The Word Love

XXIV

"Aimee," Someone called my name out in a small voice.

I couldn't see anything but blackness. Everything was all black.

Am I dead?

"Please don't leave," he whispered, "I don't know what I would do without you."

Douglas?

"Oh god," he cried, "This is all my fault. If I was watching Ella like I was supposed to, she wouldn't have followed that man. You and Ella would have never been danger if I would have just- I'm so, so sorry, Aimee. Oh god."

My heart broke at the sound of him breaking down. I wish I could move and talk so that I can comfort him and so that I could tell him that this wasn't his fault.

"This isn't your fault," Someone else said.

Jenny.

"If there's one thing I know about Aimee, it's that she can be really stubborn and impulsive," she continued, "But that's who she is. She saw your sister in danger, and she jumped in to save her."

"She risked her own life," Douglas mumbled, "She risked her own life to save my sister."

"You know, Aimee wouldn't want you to blame yourself for what happened," Jenny told him and I mentally nodded.

You tell him, Jenny.

"I wish she would wake up," he mumbled.

I wish I could wake up too.

Every single muscle in my body felt weighed down, and I didn't know how to lift that weight off. I was sure now that I wasn't dead. I was alive but couldn't move. I better not be in a coma. How ironic would it be if I was though?

"The doctor said she'll wake up once the anesthesia wears off," A new voice informed, "You'll see your girlfriend pretty soon."

Eric?

"She's not my girlfriend," Douglas muttered quietly.

Eric scoffed, "Whatever you say, loverboy."

"Where's Rose?" Jenny asked.

Yeah, where is Rose?

"Last I saw her, she told me she was getting some fresh air," Douglas answered.

"When was that?" Eric asked.

"Thirty minutes ago."

Someone walked out of the room, and I suspected that it was Eric.

"You should go to the cafeteria and eat something. If not, then at least drink something," Jenny suggested, "She's still going to be here when you get back."

Douglas let out a long sigh but agreed nonetheless. Good, I don't want him to starve himself or become dehydrated because of me.

It was about 10 minutes long that they were gone when I started to have feeling in my fingertips. The feeling spread and soon I could feel my whole body, including the stabbing wound. My eyes slowly opened while adjusting to the bright fluorescent light. I looked around and saw that no one was here.

Slowly and carefully, I sat up. I threw the blanket off me and stepped on the ground. The floor was cold as I dragged myself to the restroom in the room. I closed the door behind me and pulled up the hospital gown to reveal my stomach. In the middle of my stomach was the stitched up stab wound and the surgery cut that was also stitched up. I released the hem of the gown, letting it cover my stomach again.

"Aimee?" Douglas called my name, "Aimee, where are you?"

"I'm in here," I managed to say through hoarse voice.

I opened the door and stepped out. Douglas's eyes widened when he saw me standing there.

"Hey," I greeted him softly with a small smile.

He took a step forward and then another, "Thank god you're awake."

He stopped in front of me and wrapped his arms around me, gently hugging me. I was hugging him back. My face was pressed against his chest and I was taking in his warmness.

He pulled away to look at me, "This is you, right? Not a figment of my imagination?"

A small laugh left my lips, but it was immediately replaced with a hiss of pain. The smile was wiped off his face and he helped me to the bed, a guilty expression on his face.

I grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly in mine, "This is not your fault. If I were to go back in time, I would do it all over again, no hesitation."

"But if I was there, I could have protected you. I could have prevented this from happening," he remained stubborn. Looks like I'm not the only stubborn one.

"You're not always going to be there to protect me, Douglas," I gave him a stern look, "I'm a big girl. I can protect myself."

He chuckled, "I don't know what I'd do w you."

"You'll probably fail at life," I shrugged.

He laughed, "Probably."