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Andreas
The fog of unconsciousness slowly lifts, and the constant beeping of machines is the only thing I can hear. My body feels heavy and sore, but I’m alive and safe. As my eyes adjust to the dimly lit hospital room, I wonder if my dad knows I’m here.
“How nice of you to join us,” a woman calls from the doorway, startling me. An older, plump nurse with a kind face and soothing voice walks in, her eyes twinkling as she smiles. “My name is Mable, and I’ll be taking care of you until tomorrow morning. How are you feeling today?” she asks as she adjusts a wire connected to my arm.
“I’m okay,” I croak, even though my throat has never felt drier.
Mable clicks her tongue sympathetically before handing me a cup of water with a bendy straw in it. “Here, take a couple small sips. We don’t want you throwing up. The anesthesia meds can make you nauseous.”
She grabs a blood pressure cuff and her stethoscope and gives me a once-over. “We just need to check your vitals, then Dr. Varghese can come in and go over how surgery went.”
“Where is Alana? Is she okay?” I murmur.
“The woman you came in with is fine. We released her about two hours ago. She’s doing as well as expected. She refuses to go home and sleep until she sees you, though,” Mable says. “Stubborn girl, she is.”
“Stubborn as hell,” I joke as Mable finishes taking notes on my vitals.
“You lay back and rest. I’m going to get the doctor. She’ll be in with you in just a bit,” Mable says before walking out and leaving me alone again.
My head hurts, so I close my eyes and try to rest. As soon as I do, Alana’s face pops up in my mind, and I know that I have to see her.
With a feeble attempt, I try to push myself up from the bed, but a searing pain shoots up my hand into my arm, causing me to gasp. I grit my teeth and try again, but the pain is just too much.
“Hey, easy there,” a familiar voice calls out, a hand gently pushing me back down to the bed.
I look up, and Alana is there. Her tousled purple hair falls in disarray around her face, and her eyes are red-rimmed and puffy from crying and lack of sleep. She reaches out and takes my good hand.
“I had to see you and make sure you were okay before I left,” she says.
I give her a weak smile and squeeze her hand. “I’m alright. You need to rest. I’m going to give you the code to get into my house. I want you to have your parents take you there. You can all stay the night so nobody has to drive.”
She nods and sniffles, wiping a few tears from her cheeks. “Okay. You’ll be alright here by yourself?”
“Of course. If my dad isn’t here yet, he will be soon. You need to sleep, Alana. You’ve been through a lot.”
She leans down and gently presses a kiss to my lips.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she whispers. “You get some sleep too, okay?”
“Deal.”
And with that, I watch her walk out of the room.
58
Chapter Fifty Eight
Alana
I fall onto the plush mattress in Andreas’ room, utterly exhausted. Over the last week, the police had interviewed us a dozen times. Their questions had been standard, and they’d pieced together that Darien had been stalking me. He had killed his mother after years of physical, emotional, and psychological abuse by her. After he snapped, there was nothing in his way of having me, and he’d begun perfecting his plans. They ruled his death as self-defense, and Andreas won’t face any legal action for ending his life.
“Are you okay?” Andreas asks as he stares at me from the doorway of his bathroom. His hair drips from his shower, and his bruised and battered face makes me sad.
I nod and sit up, wincing as I sniff through my bandaged nose. “I’m okay? I don’t know. He’s dead. We’re safe. Why do I still feel so on edge?”
Andreas walks over to the bed and sits down beside me, his hand resting on my knee. “It’s normal to feel that way after a traumatic experience,” he says softly. “But I promise you, we’re going to be okay.”
