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Roman even jokes about my hair, saying, "If you're going for the wild man look, you've nailed it." A chuckle follows. "Might scare off the nurses, though."
Then, one evening, as the golden rays of the setting sun filter through the blinds, casting a warm glow on Ana’s pale face, her brother walks in with purpose. He stands at the threshold, his gaze alternating between his sister and me.
"You love her," he states. It's not a question.
"With everything I have," I reply, my voice breaking.
He smiles, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "Then you know she wouldn't want you to wither away like this."
I look away, unable to bear the weight of his words. The truth of them.
"She’s fighting, Samuil," Viktor continues. "Every moment, she’s fighting to come back to us, to you. And while she fights, you need to live. For her. For both of you."
His words sink in, hitting hard. I know he’s right, I know I need to summon the strength to live for her, to manifest her coming back to us. Then it happens.
I’m in Ana’s room, watching the rise and fall of her chest, silently willing her to wake up, to feel my undying love.Suddenly, her eyes flutter open, searching the room, finally settling on me. I hold my breath, unable to speak.
A tidal wave of relief crashes over me. For weeks, hope was a dwindling flame, but in one single moment, it roars back to life in a fiery blaze. Her face, once lost in an expressionless realm I couldn't reach, regains a spark of vitality. Every fear, every nightmarish thought that has plagued my restless nights, evaporates.
My heart, which had been clenched in dread, swells with joy, thudding loudly in my chest.
She's back.
The weight of a thousand chains lifts off my soul as her gaze meets mine. In this moment, the world resets, and everything feels possible again.
She blinks, and I can see the haze of drugs is clouding her focus. But there's a twinkle there, a spark. "Samuil," she whispers, her voice raspy but filled with warmth.
I lean closer, gripping her hand. "Hey, tough girl."
A slow smile stretches across her lips. "I had the most amazing dream." She blinks, clearing her throat. "You won't believe it."
I chuckle, playing along. "Try me."
She takes a deep breath, her eyes distant. "I was in the center of a massive arena, flooded with blinding lights and deafening cheers. And I was wearing MMA gloves, landing every punch I threw, every dodge was perfect."
I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "You, an MMA fighter?"
She nods, a hint of pride in her eyes. "Not just any fighter. The ultimate fighting champion. Every match was a victory. Every opponent met the mat."
I can't help but laugh. "I would say that might be a tall order for someone your size. But then again, I’ve seen you fight.”
She smirks, and I can see her fire returning. "I was unbeatable. The crowd went wild with every takedown. But what made it truly special..." She hesitates, her gaze softening, "... was you."
"Me?" I ask, genuinely surprised.
Ana nods. "You were right there in the front row. Not as my coach, not as my manager, but as my biggest fan. Every punch I threw, every victory, every moment there you were, cheering me on, roaring louder than anyone else."
My throat tightens at the imagery. "Sounds like a good dream," I whisper.
She nods, wincing slightly. "It was. But waking up to you here, that's even better."
Silence stretches between us, comfortable and warm. I caress her cheek, the rough pad of my thumb tracing her soft skin. "Ana," I murmur, my voice thick with emotion. "I love you. More than I ever thought possible."
She smiles, her eyes glistening with tears. "I love you too, Samuil. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before."
Chapter 28
Anastasia
