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The hours stretched on like a never-ending fog as Valerie sat by John's bedside in the quiet hospital room. The soft hum of machines and the occasional shuffle of nurses outside were the only sounds that broke the stillness. She had barely moved since Simon and Yasmin had left last night. She hadn't wanted to leave, not when John was still so fragile, his life precariously balanced on the edge of uncertainty.
She stared at his face, her mind racing. She couldn't stop thinking about everything—the breakup with Renée, the drugs, the overdose, and now John, awake but still distant. The last thing she'd expected was to find him like this, broken in ways she hadn't known, but maybe, deep down, she had known. Maybe the signs had always been there, and she'd ignored them, lost in her own world with David, the band, and the whirlwind of their music career. Even when they were still together, she never saw it. She ignored it.
Her thoughts were interrupted when she noticed John's eyelids flutter. His dark eyes slowly opened, blinking as if trying to adjust to the light. Valerie's heart skipped a beat, and she leaned forward, her hand instinctively reaching for his.
"John?" she whispered, her voice shaky but gentle.
He turned his head slightly, his eyes unfocused at first, but then they locked on hers. His lips parted as if he wanted to speak, but nothing came out. He looked exhausted, the strain of the past hours evident in the dark circles under his eyes and the pale pallor of his skin. For a moment, there was nothing but silence, but it was a heavy silence—a silence that said everything about the weight of the moment.
Valerie swallowed hard, trying to steady her voice. "John, you're okay. You’re gonna be okay."
He blinked again, his eyes shifting around the room before landing back on her face. "What happened?" His voice was raspy, weak, barely a whisper.
"You overdosed," Valerie said, the words feeling cold in her mouth. It was hard to say it out loud, even harder to face the reality of it. But it was the truth. "You’ve been in and out for a while. They’re keeping you here overnight for observation."
John let out a slow, labored breath, his hand twitching slightly in hers. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—regret, fear, maybe shame—but he didn't speak for a long moment. He just stared at her, his gaze searching, as if he was trying to understand why she was there, why she was still sitting beside him after everything.
