Whispers Of The Heart

Chapter 29 - Small Steps

CLAY'S POV:
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2 days later
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Yesterday, Wilbur arrived at the hospital, overwhelmed by grief and consumed by guilt. Through his tears, he told me that everything is his fault, regretting not telling Tommy to care for his plants. However, I'm the one responsible for everything that's happened with George. And knowing that is intensifying the pain in my heart.

Nick and Karl have rented a hotel room just across the street from the hospital, where they have been staying. Meanwhile, I have chosen to stay with George, not leaving his side for the past two days.

George's mom went home with Wilbur by her side, and he has been helping her by driving her to the hospital every day. His dedication and care for Anne during this difficult period are evident as he ensures she is taken care of while also maintaining a presence at the hospital to support George's recovery.

Sitting beside George, I hold his hand tightly, resting my head next to his, finding peace in his presence. Lost in the moment, my eyes closed, I'm startled by the sound of the door opening. I lift my head, opening my eyes to find Nick entering the room, his expression filled with concern

"Clay," Nick's voice reaches me, filled with genuine concern as he approaches. He stands beside me. "You need to get some sleep," he insists, recognizing the toll that staying by George's side without rest has taken on me.

I offer a slight nod, accompanied by a small smile "I have been getting sleep, Nick." I reassure him. Despite my response, Nick lets out a sigh.

Nick's voice carries a hint of annoyance as he comments, "Sitting on a chair and resting your head next to George isn't sleep." While I appreciate his concern for my well-being, my main focus remains on George. "Also, when was the last time you ate?" he asks.

"An hour ago, Anne gave me a bag of chips," I remind Nick, hoping to ease his concerns. Yet, his worry increases as he sighs.

He runs his hands through his hair, a clear display of his anxiety. "A proper meal, Clay. When was the last time you had a proper, warm meal?"

As I think back on my recent meals, I struggle to remember the last time I had a warm and powerful meal. The only memory that comes to mind is the spaghetti Nick cooked at home. Since then, I realize that I have forgotten to eat a proper, warm meal amidst the intensity of caring for George.

"Listen," Nick says, motioning for me to rise from my seat, and I do. He gently places his hands on my shoulders, his gaze filled with concern. "I'll stay here with George, holding his hand. Please, go and have something to eat,"

I bite my lip, glancing at George and then back at Nick. Eventually, I nod slightly, accepting his concern. "Okay, but I'll only be gone for fifteen minutes," I assure him, expressing my commitment. Nick responds with a nod

"I asked Karl to get your bike ready, it's parked right in front of the hospital," Nick informs me, a glimmer of warmth in his eyes. Grateful for his thoughtfulness, a smile of appreciation spreads across my face, acknowledging his efforts to make things easier and faster for me.

As I step out of the hospital, a gentle gust of cold air brushes against my skin, reminding me of the world beyond those sterile walls. It dawns on me that I haven't set foot outside in three long days, and the realization weighs heavily on my spirit. Looking around at the world, I find myself consumed by thoughts of when George will awaken. The worry tightens its grip on my heart, and an overwhelming urge to rush back to his side floods my being. With a heavy heart, I take a deep breath and gather the strength to take on this difficult road ahead of me. I have to take care of myself so I can be strong enough to take care of George when he wakes up.

Because he will.

I hop on my bike, with Karl riding alongside me on Nick's bike. We make our way to a nearby Chinese restaurant and place our food orders. Despite my initial intention to take the food back to the hospital, Karl insists that we eat at the restaurant. He eventually convinces me and we enjoy our meal together. When we finish eating, Karl orders more food to go, for Nick and Anne.

On our way back to the hospital, we make a quick stop at a store. I purchase a bouquet of flowers, carefully selecting each bloom with George in mind. The vibrant colors and delicate petals serve as a symbol of hope and love, a small offering to brighten his hospital room and remind him of the people that love him.

When we enter the hospital, my steps lead me directly to George's room, my eyes fixed on him. In that moment, an overwhelming wave of exhaustion crashes over me, hitting me with full force. The realization sinks in that I haven't experienced a proper night's sleep in over a week, the weight of everything that has transpired taking its toll on my body and mind. Every time I catch a glimpse of my reflection, I'm confronted by dark circles haunting my under-eyes and a paleness casting a shadow over my complexion. It becomes clear that I have to sleep.

Gazing at George, I grip his hand tightly, my lips pressed together in a mixture of determination and sadness. "I need to go get some sleep, Georgie," I whisper softly, my voice filled with a mix of longing and heartache. I squeeze his hand gently, trying to express my undying love and presence. The thought of him waking up without me by his side weighs heavily on my heart. With a heavy heart, I release his hand, praying that he wakes up soon.

I need sleep. It's for him, so I can take care of my Georgie.

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