Chapter 39
Ajori
Three weeks later…
The room that once felt sterile and intimidating now had a relaxed, almost cozy atmosphere. The machines were still there, humming gently in the background, and nurses floated in and out, but that day, Kyrin was sitting up in bed with his legs crossed casually, like it was just another lazy afternoon at home.
And in a way… it kind of was.
“Well… you just gon’ stare at it, or you gon’ eat it?” I asked, leaning against the window with my arms folded.
I had fixed him a simple meal that consisted of oven-baked, lemon-pepper chicken, a side of buttery rice, and some steamed broccoli, all seasoned just enough to taste good without being too much on his system.
With a dramatic squint, Kyrin examined the food, then lifted his eyes to meet mine, a playful smirk forming on his lips. “I’m inspecting it. I’m making sure you didn’t forget how to cook while I was out here fighting for my life.”
“Boy!”
He grinned, finally deciding to take a bite. “Okay…” he nodded slowly. “You snapped.”
“I know,” I bragged, grinning.
Kyrin took another bite; that time faster and less cautious. The transformation from a fragile patient to his usual charmingly annoying self was almost surreal.
I exhaled quietly, my chest easing just a little.
Recovery hadn’t been pretty. Those first few weeks were terrifying. Kyrin was exhausted most days, could barely walk, tubes everywhere, and machines doing more work than his body could. He’d been moody, too.
Yeah… moody. Snappy sometimes… quiet other times… then randomly funny like nothing ever happened.
The doctors said it was normal, and it was just his body adjusting and his mind catching up. Still… it was a lot.
But this moment right here made it worth it.
I exhaled softly, my heart slowly unclenching at this sight.
“Now that’s good cooking!” Kyrin declared triumphantly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his expression akin to that of a gourmet critic.
“You don’t say?” I teased, relishing the playful exchange.
After about thirty minutes of indulging in food, joking, and letting the meal settle, Kyrin leaned back against the plush pillows, rubbing his chest lightly, a gesture that immediately drew my attention.
“Still feels weird.”
“Like pain, weird or just… weird-weird?” I asked, stepping closer, my concern piqued.
“Relax,” he said, waving me off. “Not pain, just… different.”
I inched even closer. “Different how?”
He thought for a second, then shrugged. “Like I can feel I got a new heart.”
I nodded slowly.
The doctors had warned us that a new heart didn’t feel like an automatic replacement and that the body would need time to adjust to this major change.
“Your body’s adjusting. Give it time,” I reassured him, trying to impart some comfort in the face of the unknown.
Kyrin looked at me, then smirked. “So basically…” he sat up a little straighter, “I’m upgraded now, huh?”
