9
I woke up in the hospital once again, staring blankly at the sterile white ceiling. As I moved to sit up, I noticed a familiar figure dozing in the chair beside my bed. Ethan.
Seeing me stir, he jerked awake, eyes ringed with dark circles.
“You’re up? How do you feel? Want some water or food?”
Glancing down, I saw my wrist wrapped in layers of thick bandages. With a sigh, I brushed his hand away, pushing myself up without his help. He looked taken aback, retracting his hand awkwardly. I refused to look at him.
11:12 AM &
<
If I hadn’t been so weak from blood loss, I would have slapped him for meddling. Of all the times to start caring, why now?
“Where’s Adrian?” I asked.
That question hit a nerve. Ethan gripped my shoulders, pressing me back into the bed with a flash of anger in his eyes.
“Why are you still thinking about him?” he demanded. “Vanessa, you were out cold for two days. Did he visit you once?”
“Stop torturing yourself over him. Just divorce him, please.”
For a brief second, sorrow flickered in his gaze. He softened, almost pleading.
“Please, just look at me, Vanessa. Just once.”
