I sat, staring at the cold cup of coffee in front of me. My half-eaten sandwich was pushed aside. It tasted like dust, and I had no appetite. Despite what Alan had advised, I couldn’t eat. I would try later. Alan’s words kept running through my head. Christian’s recovery—the difficulties we faced. The way our life together would change. Everything I knew, everything that was us, wouldn’t exist anymore. At least not right away—in fact, perhaps never.It depended on what happened when Christian woke up. If his mind was affected. If he was still Christian—or an altered version of the man I loved. I rubbed a weary hand over my face, one thing certain in my mind. Whatever happened, whatever the result was, I still loved him. I would always love him, and somehow, we would find our way through all of this together.I had texted Grandpa, Mia and Sarah to let them know Christian was being moved and that I would send the information as soon as I had it. They responded with encouraging wor

I carried her inside, setting her carefully on my hip while she showed Sarah her lamb, and I inhaled the scent of her hair. The feel of my baby snuggled into my chest made tears sting my eyes, and I had to bow my head to hide them from her. Valerie was still a baby, and she was still too perceptive not to notice. “Why you cry, Mommy?” “I missed you,” I sniffed. She looked confused. “I was wight hewe.” I forced a smile, brushing away the wetness under my eyes. “I know. How silly of Mommy.” Sarah cupped my cheek affectionately. “I have her dinner ready. I knew you’d want to feed her. Go upstairs with her, and I’ll bring it. You have a little time with her.”“Thank you,” I murmured, not trusting myself to say much else right now. My emotions were too raw. Sarah, being Sarah, understood. “Of course, dear girl.” Upstairs, I settled in the nursery they had set up for Valerie. Valerie had spent weekends with her grandmother in the past, so it made sense

I was stunned by Mia’s words. “I think if Valerie saw him, it would help, not hurt. And I think you need to sort your priorities.” The anger, the bitterness I had been swallowing down exploded, and I lost it. “My priorities? Stop telling me what to do!” I screamed, all rational thought gone. “I am sick of being told what to do and where to go! Leave me alone!” “No.” I crossed the room and pushed at her chest. “I don’t want to go see Valerie. I don't want to sleep.” I pushed again. “I don’t want to bring Valerie here. I’m tired of eating when I don’t want to. I’m tired of taking your goddamn orders!” She remained in place, her feet firmly planted on the linoleum. “Too bad.” “Fuck you, Mia Walker! I’m not leaving this hospital again until my husband wakes up!” “He’s not just your husband, Hazel! Have you even thought about that? Do you realize it? You’re not the only one who’s hurt. You’re not the only one who’s scared and in pain! He’s my brothe

The next three days were filled with tension and anticipation. There were small signs that Christian was waking up. The flutter of his eyelids—as quick as a hummingbird’s wings—so fast you would miss it if you weren’t looking. The tremor in a finger. The twitch of his arm. A quiet sound deep in his throat—something between a sigh and a groan.Each action made me stiffen with anxiety and yearn with hope. It made me ache with the need for the next sign. I didn’t leave his side, even sleeping with my fingers interlocked with his. I rushed to the bathroom when needed, swallowed the food that appeared, and raced through the fastest showers I ever had in my life, returning with wet hair and the same determination in my heart. I read to him. Talked endlessly. Played recordings of Valerie singing and nattering away that Sarah sent me. I stretched and bent his limbs the way Colin had shown me—easy movements to help his muscles stay active. I tried desperately not to get upset at the dead weigh

I was already rushing toward the door when Carol opened it, looking for me. I heard the sound Christian made, even through the walls, and I knew he needed me.Screw protocol.I hurried to his bedside. He was almost panting in his panic, a sheen of sweat on his forehead. His hands were wrapped tight around the bed rails, and the stark fear in his eyes made my heart ache. I brushed my hand over his forehead, leaning in as close as I could. “Shh, Christian, I’m here, my love. I’m here.” My touch seemed to calm him. I ran my hand down his arm, loosening his grip from the metal. I intertwined our fingers, lifting his hand to my mouth. “Right here,” I repeated, hating seeing him so unsettled, so vulnerable. So unlike the Christian I knew.Alan stood on the other side of his bed. “Listen to your wife, Mr. Walker. Breathe with her and try to relax. I’ll explain more when you’re ready.”I pressed his hand to my chest and breathed long and slow. He struggled to calm down, finally relaxing, the