Paris Adler and Sydney Blake have been college classmates for a while. Paris is captivated by Sydney's beauty and talent in fashion, while Sydney is drawn to Paris's gentle nature, photography and poetic skills. Their story is one of budding romance...
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Afternoon, the next day.
As I slowly opened my eyes, the sterile light of the hospital room flooded my vision. My head throbbed, and everything felt hazy for a moment, but then a familiar, soft voice brought me back to reality.
"Hi, darling." It was my mom. She was sitting beside me, her eyes filled with warmth and relief.
I tried to sit up, but my muscles ached. "Mom?" My voice cracked, my throat dry. "What... what happened?"
She leaned forward, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. "You're at the hospital, sweetheart. Don't worry, you're going to be all right." Her tone was calm.
I swallowed hard, the memories flooding back—the argument with Paris, the crash. "Am I... am I going to be okay?"
"Yes, darling," she reassured, her hand gently squeezing mine. "The doctors said you've suffered concussion, but nothing too serious. The good news is you won't need to undergo surgery. They just need to monitor you for a day or two."
A wave of relief washed over me, but it was quickly followed by panic. "Well I hope so because I can't stay longer than that, Mom. I have my internship in LA in a week! I need to prepare, I can't go like this..."
My mom gave me a reassuring smile. "You'll be out of here soon enough, that's what the doctor said. You just need to rest and heal. LA can wait a little bit for you."
Taking a deep breath, I shifted slightly, feeling the discomfort in my body but also the weight of everything that had happened. "Where's Paris... did he come?" I asked, my eyes scanning the room, as if hoping he would appear. A part of me wasn't sure I wanted to hear the answer, considering everything that had happened between us.
"He's not here right now, sweetheart," she said, her voice softening. "But he was here last night when they brought you in after the accident."
Her words hung in the air, and I felt my heart clench. "He was?" I whispered.
"When I got the call and rushed over, I saw him at the chapel," my mom continued. "He was with his mom and his sister. He looked... broken. He told me he managed to rush to the scene right after the accident. You were unconscious, and he—" her mother paused, looking down before meeting Sydney's eyes again. "He held you tight, hugged you from behind, crying. He was so emotional, Sydney. He didn't want to leave your side. He's been there for you, even after... everything, whatever you've gone through."
I stared at my mom, my heart sinking as I remembered our argument. The fight, the jealousy, the things we have said. The way we had left things so raw and unresolved. I closed my eyes for a moment, a tear escaping down my cheek.
"He's probably blaming himself," I whispered, my voice cracking slightly. "We fought right before... I was so angry with him, and now this..." I swallowed hard, my voice trembling. "I didn't think he'd still care after everything."
