Enemy Beloved

55 | waking up

★

V A U G H N

My senses are somehow heightened with the long moments of unconsciousness. When the feeling of being alive starts to come back, the first thing I hear is the sound of soft breathing near my head and the feel of fingers curling around my palm — fingers that are warm and smooth. Everything else is quiet.

I try to force my eyes open but it takes a lot of effort. For a second, I start to think that I will never be able to open them again but that feeling washes off when I am greeted with the sight of a plain ceiling above my head. There is an oxygen mask above my nose and it troubles me when I attempt to look around through it. I check for my arms and find both of them safe at my sides. Then I see her.

She is sleeping quietly, her head lying above my hand. Her hair covers her face, hiding it from view. The sight of her gives me the remaining courage I need.

"Cla..." I open my mouth to speak but my tongue is dry and my chest hurts a little when I move. I look down and find my body dressed in a hospital robe, machines attached to my chest. "Claire..."

She jerks her head up as if knocked back into life and when her sight falls on me, she lets out a gasp, her hands moving to her mouth.

"Vaughn!" Claire exclaims. "Oh my God!"

Relief washes over her worried face and I see tears in her eyes, escaping and moving down her cheeks. She rubs them and quickly presses the intercom by my bedside. The red light beeps for a while before disappearing.

"Claire...am I..."

"Shh...just keep quiet..." She runs her fingers through my hair while her other hand presses over my arm.

The door to the room opens and a bespectacled doctor, followed by a nurse, walks in. I keep my eyes on Claire as they check over the readings in the machines attached to me and then the nurse tugs the oxygen mask down my face. I shut my eyes at the action and start to breathe hard. The nurse observes and then pushes it back in place again.

"Will have to keep that one for a while," the doctor says while pressing the stethoscope over my chest. The nurse jots down the doctor's instructions on a tablet. "You feeling okay, Mr. Jackson?"

I move my head, nodding slowly and the doctor smiles. "It's all good then. Just stay in for a week or two and you'll be free to go home."

He straightens, adjusting his stethoscope around his neck, and takes the tablet from the nurse, pressing something over it. When done, he looks at Claire and gives a slight nod.

"Thank you," Claire murmurs to him.

Unable to move my hand, I curl my fingers around Claire's, squeezing hard and making her look down at me. She leans in, her cheeks glossy and her lips carrying a tiny smile.

"Am I...okay?" I ask her, my voice muffled due to the oxygen mask.

"Yes, love...you're okay," Claire almost chuckles with happiness as she presses her lips to my forehead, gently kissing me. "Everything's okay."

Something sharp pierces my arm. Before my eyes close again, I manage a smile in response to her, sighing heavily as the world darkens again.

I am okay.

***

It takes me a week to get my body to start moving properly and breathing without the mask. The nurses shove medicine after medicine down my throat to provide for the food I am unable to swallow. The machines attached to my body lessen in number day by day until I am shifted to another private room which feels more comfortable than the other one I was in. It even has a television in it.