The Fourth Boy

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Play No More

I still love you.

I had imagined slipping into a coma would be so not...incidental.

I had never thought I would not feel anything.

I imagined seeing a light or having a series of dreams or at least I imagined something interesting happening.

But my brain was out like a light and I felt nothing.

There were times I would hear some people whispering, who I later deduced as doctors, but other than that; nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

When I woke up, everything was a blur.

I had no memories of anything that happened to me before or any idea why I was there. It took me a while to recollect everything and join the dots.

My vision was also hazy, credits to my watery eyes. I wanted to wipe my eyes, but apparently, my eyes had something in them, and they hadn't been moved for a while, so my muscles were a little restraining.

I noticed several tubes connected to my arms, and something was in my nose helping me breathe.

Some doctors came and did their thing, asked me a few questions, removed that itchy thing from my nose, and then, allowed my parents to visit me.

I'll skip the emotional drama.

Well, skip the drama till my dearest former boyfriend popped up in the room when the doctors finally let him.

"Hi," he whispered. I waved my hand slowly, unable to muster words.

I was so touched that he was there. Yes, it was a decent thing to do that everyone should do. It was normal. Yet, I felt a tremendous amount of joy. I smiled broadly at him, a smile that he did not reciprocate.

"You're okay..." he spoke to himself. His eyes were filled with emotions and I opened my arms for a well-needed hug. He didn't hesitate. Within seconds, he had pulled me into an embrace and he didn't let go.

Nor did I.

He pulled back his head and kissed my forehead twice, then my temple once, and pulled me back in a hug.

I could feel tears on my neck, his tears. I could hear a sniff, his sniff. I could feel the need for a hug.

My ribs hurt, but I didn't say anything. Physical pain didn't affect me much.

I pushed him back gently and watched him wipe away his tears.

I had never actually seen him cry before; just felt him or heard him.

The sight was heart wrenching.

He looked so young; like a kid. His face seemed ashen and whiter and the dark shadows under his eyes had increased so much in the past few days.

I reached out to wipe a stray tear from his eyes as he said, "I am sorry. I am so, so, sorry, for saying all of that. I am-"

"It's okay-"

He gently took ahold of my hand that was on his cheek and said, "Let me, please. I am sorry for hurting you. I am sorry for all I put you. I am sorry for not treating you right. I am sorry for never realizing how hurt you were or sad you were. I am sorry for not being there for you."

"It's okay. I don't hold any of that against you." And then, I felt like that was enough games. The manipulative side of me washed away, and I spoke, "I love you,"

And he didn't hesitate in saying back, "I love you too!"

He pulled me close to him again and said, "If I could, I would do it right this time," I believed him. I believed him wholeheartedly. I put a hand on his chest. It wasn't to push him away. It was there so he could feel what I was feeling in my chest. So he would feel that heaviness I couldn't quite describe. So he could and would feel it all.