Something sweet. Familiar.
Perfume.
“He has been here every day,” the voice says, closer now.
That voice.
Soft. Clear. Angelic.
The beeping spikes.
“What’s happening?” familiar voice says urgently.
Warmth touches my shoulders, hands grounding me, anchoring me. The contact sends something through my body, steadying my breath.
“Khai?” The voice wavers. “Can you hear me?”
“I’m paging Dr. Gorman. I think he’s waking up.” I hear footsteps leave the room in a rush.
I force my eyes to move. Once. Twice. It feels impossible, but I push anyway.
I need to see her. She feels like…
“Heaven,” I murmur as my eyes finally open.
She’s right there.
Those eyes. Perfect lips shaped into the softest smile I’ve ever seen. My smile, smile meant for only me. Golden hair pulled into a messy bun, loose strands framing her face. Her hands are still on my shoulders. Alive. Breathing.
The world stills.
She smiles, warmth lighting her features. “Not quite heaven,” she says gently. “Welcome back, Khai. You’re at St John’s Hospital.”
The door opens, breaking the moment, and her hands fall away as a doctor steps inside.
“Welcome back, Mr Blackwood,” he says, flipping through the chart at the end of my bed. “I’m Dr. Gorman.”
He turns to her without looking up. “Miss Winters, please order a CT, MRI, EEG, and full blood work for Mr Blackwood.”
“Right away, Dr. Gorman,” she replies, as she starts to leave the room.
She pauses in the doorway, glancing back at me over her shoulder before disappearing down the hall.
