Once upon a time, a girl made a vow never to give her heart to someone undeserving . . . for the sake of her happiness and heartbreak.
Lydia Hayes has had enough grief in her life. After the death of her mother, she was torn. As for her father, he...
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Miguel holds onto Lydia's hand as if it was her lifeline that tethered her to reality. He strokes her cold fingers as she lay motionless on the gurney, chaos flowing all around them. Paramedics keep Lydia stable as she rests uneasy. They've removed the large knife from her chest and continue to apply pressure to the wound, holding high hopes to stop the constant flow of blood. Yet, the rags are a dark crimson that makes Miguel queasy.
Miguel's mind falters to when the ambulance arrived. Ray was long gone with his families fortune, on the road to 'freedom,' so he says. The paramedics almost made Miguel drive his car to the hospital because he wasn't a relative, but he wasn't about to let them drive away with his helpless bella. So, he hopped in the ambulance, ignoring their protests, and held onto his bella as if all his strength flowed from within him, directly into Lydia.
The monitor adjacent to Lydia began to beep in alarm. "We're losing her!" The male paramedic yells as he grabs a pair of scissors and begins to cut through Lydia's knit sweater. The fabric peels away to reveal a nude bra that conceals herself from everyone. "Charging," he says. "Clear!" The paddles are placed on her chest and she jerks up as the shock coasts through her body. But still, nothing. "Again!" The process occurs once more, Miguel's chest heaving as he has to let go of Lydia's hand each time they attempt to revive her.
"Clear!" The paramedic announces as Lydia jolts. The paddles are removed, the entire vehicle waiting on edge and hopefulness. The monitor drags out a long, eerie beep. Tears of sorrow escape from Miguel's eyes as he's unable to grasp the fact that Lydia is quite possibly gone. The paramedics sigh in distress and discontinue their work. No matter how much Miguel wants to protest and continue their work, it's as if he's paralyzed.
As Miguel conjures up a plan to tell Lydia's family and friends of her passing, an angel makes himself known as Lydia's monitor projects sudden steady beeps. Miguel cries in happiness, leaning his head against his nenas arm and thanking God. His can feel her small fingers twitch inside his palm. The paramedics resume their work of keeping her stable.
When they arrive to the hospital, Miguel stays beside Lydia as they quickly wheel her down the hallway. The coldness of Lydia's skin is dissolved into slight warmth. Lydia, even out cold, can feel the warmth of Miguel's hand around her skin. It doesn't just stay in her hand, no—it blossoms straight through her entire body. It's a welcoming feeling that she's grown to love and cherish from the months she's known him. The little things he does makes her crazy, in a good way.
The nurses take over the paramedics job, hooking her up different machines and undressing her. They've checked her wound as they peel of her clothing. "Young man," an older nurse says. "Could you tell me some information of the patient?" Miguel answers the questions to the best of his ability, seeing as though he doesn't have her medical card. "Please wait in the lobby, we need to prep her an OR."
